Project Runway is the most wonderful contest show on all of televisiondom. I'm watching Nina Chat on the reunion show (which is always a dishy delicious tid bit of yumminess) and BAM! It hit me. Tomorrow at 5:13pm I will be an hour into a million and a half hour transantlantic flight to Paris. As in France. Holy moley. I could probably die, I'm a Paris-neurotic with a cray cray mix of emotions in my longing for France heart. I mean I went to the store to buy sunscreen and I sat in front of the fifty kinds of spf for more time than is necessary for any normal human being to stand in front of any aisle anywhere. All because I was thinking about the fact that I wouldn't just be slathering that business on my little Ginger shoulders under just any sun or on any beach but under the Mediterranean sun on a beach in Nice. As in France. As in the south of France. Don't worry, I finally chose Banana Boat spf 50 aloe vera (good thing that I still had enough wits about me not to choose Coppertone . . .a rash on the beach in the south of France . . .not pretty) and now with an absolutely brimming heart (still full from a semester of discovery, elementary and lovelies) I say:

Paris m'attend parce que je t'aime!