asked about the naked girl: Photo

(via Reterritorialising Urbanity | Place Hacking)

I haven’t had a late night talk with a girl for a long time. You know the type when you’re just getting to know each other and you talk on the phone for for a really, really long time. Late into the night.

Talking to the point where you are both thinking “I’m going to be so tired tomorrow…” But you both know it’s worth it.

Somehow I had one of these last night.

The French girl that I met when I first got here seven weeks ago has been visiting her family in the south for about four weeks. We’ve exchanged emails—maybe six or seven apiece—but I know she’s quite busy so she doesn’t have so much time to sit and write emails to some guy she barely knows who is just here to visit. I get that, and I have just come to appreciate that she takes the time at all.

So last night I absolutely swore to myself that I was going to start getting back into a better sleeping pattern. No more 3am for me. So I tried to fall asleep early (for Paris) at 1am. I put on a video on my laptop and laid in bed.

At around 1:30 I was still awake and figured that I should just check Facebook one last time. I end up checking it late because everyone I know in the US is 6-9 hours behind me, so mostly nothing is posted while I’m awake. Not that I’m really a Facebooker anyway—I mostly just lurk and keep a fairly low profile.

Anyway, I pop onto Facebook for about 10 seconds and I had a chat message pop up.

It was her.

She wanted to know how I was—if I was still working. We typed back and forth about a lot of things—Paris, her visit with her family, my family’s visit with me, the weather. Then we talked about music and movies, and then horrible movies that are so bad that you must watch them just to experience them. How to swear in French and the equivalent in English.

Then we typed in French for a while and she again assured me that I was doing well even though I’m convinced it sounds like she’s exchanging chats with a 4 year-old when my French kicks in.

Before we knew it, three hours had passed. That’s a long time. Three freaking hours of Facebook chat. The longest Facebook chat I think I ever had before was maybe three minutes.

I found this so refreshing and exhilarating that even though we said our goodbyes (“je t’embrasse” en français), I was wired and up for another hour at least.

So what’s the point of this post?

Just an acknowledgement that life never ceases to have surprises. I was planning on having a quiet early night but instead talked with somebody like I was in high school again. And that’s a good thing.

I’m not sure if I’ll even see her before I go—I know she’ll try, but, again, life happens and has a way of doing what it pleases.

But for now, I’ll take what it’s giving me. At the very least, a great new friend.

More than that? I guess we’ll find out.