Thanksgiving

So, today's Thanksgiving. Well, not really. Because French people don't believe in Thanksgiving or anything related to it. They don't believe in turkey. They don't have an exact translation for "cranberries." And, according to my history professor, they don't even consider North America its own continent.

But I refuse to be deterred. Thanksgiving must be celebrated. The eating part will be taken care of tonight, at a Thanksgiving dinner organized by my program. And the thanking part, I'm going to take of here. Warning: If you have a low tolerance for cheesiness, stop reading. Right now. Seriously, it's going to be bad. Like a Nicholas Sparks novel on crack. Consider yourself warned.

I'm subjecting you to this corniness because this is the year when I have the most to be thankful for. I'm living in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I eat my lunch in the Jardin du Luxembourg. I spend hours sitting at cafes with friends. I get into the Louvre for free. My homework consists of watching plays at the Comedie Francaise. I spend my vacations in some of Europe's greatest cities. Very, very few people get to spend a year living out such a huge opportunity with so little responsibility.

Of course, that's due to parents who sent me to Europe for the third time in my life, even though they haven't been to Paris in over 20 years. I am fully aware that "a year in Paris" is not really on the list of required parental contributions. There are a lot of parents, even good ones, who would not do as much for their kids as my parents have done for me. My mom and dad not only conquered their fear of Taken-related incidents to let me come here, they are also apparently willing to sacrifice their retirement savings so that I can eat a pastry every day. And the fact that they gave me this opportunity and have never once made me feel guilty about taking it is really pretty amazing. It looks like it'll be the good nursing home for you guys...

I'm thankful for my sister, who takes time out of her busy college schedule to Skype me for four minutes every six weeks. And I'm thankful for the rest of my family who follow my blog or send me cards on all those holidays that I'm missing in France.

I'm thankful for my friends. Being separated from them by an ocean has made me realize just how lucky I am to have them. I've had the privilege to meet some really great people who put up with all of my neuroses for some reason. On numerous occasion this year, I've found myself laughing out loud to myself while remembering random nights at Northwestern or my favorite Father Bob quotes, to the obvious bewilderment of the French people around me. So thank you guys, for making assimilation that much harder.

Finally, I'd like to thank my manager, my stylist and God...Just kidding. I swear the Oscar speech is just about over.

Basically, I'm just thankful for this entire experience. It's something that I've anticipated for years, but even I couldn't have known that it would come at the absolute perfect time. Not that there isn't a perfect time to live in Paris. But this was really the perfect time. And as poetic as it would be to pretend that fate brought me here at this ideal moment, it didn't happen that way. I'm here because of the sacrifice and the support of a lot of different people. So thank you. And thank you for reading (or pretending to read) all of this hideously sappy post. I swear it will not be repeated until Christmas.

Happy Thanksgiving! (Remember me as you eat your cranberry sauce).