I can't remember the first time I ever decided I wanted to go to Paris but I am glad, nonetheless to be in the city that inspired many a French romcom, a slightly disorienting art film and legions upon legions of books.

I've always thought that next to Spain, Paris would be my foremost entry to the European continent but alas, life had other plans, but they were lovely plans nonetheless.

Paris, to me, is both overwhelming and underwhelming. It's just as gritty as it has been in the movies, the women just as beautiful and enigmatic, the men just as artsy. The streets sometimes smell of wiwi and other European cities I've seen ae cleaner, but the city is just as striking.

I haven't had much time to explore the city but so far, I can assure everyone who's dying to ask that the French are not rude at all and all of them doesn't get fat. I'm off to Versailles today and I'm beside myself in seeing the palace that is the centerpiece of one of my favorite movies, Marie Antoinette by Sofia Coppola. In the background, Radio Dept. is already playing.