This morning J and I were woken up by 10 French boys screaming "fout la merde!!!" I happened to already be au courant of what was going on, but suddenly hearing shouts at 7AM isn't quite the way I envision the start of my morning. You see, J's friends planned an all-day, overnight "enterrement de jeune garcon," what Americans like to call a bachelor party. They had called me last week to inform me of their plan to kidnap J and bring him to Maastricht, the Netherlands. I went to bed early the night before mais quand même; hearing there loud voices didn't exactly put me in the best of moods. However, when I saw the huge grin on J's face any resentment I was feeling just melted away. He looked so darn excited I couldn't help but smile. On the contrary, I spent the day visiting the florist, buying CD's to burn our playlists, and cleaning the apartment. Perhaps a normal girl would be angry that her significant other was getting défoncé with his pals while she was busy organizing their wedding- but I'm just glad J's has such great friends that were willing to plan something fun for him.
*Update* J just called and said they're already on their way back to Paris. Apparently they'll be drinking the night away at a friend's house and will go paint balling tomorrow. Boys will be boys-- no matter what country they're from.