Paris: Day 21

The day of school after a long weekend is the same in France. Just in case you were wondering, I believe that to be a universally accepted attribute of education throughout the world.

I got up today and crammed for a test that was pushed back another day. God loves me no matter where I decide to procrastinate studying.

In class, I realized how much I just love the Italian, Sergio, in our class. He is a hilarious character in this Parisian adventure, and I think he is my favorite. Of course he is cute and just the biggest flirt ever, but I absolutely love his humor. Today we basically made up responses to sentences. His answers were things like:

"While getting my driver's license, I..." "crushed a cat"

"When I quit smoking" "My mom was very happy" and "I started drinking"

"When I saw the movie at the theater" "I was unhappy because there was no popcorn" (Sergio is infamous for hating French theater because of this)

Next we discussed how much time different countries get off from work. In case you were wondering, Finland is the top pick at 39 days a year. Looking to move? I need a roommate! I was drifting off in thought when my professor called on me (you know, in that way that they know you aren't listening at all and want to embarrass you) to ask how much the US gets off (since I am now the only American in class). I surprised myself when, off the top of my head, I responded perfectly without a second thought of translation.

As if it was completely natural.

Since I normally tell myself an answer to a question about 3 or 4 times before he gets to me, this was a wonderful victory. Plus I proved him wrong about my not paying attention.

Today I got the chance to check out L'Arc de Triomphe. Nothing spectacular if you ask me. And shopper's paradise on the Champs Elysee. I'm not a shopper, so again, nothing huge. Next was Place de la Concorde (where everyone was getting their heads chopped off back in the day). Since it is a very busy square with lots of traffic, it was hard to see the historical value. Afterwards we checked out Les Invalides. Basically an armed forces museum, but people only go for Napoleon's tomb, which is obnoxiously huge. I got in free since I'm a student and I'm not so sure it would have been worth the 9 euros otherwise.

Next we hit up Disneyland Paris for the first time since I've been here! It was so awesome to see. It really made me miss home in Orlando. I even teared up a little. The background music was exactly the same as Frontierland back home. Sadly there is no Tom's Sawyer Island or Country Bear Jamboree, so I would be jobless! We rode Indiana Jones (great if you're looking for some whiplash with your vacation) and Pirates of the Caribbean (much longer than in the states, but no Johnny Depp, tear).

As a cast member, I get in free. Which is awesome! Although I do have to pay 7 euros each way to get there on the RER. And I have to go to guest relations to get a ticket. Psh. When I buy something, a manager has to come down to give the discount through their card. And this can only be done at one terminal for every store, which is obnoxious when you keep getting moved around.

Nonetheless, every cast member that sees my ID asks so many questions with such curiosity. They want to know all about Walt Disney World, which I like better (I can't say just yet since I haven't done much here), what I do, and if I miss home. Probably one of the few genuine Parisians, but, hey, they work for Disney, what do you expect?

After the purchase is made, I am given my things, in a sealed clear bag that says "Cast Member Exclusive." Sounds snazzy, huh? Well apparently they have "inventory issues" amongst the cast. What a bunch of Parisian thiefs, ha!

On my walk to school I couldn't shake the image of this woman from the train ride yesterday. Before we left Nice, she stood outside our car, waving and smiling a smile that could only mean someone she loves is leaving for a while and while she is happy she can't help but feel alone. Why else would she stand in front of all these people by herself looking above to her loved one for 20 minutes.

True dedication.

I can't even make it onto airport property without bursting into tears. I don't know what it is, but they make me so emotional (I feel like I should reference John Mayer's "Wheel" song here, check it out).

But saying goodbye is so much more. It's adorable. It's heart wrenching to actually watch them go. I mean you can't watch anyone leave at the airport anymore and I think that is just so damn depressing. All you get is a quick hug as airport security hurries your ride along.

I guess I wonder if anyone is mentally waiting on a train track back home. And would I ever wait on a train track in front of hundreds of people just watching?

Who knows!?

I couldn't help but wonder what she would do to occupy herself while they were gone. I would run. I know that for sure now. As I moved through the streets of Paris, I watched as bakers got ready for their day. Setting out cakes and breads just so perfectly and with such care. This was completely their calling.

You could tell in their eyes.

Almost like love.

There's no rules or specific definitions for all, but you know when you see it.

And work should be love.

And the more I read the happiness factory, the more I realize how much I remind myself to think about what makes me happy. Not what everyone thinks should make me happy or thinks I should be doing.

I made that mistake when I agreed to stay in Memphis instead of going to Central Florida for school. And I regret it nearly everyday. Things have worked out great and I won't graduate with debt. I've learned a lot. And maybe I wasn't ready.

But I won't make the mistake of letting people influence me too much again. And over the last few weeks, I have finally realized that I have to simply admit it to myself that I don't belong in an MBA program. Why waste the money?

I think I will use it to go back to school for something else.

I can't believe that I've come to accept that, in a way, the last few years of studying what people told me to study (and admittingly I found fun at first), was a waste because I refused to listen to myself.

I always felt like it was too late to turn back, when, now as I look back, it wasn't. Of course, I will still graduate with the same degree. It would be stupid to change now. But I refuse to move forward in something I don't love.

And since I love Orlando, I think I'm going to go there and be happy. And think. And really search where I am myself for where I should be going. Or maybe even staying there.

No more being afraid of being judge for working in a dream. I thought they told us that we were supposed to love our jobs? I mean, if I love it and it happens to be Disney, what's wrong with that? Why did they change the rules on me? Do they really think I can go back to a boring corporate desk job? Is that really the "potential" that I have?

No thanks. I think I will live below my potential and be happy instead.

Call me Royal Blue. (That's a Cold War Kids reference, check out "Royal Blue" when you get a chance)