Exactly one week ago, my husband I were driving to to a team event (he plays professional basketball here in France), talking about how much we wished we had left for Paris that evening, instead of waiting to leave in the morning like we had planned. It wasn’t even 2 hours later, as we were bowling and laughing with our French and American teammates, that the Paris tragedy began. 130 lives were taken, and over 350 people were injured — 100 of those are said to still be in critical condition. It wasn’t until yesterday that we learned that the horrifically disgusting human responsible for these barbaric acts is now rotting in hell, where he surely belongs. Needless to say, the past week as been filled with so many different emotions and feelings: Deep, deep sadness for those effected and for the entire country of France. Terror, when thinking of how those innocent people must have felt as the attackers were spraying bullets at them. Insanely lucky, as we could have just as easily been enjoying a Friday evening in Paris. And finally, longing to be home with our family.
You’ve all been watching the news, surely, and have your own feelings about what happened in Paris last week, so I don’t want to drag you down with this post. Having said that, there hasn’t been much sleeping going on in this little flat, and tomorrow is game day, so you can bet your buns I’ll be spending this rainy Friday evening soaking in bath salts, candles lit, generous pour of vino in my hand, mud mask on my face, and Miranda Lambert on repeat.
Cheers to the freakin’ weekend, friends.