I spent this past weekend among my people. Bloggers. Women bloggers, more particularly. There were a few men, but it’s called BlogHer for a reason. There were hugs, chatter, laughter, tears, learning, questions, pictures, dancing, and so much more. I felt full of life. I was connected and believed that anything I wanted to do could be done!
Hours before I was to leave New York City though, I sat with a group of women. As we sat on the floor in the foyer at the Hilton New York eminiscing, talking shop and introducing new friends, and trying to figure out who was going to JFK at what time and can we share a cab, I met Jessica who blogs at It’s Jessica’s Life. Jessica is a 30-something woman who grew up in France. Did you read that? France! It was meant to be! Jessica was destined to be my new BFF (Best Friend from France), I guess that would really be BFFF then, right?
So, I meet Jessica. From France. And tell her about my Ultimate Someday — to live in France. I was so excited to tell someone from France about my dream to live in France. And for the first time in my 40-something years I was told what probably is the truth that no one wanted to tell me because I’m too fragile of a flower to blow my petals off with such news as was delivered so matter-of-factly by my new BFFF. In one breath, Jessica told me that I shouldn’t live in France. That I can’t work there anyway. And she probably told me other stuff but I stopped listening. It’s kind of like that movie Jerry Maguire where the girl said ‘You had me at hello.” Only it wasn’t.
How am I supposed to move to France and live there if, well, I shouldn’t move to and live in France? Now, don’t get me wrong, she wasn’t mean or anything like that. Just matter of fact. And I love her for that. She was totally honest. No one else ever thought to be honest with me. To tell me the truth about unemployment and the employment system in France.
And while Jessica suggested I start working on my freelance career, I really wanted to tell her I planned on winning the lottery to fund this Ultimate Someday. Or, because winning the lottery isn’t really all that practical I’m actually trying to save so I can move to France.
Except, now I shouldn’t move to France. I must have looked devastated, so Jessica let me in on the secret to how I could still have my Ultimate Someday and probably experience it better while likely still having to work (she must have sensed my uber Type-A ness). Now, I can move to France. But not France, France. Like Paris, France or even the French Countryside. Unless things change, and we know how much things change in France, I’ll need to live in a town near the Swiss border.
That’s fine too. I think Jessica might really think I’m going to win the lottery. You know, Swiss bank accounts and everything. And when I win said lottery and move to Swiss France, not France France, my new BFFF Jessica can come visit me any time!
Would you come visit me too?