Entering & Leaving Paris

Daisy checks into her hostel, The 3 Ducks, and enters the quarter where she will be one of 6 people, sharing the same room. She is overly excited about embarking on a new adventure, meeting new strangers, and making new memories in a city she has never stepped foot in before. “What better city than Paris to walk aimlessly in?” says Daisy, a girl with only 19 years of life experience. Can 19 years of life experience hurt Daisy in her quest of finding herself, which are her intentions in Paris? Or can her 19 years of pure naiveness help her discover what life’s lessons she was lacking all along? Daisy has all the time to determine those questions being that she only bought herself a one-way ticket to Paris, and only has a life savings of $2,000 American dollars.

I’m trying to read French Vogue at Charles de Gaulle airport as I await my flight to Barcelona, Spain. I had just spent the best/worst New Year’s Eve of 2005. Best and worst because as I was in front of the Eiffel Tower with my girlfriends celebrating the coming of 2006, I can’t help it but cry and think of the family I left behind in order to accomplish my dreams of visiting Europe. As I’m crying, I’m also feeling angry. My family succeeded if their plan for raising me was to make me feel totally inadequate for the huge world that awaits me, or not. Here I was, in one of the most awesome cities in the world, and I’m crying like a baby because up to that moment I was never able to walk as far as my invisible umbilical cord allowed me to at the 22 years of life I had.

It’s week three for Daisy’s Parisian adventure. In order to make her $2,000 stretch and last into Euro dollars, she spends €2 for a ham & cheese baguette for dinner time, but only eats half. Lucky enough for her, The 3 Ducks offers free breakfast every day. Another perk of that hostel was that there was a bar there. Here’s something else Daisy will discover, the art of drinking alcohol, something she never did back in Orange County, Florida. Daisy became friends with her roommates, Dorota and Ewa who were Polish tourists. Once they realized that Daisy never drank, they ran down to the hostel bar and ordered a round of Zywiec beer. Daisy didn’t like the taste, but after 3 pints, she didn’t seem to mind it as much.

Who am I kidding, of course I had the best time in Paris. I have wanted to visit Paris ever since I was a little girl because of my all time favorite cartoon, Madeline. Yeah, maybe my crying had something to do with my previous drinking. I always get emotional when I drink. Note to self: don’t mix your drinks. Also, the girls and I finished smoking our “cigarettes” we brought all the way from Amsterdam; the one we couldn’t finish smoking at Red Light District. I was able to see priceless art, impeccable architecture, and view amazing landmarks in only 3 days. What more can I ask for?

Daisy has been in Paris for two months, 3 weeks now. She knew that in order to make it in Paris she would have to get a job. She began bartending at the hostel’s bar and got to live there for half the price she was paying previously. She also started to take French classes in the day in order for her to strive in this new city. She made a decision to never go back home the moment she arrived to Paris. She has nothing to go back home to, she had left her abusive home behind and her scars along the way.

I’m boarding the plane now, Barcelona awaits me. I will be honest, I think I’m starting to lose myself here. Before I left home I was so sure of myself and my plans to major in International Business. When did I ever want to study that major? I think I was home, sheltered and closed out from the world for too much time, for far too long.