Why today?

This is pretty long, so to save those of you who don't like words, scroll to the highlighted portion at the bottom. That'll give you the gist of this. 

I don't want to write about this.

But I told you all I was leaving today. Friends wished me a safe flight. So now I feel obligated to explain.

I am not on a flight from Charlotte to Paris right now.

In fact, I won't be on that flight tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next day.

Here's why.

 At about 9 in the morning today, I was in the car with my parents. Packed. Ready to go. Little sleep. Empty stomach. But I'm going to Paris so who cares?

I sat in my seat and realized I forgot my headphones. I went back into the house to get them, which were right next to my Kindle.

I got to the car, sat back in my seat and wondered aloud if I should take my Kindle. I don't want to read anything in English over there, but maybe I could download some French books.

So I went back inside to get my Kindle.

Next thing I know I'm on the ground. It feels sorta weird and out-of-body for a second. You know, like in a dream when you're looking at yourself. My head hurt and I couldn't really get up. I know I must have fell and hit it.

 I only remember two things directly after that.

I was sitting on my bed crying. No, it was more like weeping. You can control crying. Me, a 20-year-old woman who should be way past that stage, hands covering face.

But the other was much worse. I remember asking my mom if today was the day I was leaving for France.

 I can't remember which of these two things happened first, but logically, I want to say the question came first, then the tears.

I assume the tears were a combination of me realizing I couldn't go to France that day and the much worse realization that I couldn't remember the past few hours.

Everything seemed strange. I was wondering how it got to that day. I couldn't remember the day leading up to it.

I looked at what I was wearing. I remember picking out that outfit what seemed like a long time ago, but I couldn't remember putting it on this morning. I looked down at my TOMS. I remember buying them but...

I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw my twists, newly braided, but I couldn't even remember getting it done.

It was like I went fast-forward into a time where I didn't belong.

Then I remember one of my parents suggesting the emergency room.
On the ride, I started remembering what happened the day before. Family and friends visited.
Who? My mom asked.

Vernae...the little boy....

Soon, we're at Florida Hospital Apopka and I'm in a waiting room, weeping. I looked up and saw others in the room trying to avert their eyes.

I look back on it with a laugh now. A little short-term memory loss, and I was being such a punk.

When I was in the back waiting on the doctor with my dad, my worst Memento-inspired fears crept into my head. If you don't know what I mean go watch "Memento" on Netflix.

Anyways, the doctor came in and asked how I hit my head.

Question of the freaking century.

I tripped and landed on tile floor, but over what I don't know. I think it might have been a little piece of paper like a receipt, or it could have just been my TOMS sliding on the tile floor. They were new. In fact, I was wearing different shoes at the hospital. I found out later my mom changed them.

The doctor was a nice old guy. Interesting breath. Looked like Santa Claus.

He said I had a concussion. They were going to do an X-ray of my head, but everything should be fine.

Still, I didn't want to turn into Guy Pearce, so I asked the doctor on his way out if my memory will be fine.

"What's his middle name?" he asked. (My dad was sitting in a nearby chair).

I automatically replied.

 "Robeson."

So, that's a yes.

But technically that's long-term memory and I was worried about short-term but whatever I'm fine now.

I'm just left wondering why. Why did this have to happen. Today, of all days?

And more, I always pride myself on having a great memory. It still irks me that everything is back except for the first few minutes after I hit my head.

But, at the end of the day, these are first world problems. As my mom told me:
"Sleep on it tonight. Say a prayer. Give God thanks. It could be worse."

So, you all must be wondering about Paris. After phone calls and texts and this post is already way too long so I'll just get to the point.

My flight is now on Tuesday. Unfortunately, I'm missing the first few days of the program because of this.

 By the time I wrote most of this post, I realized it doesn't make sense to say "I don't want to write about this," then proceed to write a novel when I could have just wrote "I got a mild concussion minutes before leaving for my flight, so now I'm leaving Tuesday."

Really, I did want to write about it. You know what, I like to write.  And writing about it makes me feel better.

But I'll make a warning for folks at the top. It's the least I could do.













P.S.
Regine Lyons helped me off the floor after I fell. I don't remember, which is why I didn't mention it. Sorry Regine. You win sister points.

3 days

A Royale with Cheese.

That's what they call it in Paris. Because of the metric system. At least, according to John Travolta in "Pulp Fiction." Who knew you could get a little French culture from a Tarantino film?

That's the goal. To really learn more about French culture. Especially the language. I hope to speak some trés legit French when I get back.

In three days, I'll be on my way to Orlando International Airport to catch a flight going to Charlotte, North Carolina. From there, I'll be headed to Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris, France.

It's all part of the UF in Paris program.

For the next four weeks, I'll be living with a host family in Malakoff, France, a suburb just outside of Paris. Some fellow Gators and I will be taking classes on French language and culture, both taught in French.

Here's to hoping I won't be in over my head. My oldest sister studied in France and taught English over there for a year, so she gave me some tips. And I've been taking French classes since I started high school.

This is about the point where people ask "Why French?"

Well, I have my reasons. I love the language. I think it's beautiful. And smooth. It's like having a spoonful of ice cream hover on your tongue.

I'm a journalism major, so I like the news. I'll probably be getting a lot of that.

New communication. New currency. New country.

I wonder how many times I'll get lost on the metro.













P.S.
I decided not to go with the first blog name I had in mind. My inspiration was a song on "Watch the Throne."