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Paris Transitions

"Of course I loved him.  But it reached a point where I had to choose loving him or loving my own life." For the first time this weekend I could put it simply.

I took the train into Paris on Friday morning after partying late into the night in our village.  I arrived in Paris exhausted and bleeding gin, dragged my bags up and down metro stairs to my Turkish family's home, then went right to the Canal St Martin.

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I spent an indulgent afternoon grazing through a design bookstore and roaming the streets.  After an apero I met my friend at his cubbyhole apartment.  We crouched on a doorstep in his courtyard to hide from the rain and he drank a whiskey and coke while I nursed a baby bottle of rose to go with my canned tuna salad dinner.  When a woman in an apartment above told us we shouldn't party there (we were talking quietly and it was 8 p.m.) we headed to the canal and spent the night meeting new people.

I made a point of doing exactly what I felt like all weekend.  On Saturday I slept in, had my tattoos retouched, went hunting for the perfect sneakers, then headed back to the canal for tacos and drinks.  My friend drove me home on his scooter as the rain started to pour down.  Somehow with my terrible sense of direction I got home safe, dry, happy and grateful.

I enjoyed my last day in Paris meeting up with a kindred spirit from Toronto.  She is ending her own travels around Europe and we caught up about the highs and lows of solo traveling and the joys of letting go.

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We spent most of the afternoon in a boutique filled with beautiful clothes.  I helped her put together a couple of outfits to take home and I caved for two angelic blouses to pair with jeans and motorcycle boots.  I seem to be drawn to a touch of heaven and hell these days.

We ended the night feasting on giant steak frites at Chez Omar where the owner and waiters charmed us.  I may have made promises to go dancing next time I'm in Paris.

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In the evening I couldn't sleep at all.  Now the sun is rising and in a few hours I'll head to the airport to fly to Berlin.

Like the weather in Paris this weekend, my life is in transition.  I'm not sure where I'm going to live, how I'm going to get my next paycheque, or what I want to do.  But my head and heart are in the right place.  There are some heavy grey clouds but I don't mind getting wet in the rain.

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This weekend's Paris guide:

Artazart Design Bookstore

Tough Cookie

Citadium

El Guacamole

Beija

Chez Omar