Last night after dinner, Keith and I hung out in the living room, trying to plan the details of our upcoming trip to Portland, Oregon, where my friend Lydia will be marrying her wonderful boyfriend Andy. Somehow, our conversation slipped from “The menu at Le Pigeon looks really interesting” to “What do you think about living in Sofia?” …which then got me thinking about Dorie Greenspan’s blog, where she is currently comparing Paris and New York.
As a New Yorker madly in love with Paris, I don’t know if I could ever decide between the two; there are days when they seem so equally romantic, and then there are the days when I want so desperately to be in one more than the other. (Then there are the days, of course, where I dream of Singapore, Shanghai and Seoul, but that’s a different conversation altogether.)
I feel like this so often, and it makes me wonder if I’m the only one always thinking about Someplace Else. Clearly I’m not, because I know the topic is on Keith’s mind, and on my friends’ too: Beth is moving to Prague this summer, Darlington’s got her sights set on London, and Alyssa and I talk constantly about moving to France (and what we would wear there). Sometimes, though, I just get so itchy about Someplace Else that everything around me loses its color and seems so dull. Is there a cure other than a plane ticket and a passport?
If I come up with one, I’ll let you know.