As France feels farther and farther away, certain songs make me weepy and still, all I ever want to eat is bread and cheese. Sometimes I start dreaming about those three months and I end up feeling paralyzed by how much I miss it.

That said, if I'm not going to be in France, I'm glad I can be in warm, sunny Charleston -- where oyster-eating and day trips to remote islands are totally normal January activities. No winter blues here.