Crazy

Dear friends and family,

I am sorry to have concerned you with my last post. My rupture with this city was in no way supposed to make you worry that I was going to launch myself off of the seine. I am simply no longer in love with Paris.

On the contrary, I've found a new love: singing. I went to karaoké (the french spelling) tonight and sang in public for the first time in my life. As someone who only lip-synchs even to happy birthday, this was a big deal. I sang a Pasty Cline song, written by the great Willie Nelson:

Crazy, crazy for feelin' so lonely
Yes I'm crazy, crazy for feelin' so blue.
I knew, you'd love me as long as you wanted.
And then someday,
You'd leave me for somebody new.
Worry, why do I let myself worry,
Wonderin', what in the world did I do?
Crazy, for thinkin'
That my love could hold you.
I'm crazy for tryin,
And crazy for cryin',
And I'm crazy for lovin you.
Crazy, for thinkin'
That my love could hold you.
I'm crazy for tryin'
And crazy for cryin'
And I'm crazy for lov-ovin you.

I was terrified, but as I let my fears and butterflies go, I got to sing my heart. As a dancer, I usually experience this feeling in a different way. This was very refreshing.

I'll be looking for other places to sing in Paris. Edith Piaf did ok for herself and I don't think she liked this place much either.

In other news, I miss pancakes. With maple syrup.