To that one weekend where we sat on rooftops and cried in bed hugging.
I WENT TO FRANCE.
This trip was pretty spontaneous. Laura sat on Mariah’s bed next to mine and said “We’re booking a trip to Nice, wanna come?” So I checked my bank account and said, my bank account advises me not to, but yes, yes I would. Booked the ticket.
This weekend in France was much needed, it was filled with overly happy moments and canned Guinness, what more could you ask for.
I’m not going to go into listing specifics, mainly because no one wants to hear about the 5 euro Chinese food or the weird french guys outside our hostel. This story does end with bed bugs though, you win some you lose some?
Highlights for future reference:
We sat on the rooftop of the hostel, what started out as a “Lindsey, fit through that window” joke turned into all of us ending up on a roof in France drinking beer and eating candy and listening to our favorite music.
Laura and I closed down the McDonalds at 1am or 2am, either or. Stalked some well dressed french boys and ended up laying down in the middle of the checkered plaza in Nice.
Played drinking games in the hostel and danced around, which quickly turned into us talking about love and playing sad songs and literally hugging each other and crying in bed as we passed cheap champagne.
Found the cute bar in the center of town that we went to both nights, listened to live music and watched as locals embraced and laughed over the bar counters and dramatically reacted to the rugby game on the screens.
Found a Pizza Hut and brought a pizza to the beach. Ate said pizza on beach and realized I was thriving.
Watched the sunset on the beach, had some nice life thoughts.
Laura and Mariah, you are near and dear to my heart.
Thank you for thinking it’s normal to hug and cry in bed on a saturday night.
Thank you for the most marvelous weekend a girl could ask for.
Here’s to stuffed crust pizza.