I am Madame

Dear Deven,

I write to you from a café in Nice. I sit across from an old lady we would love who is eating an almond croissant and drinking espresso. We would go to her estate sale.

I miss you very much already. Everytime I see an old lady or a toy in a Japanese store or a silly dog or a midnight cat I wish you were here to go OOOOOOHHHHH!!!

I keep telling everyone I speak Fritalian. It’s my go-to bit. They muster up a laugh.

There are trees with pink flowers and orange flowers. I’m going to the Chagall Musée today, then picking up my stuff from the hostel and taking the train to Cannes. I finally got tickets for some films.

My charger doesn’t fit the ports here and they took my water bottle in the airport but nevertheless I persevere…

Last night I went to a beach bar with people from my hostel and a drunk girl told me I was a beautiful and special person and asked me when I got here about 4 times. She looked like Sarah Wallace and I liked her. Drunk girls are often nice. There’s a marine biologist environmental activist indigenous Canadian named Desirée that I’ve spent a lot of time with. We did those we’re not really strangers cards on self love last night and failed to roll three spliffs. She gave me a CBD lollipop and a CBD gummy. I was so relieved when I met her, a kind person, after my shisha bar misadventure. I felt safe for the first time since I left home.

I miss home a lot. Yesterday I thought to myself I want to fly back right now. But I will not fly back. I will be strong. I’m already feeling better. Tired and scared feelings rise in me sometimes. Last night at the shisha bar this old man asked to massage me and I said no and I was the only woman there and I said I’m going to go and he said I offer you and I said what? He said I offer you. And he showed me a google translate that just said I offer you. And I realized he meant he would pay for me. So I got a free chicken sandwich and shisha. I got out and ran all the way back to the hostel. When I got there there were two people sitting on the steps speaking English. Dez and a blonde stoner Canadian guy. I asked to sit with them and just like that everything became ok. They gave me wine and pasta.

I wandered around Nice for 2 hours yesterday with my backpack breaking my back searching for my hostel with no service. One map in the middle of town that I kept having to go back to. But I found it.

Cigarettes here have pictures of gross teeth on them to scare people. It doesn’t work. The French smoke em anyway.

Later today when I get to Cannes everything will be safe and easy and I will be in an airbnb with a nice girl. Nice girls are so important.

Today after going to Chagall I sat on a stump and dreamed. A girl sat near me and smoked a handrolled cigarette. She asked me if I wanted to have a coffee by the beach. So we walked. She was visiting her boyfriend but didn’t want to see him. She lives in Lisbon, is from Greece, and works for Facebook, despite going to school for art history. We passed the time talking about languages and cultures. I asked her why American people are more insecure. She did not know. After that I went into a big church and took a picture of a Jane Eyre statue to send to you. I also took a picture of an old ween for you.

I found many secret paths but I could not find the way home.

Currently sitting at the bus station after being lost in Monaco, swimming in my underwear and accidentally falling asleep on the beach. A flock of preteens sat next to me blasting French rap music on a tiny speaker and singing along. One said to me “écouter madame?” I am madame.

A mother and a daughter are fighting on the bench. The mother says: Est ton chien! And hits the daughter in the face.

A little girl walking a white dog (looks soft) wears a shirt that says GUSSI in the style of GUCCI with a goose on it. I presume gussi is goose in french.

I cried at your letter very much. I wish I could write you a letter. I find it impossible to properly verbalize how much I love you.