Bon jour, buon giorno, good morning…I’m so confused! Having popped up from Italy to Paris for a week to visit friends old and new, I never know what’s going to come out of my mouth when I respond to a greeting.

As I write you, I’m sitting in a lovely corner boulangerie in a semi-residential neighborhood in the heart of Paris that thankfully has decent wifi. Three vans full of French police officers in full mega-SWAT team get-up have gotten their sandwiches and baguettes just ahead of me. They’re so intimidating looking that I giggle a little as they eat and brush crumbs off their uniforms and show just a touch of the “boy” inside them.

Paris is just so intensely amazing. At any given moment, you’re likely to hear at least 7 languages being spoken, often more. The other night, my three friends and I (who speak 6 languages between us) asked a couple for directions to a restaurant and finally got it square using a combination of French, Italian and English.

I love the tiny, quirky specialty shops here — like the one devoted to keys from the 18th century or the all-things-salmon shop or the calligraphy tools shop. And the HUGE, expansive buildings and public areas. Paris is the definition of magnificent!

And yet, my heart longs to get back to Italy. So after a proper Thanksgiving dinner with a woman who makes her living cooking comfort food for expat Americans here in Paris, I’ll head back to Rome…even got concert tickets to see my favorite Italian band. Look up “Negramaro,” if you have a chance.

Wishing those of you in the U.S. a delightful Thanksgiving and those of you elsewhere, the same thing: a delightful day giving thanks for all that’s good in your life.