Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

What I didn't do in Paris:

I didn't become a famous artist, nor did I stage an awesome comeback with my band (save that for next decade!).

I didn't master the subjunctive, and words like "moelleux" and "citrouille" continue to smirk at me, daring me to try to pronounce them.

I didn't become a French chef, and the sad fact is I still don't know how to use a knife and fork properly.

I didn't write a book about being an expat in France (though I could have!).

But I did make some good friends here. I did look at a lot of things, and a lot of people, and I even painted some of them. I had a lot of experiences that I wouldn't have had if I had stayed in my cozy apartment in Oakland, and I guess that's the reason I came here in the first place.

So now I am leaving France with my five senses intact, ready to work on whatever's next. Non, je ne regrette rien... (except maybe those extra helpings of gratin dauphinois...)