So- I've finally begun to write in the pages of this much anticipated Parisian virtual journal. It does seem fitting it would be tucked away in a bistro style café on a rainy Parisian day consuming what I hate to admit has become copious amounts of croissants. Or- as the Parisians would say "Chocolat du Pain"
As the days grow shorter here as winter approaches my hot summer nights in Italy seem to dwindle farther into the back compartments of my memory. Par example- my hot Italian romance with the muscular descendant of a Roman God. As much as I am consumed by the sheer thrill of living in the city I've only dreamt about since I could walk I am in fact a little love sick for Italia... But seriously- who WOULDN'T BE!? Hot Italian nights with a sexy Roman guy who proposes his ring to you on your last night in Rome in hopes you won't forget him...
Lets be honest girls- this doesn't happen everyday so I'd say when it does you may as well bask in the delicious feelings the memory offers you for as long as possible. Which is exactly what I'm doing with what seems to be quickly becoming an overload of french wine and carbohydrates.