I’m currently reading Rosecrans Baldwin’s Paris, I Love You, But You’re Bringing Me Down. I am really enjoying it, even if it makes me want to get on the blue line, ride all the way to O’Hare, and get the first outbound flight to Charles de Gaulle airport.
I don’t think there’s anything in the universe telling me that I need to return to Paris. I was only there last year, albeit for a day. A day, or a few days, is not enough for most places, especially Paris. Not when there’s so much walking and eating and shopping and more eating and occasionally drinking to do.
This morning, when I was reading the book on the bus, the Spotify app on my smartphone played the French version of “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You” by Michael Jackson. In French, the song is called “Je Ne Veux Pas La Fin De Nous”. Which sounds to me like “I Do Not Want The End Of Us”. It has the same feeling of longing as the original English title, but with a little more desperation.
If that isn’t the universe but the ghost of a French speaking and singing Michael Jackson telling me to get to France, then I don’t know what.