So, I am now exactly 40 years and 1 month old. It takes a little getting used to. A sort of "oh, holy shit, I really am that old" kind of getting used to. Not bad, just, "oh" & "holy shit".
Of course, it comes with the requisite, "but what have I done with my life?" moments (answer: more than some, less than others *shrug*) and "what will I do with my life?" moments (see previous answer...) but I would have to confirm that becoming 40 was indeed a blow lessened by being taken to Paris by my most significant - indeed, affianced - other. I think all difficult moments in life could be improved by being taken to Paris (Parisians might want to go somewhere else, perhaps, but probably not...). Positive moments in life could also be made even more shiny and gilded by being taken to Paris. Paris, je t'aime indeed.
The photographic evidence is below, for your delectation.
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