under repair

Forgoing frugality, I treated myself to a cab ride from Gare du Nord yesterday. I typed in the code to my apartment building without thought, and 14 hours after saying goodbye to my parents at New York's JFK airport, entered my petit flat for the first time in two months. That is, once I'd walked up six flights of stairs with my carry-on luggage. Our rickety elevator is finally being repaired! Yay. It took me another three trips to lighten my suitcase enough to drag it up, too. Thank you for the warm welcome back, Paris.

The absurdity of my arrival made me laugh out loud. Since then, I've unpacked, cleaned, and dined nearby with the Rachael. It feels weird to be back; a good weird. Everything is so distantly familiar. (I phrased it in my head that way as I grocery-shopped this morn). Even still, as I readjust to time and Frenchness this weekend, I've also made plans to belatedly celebrate 'Galentine's Day'.

So, Happy Valentine's Day to you! I hope you delight in wine and chocolate [and pizza] with someone(s) you care about tonight.

Though I'll spend mine with Amy and Lorelei, my parents are probably technically my Valentines this year. They did thoughtfully send me off with perfume, chocolate kisses, these sneakers (in red), and the sweetest card. I basically miss them already. And now, to end on a not-so-sappy note, here are some charitable ways to spread the love today with UNICEF and the Case Foundation. À tout !