I'm living with a cute couple in an adorable house in a London suburb for a week in a purple bedroom with tigger and eeyore on the wall to keep me company. This is really livin'! It's warm without using a space heater, the showerhead is attached to the wall, and I don't need a flashlight to use the toilet.
I got here a little early so I stopped for a snack. It was an Italian place and the waiter spoke Italian with me before I even opened my mouth, I swear. So, now I'm in London,
happy to be speaking Italian and what do you suppose happened? Enough French snuck into the conversation that
I'm in a place where I should be speaking English but
instead I'm speaking Italian and the next thing you know
the waiter says, "oh, you speak French."
I guess you can take a girl out of Paris, but you can't
take Paris out of a girl.
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