If I Could Live Anywhere

If I could live anywhere, it’s hard to say where I’d choose.  It really depends on when I’m living there.  If it’s now, it would really be hard for me to relocate and be away from my family.  After all, I have a huge brood of children at the moment and they are quite useful at helping me avoid going bat shit crazy.

So let’s pretend this question revolves around, if I could live anywhere at any time in my life, where would it be/have been.  And I’ll tell you what dudes, it would be Paris in my early 20’s.  I know that’s all like 14 year old romantic garbage, but I don’t give a fuck and screw you for judging me.  As a matter of fact, I went to Paris when I was 14, with 2 years of junior high French under my belt.  The rest of my high school and college years were spent moaning in misery about how broke I was and how I would never make it back to Paris.  But I always wanted to.

When I went there, I was truly in awe of the antiquity of Europe in general.  It really put into perspective how absolutely young the United States really is.  I was amazed by the buildings, the art and the people.  And I always wanted to live in an apartment along the Seine and eat baguettes for lunch and make out with French dudes named Pierre.

Someday I’ll make it back sans the make out sesh with Pierre, but one day I would like to spend about a month in France truly appreciating the architecture, art and history.  And then go to the Mediterranean and sail around in my yacht.  I don’t actually have a yacht but this is all fantasy right now.  So in that case, I will also be wearing a bikini and looking extra MILF-y.

3 thoughts on “If I Could Live Anywhere

  1. You’ve used the word MILF twice in one day. I’m impressed.

    Dude, I’m so there. Hopefully you’ll have a spare room on your yacht…

  2. OOOla la! Tres Bien! I’ve been to Paris only once and my favorite part was the Catacombs..you know where all the skulls are underground. creeeeepy! I also talked with a French accent the entire time – even when I was speaking zee Eeeenglish, which the French LOVE – and only on the last day of our trip did my friend V tell me that every time I walked into a store, I greeted everyone with “I speak English?” in my very bad French. And although I didn’t kiss any Pierre’s, I did eat my weight is beignets. Bon Nuit!

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