Don't Cry Because It's Over...

Don’t Cry Because It’s Over...
... smile because it happened. And I think I've been doing well, for the most part.

Jess landed on Xmas day. In true French fashion, I was late getting to the airport because of an "action sociale" with the RER at Gare du Nord (leave it to the French to strike on Xmas day). But just seeing him was marvelous. We rented the car, drove back to Troyes, and cuddled in my tiny apt to stay warm.

The next day we were off on our Eurotrip. Picked up 2 other assistants in Reims, then stopped in wet, snowy, foggy Luxembourg for the afternoon. After 2 hours of trekking through snowy slush, we were ready to go.

We got to Dusseldorf by nighttime. After wandering around aimlessly trying to find the place the other girls were staying (please, if you are ever tagging along in someone's car, at least have the courtesy to get directions beforehand), and getting miserably lost on the way back to our hotel, we were settled for the night. Dusseldorf is not the most spectacular city; more than anything, it was a layover en route to our next destination, and an excuse for Jess to go to Germany.

The next morning (and more wandering back to find our companions), we were on the road to Amsterdam. That was the only time we hit traffic the entire trip. Jess and I got a kickass hotel/hostel room (a private room in a hostel) smack in the Red Light district. I was, of course, anxious to get to a coffee shop ASAP, and the rest of the trip was a delightful blur. We saw the Puzenboat (a boat on a canal full of stray cats), walked around, got offered drugs on the street a total of 14 times, and after two nights were on our way again, but not so quickly.

Again, back to the whole, "Please, be organized!" thing, one of our tag-alongs was almost 2 hours late meeting us at the train station to head back to the car. Not off to a good start. As a result, our planned afternoon in Antwerp turned into a mere hour before heading to Lille (northern France, our middle ground between A'dam and Paris).

Early the next day we were off again. Destination: Paris. We had to get the rental car back by 10 at Charles de Gaulle airport, then we bid our companions adieu and headed into Paris. We got to our hotel only to learn that the hotel was under construction, and they had gotten us a room at the hotel across the street. Whatev. Steve and Kristina met us and we got our Paris adventure started.

Props to my fiance for picking an awesome hotel in an awesome location-- 10 minutes walking distance to the Eiffel Tower. We climbed it the next day, something I didn't have the chance to do the last time I spent time in Paris. And then, the New Year... thanks to my savior, AKA the unofficial assistants website, I had found some Mexican restaurants in Paris. And though California burritos did not exist, the waiter was actually MEXICAN, the salsa was actually SPICY, and we got there in time for happy hour. Life was good. Back to the hotel to get gussied up for NYE.

We rang in the new year in front of the glowing Eiffel Tower. French fireworks leave a lot to be desired, but the cheerful chants of, "Bonne Annee!" were sufficient. The only downside of this entire trip was later this night, with Jess and I getting into a stupid, drunken fight. I woke up the next morning hungover, physically and emotionally. But in true Nikki & Jess fashion, we were able to calmly discuss the issue and get over it.

The rest of the time in Paris was wonderful, though the touristy stuff was avoided. We went to the Grande Arche in La Defense, which my architecture-loving future hubby adores, and went to the top. It was quite impressive, and the area is also home to the only Starbuck's I have ever seen in France. We caught a train and headed back to Troyes.

That night Jess got to meet Rich, one of my fellow assistants. We had pizza and drinks at Gainz Bar, one of our increasingly favorite haunts (because there is just so much to do here). The next night we hit up Le Montana, which happens to be Ladies' Night on Thursdays. Free entry and champagne for me, a good idea in theory, a bad idea once executed.

During our time in Troyes, we also hit up the mayor's office to find out what, exactly, they demand of two foreigners wishing to get married here. A few, "Why don't you just get married in the U.S.?" and, "This will be very complicated" statements later, we had our list of required paperwork. Typical French bureaucracy here-- if you can successfully complete the damn-near impossible paperwork, you're good to go. That requires Jess and me to gather various documents, have them professionally translated, find 2-4 people to be our witnesses, get an interpretor (I'm hoping I can ask one of my professors to do it and not have to pay someone) and get all this stuff turned in 2 months before we wish to get married. The kicker? We have to be together when we go turn the stuff in. I'm gonna try to find a way around this; even if Jess is in London next month again on business, I don't think he should have to come to France for a day just to walk with me the entire block and a half to hand over some paperwork to the mairie. Damn France.

The next day we rented a car yet again to head to Fontainbleau and Epernay. However, we got to the car place at noon and (curses to me for not thinking of this) they are already on their 2 hour lunch break. So we didn't get the car til about 3, ended up getting wretchedly lost in Fontainbleau, and had to scrap Epernay. Oh well, it was worth it just to stay in a hotel room with a big bed and bathtub once again.

Back to Troyes on Saturday. That night, Jess, the lovely Brit assistants and I gathered for a game of Apples to Apples and a very special treat: a bottle of wine that Jess brought. I missed California wine so much, and the bottle we had on Xmas day knocked me on my ass. But it was a nice time.

Sunday was spent wandering around Troyes once more so Jess could get some pictures. Then the packing commenced, we snuggled into my dinky bed, and enjoyed our last night together.

I don't know if I have ever dreaded an alarm as much as I dreaded the one this morning. I wish I could've gone to Paris with him, just for those few extra precious hours together. Instead, I helped him haul his bags onto the train, kissed him goodbye and jumped off before I too ended up Paris-bound. I watched him take his coat off and get into his seat. I followed the train as it departed. I let out a sob so loud the conductor guy on the platform turned to me. "C'est difficile a dire 'au revoir' a mon amour," I whimpered. "Mais il revien? (But he will come back?)" he asked. "Oui," I said. "Ne pleut pas, alors!" he said with a sympathetic smile.

I wish I could say I took his advice. I did, until the second I got back to my now very empty apartment. I only cried briefly though, because fortunately Chris was online and chatted with me taking my mind off things. I guess it's good classes started again today as it kept me from dwelling on my sadness, and it was nice to see smiling faces asking me if I had a nice vacation.

However, I find it ironic that the Christmas lights in town that have been blinking for weeks are now turned off. And just like this morning, the second I walked in the door, I cried.

But I am not sad. This was cake compared to when I left Jess in London. The days are getting longer, the weather is getting nicer (for now), only one more month til my next vacation and hopefully, Jess will be back in London then. Chris is going to visit me. I may see Priscilla on Friday. Christy is down for 4:20 in Amsterdam and Vinay will be in Paris for business sometime around then as well. And if all goes to plan, Jess will be here again in April, and take something very special back with him-- his new wife.