all my bags are packed

Dear Paris,

We're going on a break.

I'm putting our love affair on hold and running off to Vancouver.

It's not you, it's me. I have needs. I need my family, good coffee in giant mugs, quality sushi on every street, bran muffins, the Pacific Ocean, a hot bath, good hip hop music, and friends who are a bad influence on my liver.

And so for 10 days I'll be switching wine for vodka, espressos for Americanos, brie for orange cheddar, Edith Piaf for Dela Soul, baguette for whole wheat, jam for peanut butter, croissants for doughnuts, cigarette smoke for air, and French for some good Canadian slang.

Instead of "Bonjour mes amis! Ca va?" I'll be able to reform to "What's up bitches?"

I think it's for the best. Me and you are great together, but your waiters are snobby, your men are stalkers, and your coffee cups are too small.

But fear not mon amour, I'll be back. I still want to get to know you better. I still have many pastries to try, different yoghurt flavours to taste, wine to drink, and fashionable men to seduce.

I'm not done with you yet mon cheri.

Forever yours,

Gillian