Despite cute new boots, tons of February sunshine, and some thought-provoking Joan Didion essays on my mind (currently reading The White Album), I’m missing Paris today. Call it a mild case of the Monday blues, I suppose? There are always those places you feel drawn to — a childhood street or coffee shop with fond memories. Others tug at your sense of place inexplicably, greeting you with open arms and a sense of belonging even though you are a newcomer. In that way Paris is my “heart-home,” and for me there is nothing quite like the feeling of emerging from the Metro into the streets above. Je t’aime, Paris.