Thaw.

Today I did my "final check-out" with CUPA, signed a contract promising to take my last exam before I left, nodded politely in response to information about transcripts for graduate school. I renewed my subway card for the last time. I spent a few hours reading in the Contrescarpe, I went back to the Louvre to see some of the 17th- and 18th-century French paintings. I walked through the Tuileries at dusk. Tried three macarons at La Durée (chocolate, vanilla, and caramel: relevatory). Met a friend and went to a Breton-style creperie for one last dinner out, splurged on a dinner and a desert crepe. What the hell, I tell myself, it's the last time I'll be able to eat one. Walked up the rue de Rennes today, across the 6th and 5th to the rue Mouffetard, from the Louvre to the Madeleine, up the rue Vaugirard to Convention. Yesterday I sat in the Luxembourg -- maybe my last time there too, how could it be my last time there? -- and then went to a screening of La Règle du jeu at the Filmothèque du quartier latin, queueing and giggling and sinking deep into the plush red seats.

My clothes are laundered and ready to be forced into my suitcases. Am I ready to step on the airplane?