How did three months turn into three years? Have I really been in Paris for that long? It’s funny how what started as a three-month visit just kind of quickly became living here indefinitely. And, man, is it amazing how much has happened in three years! I’ve gotten married, landed a good job, learned French, and I’m starting to finally recover from what felt like perpetual homesickness.

I’m not really sure if it’s a good thing or not, but those constant lingering urges to return to my homeland, to be with my kinfolk and back on the range have finally abated. Don’t get me wrong, I still miss my country (and family and food), but not with an overbearing intensity that brings me down so low that I can’t relish in the happiness of my current home. I imagine that much of my change of heart has to do with how I’ve really started to adapt to a new culture and new language. I feel like I can finally say that I’ve learned French. I’m not fluent by any means, but I live comfortably now in a language I avoided listening to just three years ago. I spend my day having conversations in French with my colleagues; I don’t need to bring a script with me every time I run an errand; and overall, I feel more confident in expressing myself.

On top of that, I’ve come to just accept France for what it is. It was hard at first for me to balance out the good and the bad, but I feel like I’ve approached a point where all the negative things about living here can be trumped just enough by the positive. People are generally rude, but they also generally dress well. Black beans and pinto beans cost an arm and a leg, but wine is cheap as dirt. It’s super cold in the winter, but the city is drop-dead gorgeous in the fall.
>more