The flight.

I have been back in Paris for two days, just lying around and enjoying the sun. As soon as I got out of the metro station, ending my twenty four hours worth of traveling I noticed that Paris had become a much nicer place. The trees were actually green and the sky was blue: things I had taken for granted the past seventeen years of my life. While laying on the grass this afternoon I finished Clockwork Orange, a book I was supposed to read last year for my final English project (I lost the book and due to the graphic nature of the book, was allowed to switch my project to a book that I had previously finished Farenheit 451, which happened to be a book about one third of the length of the former).

Matt and I had a book exchange while I was in New York and I gave him the books I had finished and he gave me A Year in the Merde, so between that and finishing Gulliver's Travels, I should be set for May.