Europe, I love you. I love Venice in October when the sun is low over the cold lagoon. I love the fantasyof living over Shakespeare Co, earning my keep by selling dusty old books in the morning light of the Marais. I’ve been to the States and loved it, but Europe is something magical, and it’s
Europe, I love you. I love Venice in October when the sun is low over the cold lagoon. I love the fantasyof living over Shakespeare Co, earning my keep by selling dusty old books in the morning light of the Marais. I’ve been to the States and loved it, but Europe is something magical, and it’s
Two weeks ago, I was in Paris. Paris is, obviously, the best; if you’ve never been, all I can say is that it really is exactly how you imagine it to be. The only alternate life I ever mourn for is one where I pay attention in high school french, overcome all that prohibitive anxiety