23rd Birthday in Paris

I spent my birthday in Paris, staying with François and his family. Jean and his girlfriend Elodie came up from Nice, and Hana came down from Sweden. It was a really nice weekend.

We spent one day in Normandy, touring the beaches and the war cemeteries (and stopping to sample some cider along the way). It actually felt really important to be there. Seeing cross after cross of 18-year-old, 20-year-old, 22-year-old, row upon row, really put things into perspective.

Jean's lovely girlfriend spoke very little English, so Hana and I tried our hardest to speak as much French as possible. It was exhausting and made me realize how bad my French has gotten, but also it was a lot of fun. Every time I go to France I realize again how much I want to live there at some point, and how important it is to me to get my French up to par.

Also, yes, I'm 23. Two years from 25, which is only 5 years from 30. I'd like to say I don't have a problem with getting older, but part of me really believed I would've accomplished a lot more by this age. I think my 15-year-old self would be simultaneously proud and disappointed by where I am right now. I'm not 100% sure which side he'd be leaning towards; I suppose it doesn't matter anyway.