Tuesday afternoon. It finally stopped raining, so I left my apartment in search of food. Stumbled upon a place called Café des Artistes. Perfect. Give me all the Parisian Writer Vibes, stat.

I didn’t have an appetite when I got here, so I was tempted to just Hemingway it and drink strawberry daiquiris all day. Then I remembered I’m actually trying to be Martha Gellhorn and decided to enjoy an actual meal instead.

I couldn’t decide so I just got a 5-cheese pizza with a French Grenache. I wanted to do a cheese platter but they didn’t have it, so I essentially settled for the five cheeses I would get on the board just melted together on top of a flatbread. It was satisfying AF, but I needed more, so I asked for the dessert menu, which I never do.

I was going to get a crepe but then I saw the brownies. O.M.G! Talk about a sacred cacao ceremony. Incroyable. I am healed from all of my emotional wounds. Wow. That was the most amazing brownie I have ever had in my life, ever. Straight up. Incroyable.

Just… *chef’s kiss*

Sometimes all you need in life is a little wine, cheese, and chocolate to boost you back to health. J’adore!

The vibes here are fabulous. I am sitting out on the terrace watching people on the streets. Jazz music is playing in the background. The art gallery on the wall makes a bold statement. This is the vibe!

And to think I was living in South Dakota where people would attack and vilify me for doing this exact same thing. Idiots. Fools. Morons. They clearly just don’t know how to enjoy life. That’s why they need to drag people like me down to their level.

Like sometimes I just think to myself… how self-obsessed do you have to be to see someone sitting out on the terrace at a French cafe, writing the day away, and think they are only there for you? Ugh.

Everyday I am grateful I left that horrible place. It’s only going to get worse now that their hatred of outsiders and general fascism has been emboldened. Good thing I got away when I did.

Crazy story: the people at the table next to me are literally talking about South Dakota right now. I am cursed. This is a curse. Apparently this guy went to the Sun Dance?! Now I’m trying to figure out if I know them. They don’t look familiar…

Still. So weird. Sometimes I love how small the world is, but other times I’m like… this world is too damn small!

They just got up to leave. Part of me is like… just let it go. The other half of me is like… go chase them down right the fuck now.

That is the craziest fucking shit ever. Consider me more spooked like a horse when a combine drives by. That is some freaky ass shit. We’re the only three people in this goddamn restaurant right now and they’re over there talking about South Dakota while I’m sitting here writing about it.

I let them go because I was too stunned to even move or speak, but I regret it. I’m just sitting here now with my jaw on the floor like

W

T

F

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That is fucking spooky. I can’t even with that shit right now. Like, wow, what was that?!?!?!?!

And here I was actually enjoying my afternoon. Now it’s like “Hello, you have stories to write. Move past your trauma and put them down on the page.”

That is the craziest shit ever. I should go chase that guy down. He took off in the direction of my apartment. I should go right now. But I am just frozen like… I can’t even believe what I just overheard.

You see how it keeps finding me? You see how I cannot escape? I’m cursed. This is a curse!

Well, I was going to stay for another glass of wine but now I’m sufficiently weirded the fuck out.

I need to escape right now.