I remember walking around in the airport in Paris—Charles De Gaulle—in December 1985. I was waiting for my flight back to Boston after my semester abroad in Rome. I was listening to my Sony Walkman, which had the songs that had been the soundtrack for the entire semester—Take on Me by A-Ha, Money for Nothing by Dire Straits, 99 Luftballons by the German band Nena.
I was hungover. I was sad. It was the end. Back to America. I knew it was going to be culture shock. So many things had happened that semester—some good, some bad—but all of it was new and exciting. I had traveled through Europe with friends, had a fling with a fellow student who was studying in France, been semi-stalked by an Italian guy, smoked hash and saw Sting perform live, been chased down the street by a very angry nun who was mad I’d let my friend use my roommate’s bed in the convent, been subjected to my first public masturbator (aka “The Jerk”), ordered entire meals in Italian, been awakened on a train by a French security guard who didn’t like my friend’s Filipino passport, got all my clothes destroyed by an Italian laundromat, and seen the most magnificent art and wonders of western civilization from the Mona Lisa to the Colosseum to Pompeii to the Vatican.
Walking through that airport felt like the last scene in a movie—a very 80s movie.

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Nice! 😊
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Thanks Andrea! 😉
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Jesus H, good job honoring your friendship in that tight spot. 😂
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I know! Hot, right?
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Jesus H, good job honoring your friendship in that tight spot. 😂
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Ughhh I felt this Mary 💔
Returning back to reality after time away doing cool things, I sort of remember that feeling! Except mine wasn’t abroad, it was merely a couple of provinces away but that bummed out feeling I recall so clearly!
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Corre 😍😁
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