Joyeux Anniversaire la France!
Recently, I have declared my love for Spain. And I haven't wanted my sweet France to know.
But here's the real deal, France: I adore you. Je t'adore.
I love your bold, strong coffee, your pain au chocolat, your beautiful tartes, your delicious Madeleines, and good heavens do I love your cheese. And a bottle of Orangina. Mmm.
Your castles in the Loire are breathtaking; your Mediterranean coast is mesmerizing.
Your Parisians, well...perhaps I don't love everything. Their addiction to cigarettes, their cold stares--bleh. But I do love their cafes, their twinkling tower, and their obsession with a great accessory, specifically the scarf.
The only history books I've ever bought to read for fun are the ones about your old royal regime. Oh how I love hearing stories about your ridiculous lavishness. But oh how that absurd way of living has made you the culture you are today.
More than anything, j'adore votre langage. I love everything about it: the way it rolls off the tongue--especially the "r"; I love the sweetness of the little "pttz" noise that is made when you need to show your disgust; I delight in delicious words like pamplemousse and boulangerie; and you never disappoint my excitement for the vowel and all of its various sounds that your language and its accents so confusingly throw at learners.
Yes, France, my love affair with you was never finished. Like a true Frenchman, I always keep someone waiting in the wings (Spain).
But when I stand at the bottom of that twinkling Tour Eiffel on a summer night, absolutely immersed in your beauty, there's no other culture in the world that could make me feel richer in my zest for life.
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