Oh, Paris. (Pronounce it pa-[hock a lougee]-ee to get the effect.)

Without getting all philosophical about my life, my love for travel, my choice to become a geographer, and a pretty sincere loathing about my roots in the South, I'd like to tell you simply that I love Europe. The history, fashion, respect for art. Je ne sais quoi.

I spent a semester abroad when I was 16. I actually flew out the day I turned 16. Best sweet 16 I could imagine. My first plane ride. My first time really away from my parents. My first real adventure. And I promised myself I'd return.

So, I did. Less than a year later I spent my Spring Break in Paris. It was rushed and hairy (and by hairy I imply the necessity of hair of the dog). And, again, I promised myself I'd return.

And then life began to happen. I met David. High school graduation. Immediate college. More college. Cute kid. More college. College graduation. Freelancing. Life in the mountains. Long story short: it's nine years later and I haven't left the country. I'm still in the South.

I've always wanted a job that would allow me to travel. Um, I did get a geography degree. And really, freelance life has the potential, with me setting my own hours, booking my own projects, etc, but little opportunity. I've worked with several international clients, but none required travel. Sadly.

Then, about 3 weeks ago, an opportunity arose. I must take a moment here to admit two things: I have been trolling for a reason to do some business-related (read: write-offable) travel and I suck at Photoshop. Illustrator has always been my Adobe drug of choice.

When I ran across BlogShopLA's Paris class I seriously almost peed myself. Then I cried. Then I almost threw up. My emotions are out of control.

I debated and almost yarfed for a week. David was in Montana, so I didn't have my Mr. Reasonable to discuss this with like I wished.

Do I go? Do I not go? Why the hell wouldn't I go?! Omg, I can't go. How dumb! But how dumb not to go!!

On and on.

David told me to shut up and go. Yes. From Mr. Reasonable. But, by myself? Alone? And I should save the money, right?

So I decided I'd do the "responsible" thing and not go. I'd save the money and not put myself in uncomfortable situations (I got all my important stuff - passport, money, pack of gum - stolen during that first trip to Europe. That kind of scary and international violation stays with you). There. Decision made.

But I was miserable.

I had a glass or two of wine on that Friday night, called David in Montana, and told him I wasn't going. He understood, and told me he'd be behind me no matter what I chose, but told me to still mull it over a little longer, making my final decision on Monday. And I sat on the back porch thinking about it.

That's when it came to me. Isn't this what I've wanted for forever? A job that allows me to travel. A reason to travel. A life with enough cushion in terms of time and finance where nothing would be stretched too thin. If I didn't go, I'd be so angry at myself to weeny-ing out. What's the point of building this kind of life for myself if I'm going to weeny out! And I wanted to go. I didn't need to wait until Monday to know that I wanted to go. Period.

And that was enough to me.

I got online immediately, sent BlogShopLA an email, and I was in. And I cried. (Surprise!!!)

There you have it. I'm traveling to Paris, completely alone, in October. I feel it's appropriate. My first big adventure as an almost-not-a-minor was to Europe. My first big-girl all-by-myself job adventure will also be to Europe. I'm totally geeking out.

Now I've got to go shopping.