What I lack in skill, I make up in enthusiasm. Or, I just make up.

I’m back from my travels in gay Paris. It was a tremendously wonderful experience that is almost too much for words. I literally started to cry at points in the journey I was so full of happiness. My 30th birthday exceeded all my expectations.

Neither my mother nor I speak French. We picked up a few key words and phrases, but mostly we relied and the French and their knowledge of English. The natives we met seemed to me to be a delightful and friendly people who were pleasantly amused by us and our haphazard forays into their language. My vocabulary of French mostly consists of exclamations which, as my mother realized in an elevator in Paris, come from one source.

Bon jour, mes amis!