nostalgic.

songs and clothes have such strong, vivid memories for me.

i attach instances in my life with when i wore certain pieces of clothing, or listened to certain songs on a specific occasion.

not with my whole wardrobe or playlist, but enough to have a handful of really good memories that get to be replayed in my mind every once in awhile when i am reminded and inspired by bringing back the music or the outfit.

putting on this shirt and getting ready, my music was on shuffle.

and my favorite song, clair de lune, came on.

i have memories of walking around the orangerie museum on a cold and rainy day in paris.

my favorite kind of day.

it was actually my last day in the city, and i had wanted to see the museum before i left so i made the trek over there from hotel de ville.

i had about a million bags full of clothes and souvenirs and food that i had bought that morning, and i literally had to rent one of those crates with wheels from the museum to fit all my stuff in it.

definitely embarrassing. definitely represented america well there.

i stood in the monet exhibit room for a good thirty minutes listening to clair de lune over and over and just stared.

something about that song makes me wanna just melt. and sit. it's like one of those really hot days in arizona where you're sitting in the car after church and the heat is radiating through you.

and you're paralyzed.
it just stops you.
but it a really good, calm way.

i sat in the exhibit, looking at pictures full of blues and purples and greens all swirling together.

and i was wearing this shirt too.
i remember feeling like an art student because i had used my art card to get in, and i looked so grungy and dirty [no offense].

[umm, it might have been like two weeks dirty, and with about a million other random layers on as well. you're welcome for that info.]

 i remember really wanting to cry after awhile.

something about the song and leaving the loveliest city the next morning all coming at me.
i felt so overwhelmed and sad for my three months in paris to already be over.
i wanted to burst.
to already be expected to go back to america and leave my france.
i hadn't even learned french all the way.
or went inside the rodin museum.
or tried the potato salad by sacre coeur.
there was so much rushing to me that i never got to do.

later that day, i walked over to the eiffel tower to "say goodbye".
still beautiful and gray and rainy everywhere.
looking at it, i knew for a fact that i was coming back again sometime in my lifetime.
there was just no way i couldn't.
and after i realized that, the heavy, rushing feelings left me.

and cliche-ically [that's a word] enough, i was content. happy. calm.

i smiled at le tour eiffel and i left.

mmmmm. i so miss you, paris.