If there's one thing that I know for sure, it is that people all over the world look forward to the big days in life: the weddings, births, vacations and graduations. Growing up in Wisconsin, I was raised with the notion that your 21st was the most important of all birthdays. Now there are some people who would think that turning 21 in a country where the legal drinking age is 18 is "a waste." However, I am writing to assure you that it was anything but.
Being that I was born on April 1st, I thought the Universe was playing a joke on me since my 21st landed on a Monday – that was, of course, until I learned that classes were canceled, as it was the day following Easter. Oddly enough, a few days before the holiday, my birthday came up naturally in a conversation with my landlady. She gladly offered to prepare a birthday meal for me, so I joined her, her husband and the Italian tenant, Rita, for lunch on Easter Sunday. Madame de Savignac made a dish with duck and pineapple, roasted potatoes and a tomato and mushroom salad. For dessert she bought strawberries (after noticing my constant supply in the fridge) and an assortment of macaroons. It was great to eat another home-cooked French meal, since the last one I had was at Émilien's house back in January. It was also nice to spend some quality time with my landlords and learn more about their lives and opinions.
The next morning I woke up with a smile on my face because I was officially 21 years old – at least according to France time. That afternoon, I met up with Valentine, to get some world-famous falafel in le Marais. Val also surprised me with a birthday cake, complete with a pink birthday candle. After lunch, we walked to le Comptoir Général for a few drinks to celebrate my birthday and the launch of the ghetto's museum's latest campaign: Looking for the Last Dinosaur. We spent hours talking about anything and everything, both in French and in English, and became closer friends in the process.
I got back to my apartment that evening only to find more than 100 happy birthday notifications on my Facebook, which really meant a lot being so far away from home. Other than spending the day with my loved ones, I couldn't have asked for a more perfect birthday. Being able to turn 21 in a city as historically rich and beautiful Paris is far better than any hangover, regardless of the amount of fun you faintly remember having the night before.
Being that I was born on April 1st, I thought the Universe was playing a joke on me since my 21st landed on a Monday – that was, of course, until I learned that classes were canceled, as it was the day following Easter. Oddly enough, a few days before the holiday, my birthday came up naturally in a conversation with my landlady. She gladly offered to prepare a birthday meal for me, so I joined her, her husband and the Italian tenant, Rita, for lunch on Easter Sunday. Madame de Savignac made a dish with duck and pineapple, roasted potatoes and a tomato and mushroom salad. For dessert she bought strawberries (after noticing my constant supply in the fridge) and an assortment of macaroons. It was great to eat another home-cooked French meal, since the last one I had was at Émilien's house back in January. It was also nice to spend some quality time with my landlords and learn more about their lives and opinions.
The next morning I woke up with a smile on my face because I was officially 21 years old – at least according to France time. That afternoon, I met up with Valentine, to get some world-famous falafel in le Marais. Val also surprised me with a birthday cake, complete with a pink birthday candle. After lunch, we walked to le Comptoir Général for a few drinks to celebrate my birthday and the launch of the ghetto's museum's latest campaign: Looking for the Last Dinosaur. We spent hours talking about anything and everything, both in French and in English, and became closer friends in the process.
I got back to my apartment that evening only to find more than 100 happy birthday notifications on my Facebook, which really meant a lot being so far away from home. Other than spending the day with my loved ones, I couldn't have asked for a more perfect birthday. Being able to turn 21 in a city as historically rich and beautiful Paris is far better than any hangover, regardless of the amount of fun you faintly remember having the night before.