Right now, I would very much like to be in France at a café - drinking coffee, eating a croissant, reading poetry, and speaking French with Rachel Hogue. Later in the afternoon, we'd go for a walk along a country road, stopping at a market for fresh produce. We'd visit an art museum and laugh pretentiously at obvious tourists. I would wear a beret. As we headed back to our ritzy hotel, Rachel would strike up a conversation about Coco Chanel while drinking Chardonnay.
Carla Bruni would play on the radio as we fell asleep.
Instead, I'm in Massachusetts doing homework and eating spoonfuls of granola.
C'est la vie.
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