THE PARIS FILES---Living Abroad in September

Part 3

Please Note
This Journal Contains
Drinking and Swearing
Deep Thoughts and Emotions
Personal Opinions and Observations 

Paris 7 

Tour Eiffle

ET

Kook is writing a book where her heroine is trapped in the Eiffel T. It's a psychological thriller. A big thing for her in coming to Paris was to spend some research time at the tower. We went that one evening, but being waylayed by promiscuous Greeks arrested the procedure. So today we are to go back and we were to go to the top. I am doing this for Kook as I enjoyed the night vision but once is enough for me in general as there are just too many tourists to keep me excited. The morning is overcast and as we get into the pretty long line it starts raining. Kook is pissed about the line. We decide to do the stairs. It's easy as pie even though there are 700. This goes to the 2nd floor then you can go the rest of the way on the elevator where there is not such a line. When we got our tix to walk up there were like 20 heavy middle aged Russians in the stair line and one was there yelling and swearing. One by one the hefty group is turning around and busting back past all the younger and in shape people. Obviously they were mislead and Boris the boss is not happy about it. When we go in we have a double purse search. There are no signs and on the second one I don't unzip my purse cause I assume there is an ex ray. Knowing damn well I am not French the snotty worker dude in a suit starts yelling at me in his language. I figure it out and unzip my purse. He still yells at me as I walk away. Jeez Dude I say, sorry I wrecked your day. I am super pissed to be treated like this. Fuck face French labor worker.

It's now raining like a bitch and windy. This has been a heyday for the hawker dudes selling umbrellas and ponchos. There are peeps all over wearing and using them. I don't want to go to the top in pouring rain with no view and it's cold. I tell Kook I'll meet her at home. But she says lets just eat at the restaurant here. It has nice atmosphere and the lunch prices were only a tad bit higher than a normal cafe. The staff is very nice and we get an OK table. We  splurge on the big beers. This is Kooks last meal to pay for. All they have is Heineken but that's ok. The food is ok, no better or worse than anywhere. Ironically, they serve it in like, airplane style containers which really reduces the opinion and feeling of your meal. The place looks like a metropolitan club and your food comes in a glass dish with a Tupperware top. How stupid of them. The waiter is nice and speaks almost flawless English. He was educated at an international school in Belgium. I have met other Euro workers educated at international schools and they have all been really class acts. Kook decides she will go up another morning. This gets me out of it. As we walk down the stairs in the rain I start to make up a little song. "Eiffel Tower in the rain, Au bon pain, Au bon pain. Kook wants to come back and do it again. Totally insane, totally insane." This is a master work. Perhaps I can sell the rights to the Rodin museum and they can have it inscribed on a wall to make up for my pilfering of the garden sign. 

We come home and I need some down time. It rains all day. Kook goes around the corner to sit at a cafe and write. She is approached by some local crone who seems to think she is the Parisian fashion expert. She tells Kook that wearing purple is the sign of prostitution. Kook is wearing purple. Then she tells her some malarkey that sounds like she got stuck about 10 years ago, in what is cool on the fashion scene. She says “ I was born in Paris and I will die in Paris!” When Kook comes in the door she says; "I've just been mistaken for a French whore".

We take long naps and I make some fresh pasta with ham. The ham inside looks like spam and I am a bit grossed out. There is no hot water and I am having an anxiety attack that what if something is wrong and I'll have to make a phone call. We can't find a hot water heater in the apt. Maybe it's shared and the neighbors used it up. We watch Date Night with Steve Corelle and are winding it down. Kook says she'll go to Sacre Coure and Montmartre if it's nice tomorrow. Yeah! I am excited about this place and am putting on my scamming armor.

 View from the ET landing

 Reflections

 The Big Beers (9 Bucks!!)

From the Flat

Paris 8

Fat Bottom Girls 

 Out of Time

So there are these auto-street terlets in Paris. Like an out house only elite. You will find one---a very painful ONE--here and there at a bustling area. There is never much of a line. There is a very good reason. The whole thing is automated; and retarded. If you make one wrong move it won't let you in , or out. I thought I was trapped at the Eiffel tower. For real, in the terlet, not in Kooks book. People stand around perplexed at the thing and friendly Parisians stop to help and explain. But you are not seeing them use these things. It lets you go, then runs a hand washing system, then a dryer, then maybe lets you out, without flushing, then washes the floor. If you make a wrong move it shuts you out or runs through the whole system while you are peeing your pants outside. Kook wanted to use it today. We tried to go in together, oh nono, you can't do that. Then I hear her trying to get out, then I go and force the handle to open it. It is the soup natzi of terlets. I am not using it again. I will pee in the street in the Marais like the dude we saw this afternoon. Yep, the Marais is like Broadway in Manhattan. A very prestigious, fancy, perfect area of Paris. And the street dude was just holding out his sweater and standing on the side of the street and peeing while all the fancy Parisians walked past. Ahhh Paris, the city of Pee.

It was pretty nice though a bit breezy today. We head out to Montmartre and Sacre Coure. This is the "top" of Paris on the north side and is a very up the hill area to the top where you see the very Turkish looking Mosque. I think it's beautiful and all my pictures are crooked. Gosh Dangit! I lost my basic straightening program when the microsoft editing software went obsolete and now I cannot straighten my buildings and I am cursed, and my friend Itzick on flickr will never let it by, so I can't post half my pictures. I am going to have to put that ridiculous grid thing up on my viewfinder or I am doomed. I hope it has one! Anyway this is known as a scammy trappy area but it was not too bad today. I had to blow off 3 bracelet scamming dudes but they did not bug me and Place du Terte, with it's artists and toury shops was kinda cute. Another rude-ass Parisian worker slammed my camera into my face and said "photo outside" in the Sacre Coure; as mass was starting. Everyone had a cam but I was unfortunate enough to be by him when they started blabbing and crooning the mass. I hate the tourist parts of Paris due to the crowds and horrible workers but you have to see them. I am not going back to the Eiffel. I pretty much hate it except for the night view. Kook is going alone tomorrow and I will wander through St. Germaine or go to some Gardens where I can have peace and enjoy Paris. I am totally in love with Paris now and I am so glad I came. There are a million things to see and do and I have just scratched the surface. I love the vibe and the variety and the metro and the streets and the fashion of the true Parisians.

So back to Montmartre. This was my next fav part of Paris. It's like gritty street Paris right next to beautiful hilly old school Paris and the two mix with just the right symmetry. (spell checker please--I tried to make it work but couldn't find it) I mean there is alot of graffiti and cobblestone streets and big old buildings all in a row and fun market streets with all kinds of little fooderies and cafes and boutiques and it's all got a feel of run down old romantic Paris and they are doing alot of fixing up here and there and this is where the red-light district called Pigalle is, and the old real Moulin Rogue. It's a bit dirty but it still has that feel of history trying to hold on in all it's ugliness and character. I have been walking a fuck-ton of stairs all week but my legs didn't hurt until today after walking up and down in this steep area. Our lunch was mag.  As we scoped out cafe's I see this place with giant salad bowls that everyone is getting and they have fried potatoes that look like chips on top of the salads and I smell garlic. This is the place for me. So we go back later and it is so good. My salad has the usual ham and I get roquefort cheese and olive and the fried taters are amazing. Also we get the big beers again. When I say this I mean like 18 oz. and it costs about 9 bucks US dollars but this place had it a bit cheaper to ad to the goodness. Beautiful place and great food. My picture sucks. ;(

Then we go to the Erotica museum. I have no interest in this and it is expensive for a small museum but I go for Kook and am very glad! I have loved every museum. This had 6 little floors with everything from ancient stone penis's to modern artist displays and it was very cool. The music was jazzy and fun and there were no crowds. The art was great and I just ignored that it was weird. The main featured artist did modern comic book like pencil drawings, very detailed; all in black and white. It was amazing art of the most bizarre thing. It was a naked lady with a sort of French Betty Boop look (but realistic) and she had big boobs and the HUGEST ass ever. The ass was the star of the drawings. Now this is gross but bare with me. The other character was like a little Greek slave man about one forth of her size and in every single picture he was chained under her with his face buried in her crotch. She was doing a million different things like, working at an office, drinking at a bar, bathing at the beach, or whatever, and naked with the slave guy smothered by her giant female parts. It was so weird and fascinating. There was a beautiful book of the art with a bit of color and I know it sounds gross but I may have to go back and get it. It is the strangest and wildest thing I have seen and would be a good memory of Paris. I just don't see it on the coffee table though. Anyway they had posters for sale from past artists and I got a cool one I will probably frame.

Back we go on the Metro thorough Stalingrad. There are more than a few German names on the transport system which must have come from when they occupied Paris during the war. They beat the crap out of Paris and I am really surprised that the German names were not changed. Either way, an interesting bit of history as there is also a Franklin D. Roosevelt station! We hang out and nap and then I need a desert so off we go to the Monoprix. It's super crowded as it's after work time and unlike America everyone buys just one or 2 days of food at once. I get some regular bread so I can make Croque Monsieurs which is grilled cheese. Mine is not as good as the one I got at the cafe. I also get puddings with cream and a lemon tart. Then I get an apple to look good. Then both Steve's skype us at the same time. We can't do a conference as we do not have that download on out computer. We call Sadak back and Lake (my son) comes on and looks pissed but he is just sick. He got in his car and drove home so Steve will have to call and excuse him. He has no problem with this. This is why I love him. Also now that we know the apt. has a loft and a couch he is going to check if he can get an earlier ticket cause he actually had 2 days off before he comes but I thought there would be no room. It will probably cost too much but it's worth checking. I am so full as I ate more paella also and have had a bunch of wine but I'm not buzzed 'cause I ate so much. I wonder if I will dream about giant ass slave boy oral sex? Sorry but that was weirdly obsessive. Don't worry though, it did not turn us on and cause us to have lesbian sex.

 Sacre Coure

 Place Du Tertre

 This is it

 In Montmartre

 Featured Artist

 Moi

Coolness

Paris 9

Finding Falafal King

Today Kook took off early to go to the ET again. She HAD to get to the top. I don't give a shit and never want to go there again. She ended up climbing the steps again as the line was even longer in the morning! Yuck. I was gonna shop or go to a museum but I took my time enjoying the apartment and jamming on my i-pod and being able to pee whenever I wanted. I kid you not I went 6 times before noon. I need a bladder replacement. Kook got back and we walked around and went to lunch at the Falafal place. Really nice people and great platters of food and a good ethnic beer. But we should have split a platter. The schwarma and falafal were fantastic but alot of other stuff came and we left half. How dumb of us. Then we got lost in the Marais for awhile but I liked it because it is like winding through a different world of people and shops and buildings and cobblestones molded with time and class and culture. 

 It has been looking like rain all day but hasn't, so we decide to head to Luxembourg gardens, one of the last things on the check list! It's quite deserted which I love, and there are pear orchards and men playing bocce ball and a big group of bee keepers in their bee keeping outfits which confused us for a moment. This palace and its gardens were commissioned by Marie de Medici who was the widow of Henry IV. She was Italian so the fabulous Fontaine Medici and the palace, which now houses the French senate, are built in that style. The Medici fountain is currently my single most favorite eye candy in Paris. Gorgeous statues surrounded by an arch type backing sprout small fountains and steps into a lovely small canal. Surrounded by greenery and shaded pathways we took some great pics and admired the peace on a not too busy day. It smells fabulous to walk through the gardens still with perfect late summer blooms.

We head home and I want to pick up a sammy for later as I'm sick of meat and cheese. Walking out of the Bastille is my ideal item waiting in a tiny little case with a friendly clerk who is super happy to speak English even when I am trying to speak French. We are deciding what to do for the last day. Now that Kook has "been to the top" so to speak she is happy as a clam. I have not wandered St. Germaine yet and speak my desires. She is in. Yee haw! Then we will go back to the book sellers on the Seine and get what we passed up the other day. It is supposed to rain on and off for my days alone. I have loved the museums so I can always do that if it's wet. Otherwise Paris has many more secrets and lots of shopping for me to partake in. I know just how to get to the H&M........Kook has got the Hobbit on again. We lost TV ability on the first day so I hope my computer will stream me some Trailer Park Boys in France. If it did on the Greek Islands, I think I got a pretty good chance.

 Falafal King

 Falafal Queen

 Mona in the Marais

 Luxenbourg Gardens

 Fontaine de Medici

 Garden Kooks

THE PARIS FILES---Living abroad in September
Part 2

Please Note:
This journal contains
Drinking and Swearing
Deep Thoughts and Emotions
Personal Opinions and Observations

 Louvre Queue

Paris 4

Scam Bam Thank You Ma'am

When the Levee breaks, mama you got to go. In this case the levee is the heat and yeah, it be raining. So we finally go to a garden because I want  some dank sky for background. In this case it is Tullieres, the Louvre gardens. We pack the umbrellas and head to the nearest bakery where we have a small quiche. Off to the Bastille with our trusty Navigo metro passes which have been the best purchase of the trip. We are going to re-load Kook's even though it will only be for 5 days.

The gardens are not too busy and I am getting some killer shots. The Louvre building is looking pretty awesome too. The only catch is I have to take my pics all with the butts of the statues cause the sun is behind me. Lets call it creative angles. Then it starts raining. Which is cool cause everyone whips out the brellas and of course there are 20 ethnic displacements on the Louvre square to sell umbrellas. I myself am approached by a girl from Bosnia who has come there to "help handicapped children and would I sign the petition and make a donation" She speaks educated English and is dressed well and I say OK and still do not know if she was scamming. I give her 5. The little waif at her side who has no clue about English or how to do what ever they are doing, grabs another 5 out of my hand as it slips a bit. She puts it under her arm and says it's hers in some kind of mutant grunts. I get pissed and grab it back and she is spitting. As they walk away she puts a shark tooth smile on and says "2lkjefosjej, soldkfowener 5543#$%^^^!!!" to me. Which probably translates to have a nice day American whore. Her friend needs to train her a bit better if she is going to collect for the children.

The rain starts anew and Kook decides we need to join the Louvre queue cause what else are we gonna do? Sure. We meet a guy from San Fran in line who has been traveling Europe for the last 2 months. I must know what he liked the best. It's Norway he says. Most beautiful scenery ever. Also so expensive he can't even tell us. Wow, I thought Paris was expensive. This creates a travel dilemma. Shuffle shuffle through the rain into the ridiculous glass modern pyramid Louvre entrance which totally trashes the old school beauty of the square and has a ridiculous ugly gigantic statue in it of a fully shrouded figure with rope tied around it. WTF???  Down to stand in another line to buy tickets and try to figure out what to do. End up in the sculptures which I am crazy about as they are the alabaster kind and not the Rodin clay kind. I feel bad taking so many pics and holding Kook back. Move through a few oriental artifact stuff and get to some magnificent halls with frescoes and more sculptures and urns and such. Gorgeous. Then we see the Sphinx which I'm sure is a fake as it's small but 90 zillion peeps are taking pics. I'll have to look it up. We avoid the Mona cause who gives a fuck and I heard they put a case around it and she's ugly (I warned you about personal opinions). Instead, the Venus de Milo. Which of course thrills me as I just got back from Milos and stayed in the house where she was hidden. She has huge feet and a bunch of chips on her skin but I love her anyway. Then we go through Michelangelo sculptures and I want to look forever but Kook is cruising. Then we start to get hungry and start hunting for food and can't find any and our feet are hurting cause we have our big bags today and then we are lost and can't get out and are more starving and walking in circles and I have to just quick snap all these pics of cool rooms and the paintings are blowing my mind but we can't stop and we can't get out and my stomach is screaming and I have no doubt I had to pee. Finally a guard says go that way; and we are free. We can't go back because we didn't get the museum pass as it did not fit our itinerary. Wander wander and end up in one of the many little China towns. I have delish soup and salad and an entree where there is skin on the chicken and mostly dark meat and that is gross. Oh well. Kook has a beer that cost 9 dollars and it's not even a Panic show.

Then I want to walk up to the Opera building. It's quite ornate and that neighborhood is bustling. I like the Marais way better. We don't go in cause it's 10 bucks each. Upon searching for the metro a middle aged hefty woman bends down at a cross walk, directly in front of Kook and picks up a shiny gold ring. I do not see this happening but apparently she is ooooing and making it clear that she has found a treasure in the street. Kook says to me wow, the lady in front of me has just had a Lord of the Rings moment! The lady jumps on this and turns to Kook and exclaims she is SO lucky but alas it doesn't fit her. Sliding it on to Kooks hand she says " look it is for you!" It's huge but Kook goes for it and is jumping up and down and kissing and hugging the lady. By this time I am leaning on the metro wall and watching Kook dig in her wallet for a few euros as the nice lady needs a coffee and pastry for finding and giving her that ring. I never heard that one before. Kook decides it's ok to pay for the ingenuity.

Then we just go to the Monoprix grocery again. We have hors d'oeuvres stuff for dinner. I made bread with mascarpone gorgonzola and French snausage and slices of fig. Yum. Can't member if I wrote that or not. We finish a movie and Skype Steve Sadak. ZZZZZZZZZZZ no school children echoing through the courtyard like a pack of wild hyenas in the morning. I sleep great. 

 Tulliers

 True Paris

 Diana

 So Amazing

 Me (Marie) and Kook

 China Town Lunch

Scamlandia

Paris 5

St. Martin and Shakespeare

 Window Shopping

Well, today we had a slight bust in the morning. I'm so glad I tried this with Kook and not Steven and Barb and embarrassed myself. They are coming next and I want to be a good hostess. I had read that to walk along Canal St. Martin was a really fun and adventurous thing to do and that the hipsters hung there at hipster places. I suppose if a basketball demo and a boulevard park full of a clochard (homeless gypsy camp) is trendy; well then we scored. It was Sat. and weirdly enough most of the stores were closed. I think this would have made a difference. We went in one cool thrift store and Kook got scarves for everyone as they were only 3 euros. I had one picked. A strange silk kelly green flowers one that no one would like but me. No one else was there and it disappeared. When I asked the groovy English speaking clerk she said "OH I just got that for myself just now! When I looked at it yesterday I almost got it and now I did" WTF? Why does my energy make everyone do exactly what I am doing? Like arrive at a deserted hiking trail at the exact time I want to start hiking or 10 cars going through the drive through at exactly the same moment as I decide at a really weird time? How does this happen? I hate people. Not really, but I want to do my thing. Then we spent an hr. looking for a place to eat that I read about and never found it. So we end up at a French cafe as usual and Kook has a pretty good salad and I have a really good omlette and this is par for the course. The reason we go out to Italian and Mexican and Greek places at home is cause they have good food. The reason we don't go out to French restaurants at home is cause they don't. Snails and bad steak do not a happy camper make.

After this we hop back on the metro and go home to regroup. Or maybe we just wanted to climb 95 stairs. I don't remember. We are going to go to Shakespeare and Company; a famous bookstore for many years here that has all the books in English. It's Saturday. And the book store is smack dab in the center of ground zero Paris. Every tourist and their ethnic cousin has just arrived in Paris. Goody! There is a line to go in the store. It's cool but tiny with not many used books and the one Alex takes me to in Portland blows it away; but hey, it has history. There is a cool pin up board where all these people leave notes and pics etc. every day and it was fun to take pics of. Outside is a table with random books for 1 Euros. I am in Paris and so I look and find 2 pretty cool ones for Alex and even if she doesn't like them they came from Paris. We go out and into the tourist streets. You know with ethnic hawkers and 20 stores with all the same stuff and Kooks says, I remember this! This is my favorite part of Paris. OK dude. To each his own. Ironically I buy a coffee mug and a keychain and start craving the ethnic food because of course it's not Parisian.

On the way home we stop at a different MonoPrix (grocery store) for some beer and dinner stuff. I get risotto in a box and a giant jar of spiced olives and a six pack of Pellforth Brune and some amazingly cheap fresh pasta with jamon. Now there's a new concept in Paris. Jamon. So we get home and I try to cook the risotto in the oven-wave gadget here. It is in there forever and finally gets a little hot. But the oven doesn't turn off and I freak the fuck out but it's just the fan which calms down soon. This is the best risotto I ever had in my life. It has mushrooms and real cream. The olives are spicy and good and Kook makes me some crisp breads and cheese. This is much better than a 60 buck meal. Then we skype Steve Sadak and it's 90 million degrees at home and he is in the cave office. He is amused by our scam stories. Then I try to journal and continue to be a day behind. Maybe if I walk backwards down 95 steps 6 times I will be able to journal today tonight as well as yesterday which this is. Another glass of wine may help. I sleep great again and the bed is really comfortable. I am plagued by what I am going to do about the sheets when S and B come. There is no dryer in the apt. and when I went past the laundry mat today it had the laundry priced in Kilos!!!  God help me. This is bothering me on a daily basis. I am using the same towel for 2 weeks so they will have clean ones. The next day of the journal, will be hot off the press in a bit so if you read that first you will have to go back 95 stairs and not collect $200. If you don't get that joke you had a deprived childhood or your brain is on Boardwalk. If you did not get that hint go have a big mac and stop reading about Paris. Also go directly to jail and do not collect $200 this time either.

 St. Martin riches

 Booksellers

 Pin Board at Shakespeare and Company

 Ground Zero Tourism

Neighborhood Grocers

Paris 6

Markets Morrison and Moroccan 

 Gorgeous Pere LaChaise Cemetary

I am eating Paella at midnight and there is something in it that looks like it may be a sardine. They don't put that in Paella do they? Hopefully it is a random piece of chicken. I better finish the wine. I have to get up early at Kooks order as we are going back the the Eiffel Tower and are going up this time. It's true we should go early but I don't wanna get up. Switching time zones just keeps me up later. There is a squid ring in my Paella also but I am just ignoring it. It is way better than any I had in Spain. We got it at the Bastille market today. An unexpected surprise adventure. We were heading to the Metro and it was all over when the first stall had 5 and 10 Euro clothing racks and we saw the food. What a great great market. We re-routed our morning. We were going to Pere Lachaise Cemetary, the one with Jim Morrison's grave because they predicted some rain. But it was clear so why not do the market since pics would not be ideal anyway. We stroll and eat and enjoy and buy. We have a super fresh chocolate croissant. I get some little fried Lebanese tidbits. We have some awesome fried turkish veggie and chicken uhhhhhh......balls? There are musicians and one is an American dude playing the blues with one of those old steel guitars and he rules. I walk past after listening and say "kick ass" in his ear. There are lots of scarves for 5 euros and I am gonna go back and get some. Also Kook gets a cool silky jacket thing and I'm gonna get me one'a those too. And I will bring Steve back to get some paella. He just skyped us and threw off my rhythm. Can you believe that we just had instant visual chats with  Steve and Steve (our BF's) across the ocean for free? Technology is good. The market has mostly locals but all the vendors speak English so it's very easy and comfortable. One of the best things we've found in Paris so far. Hurry up next Sunday! Oh yeah, I got two cool rings for 5 euros. They may turn my finger green but it's worth a try. We have to go home now. I have to pee. I know I keep writing that but it's taking over my life. I have heard that menopause shifts your insides and of course it's hitting me in the soft spot. That would be the bladder. We will not mention the other fun things happening right now. Don't even worry about the fact that I look truly pregnant in all todays pictures or that I have to pee between graves in the middle of Pere Lachaise cemetary. Don't even give it a second thought.

So we come home to drop off the Paella and head to Pere Lachaise. This metro is a bit to the east and has a different ethnic feel than the typical Parisian fare. In fact when we get off at the stop there is a brown skinned man selling grilled ears of corn that he has pegged to a shopping cart. Weird, but reminiscent of a state fair. Do they have those in Lebenon? Anyway, the cemetery is free and I don't care so much about Mr. Mojo risin's grave cause I saw it and it looked dumb and I told Kook but she didn't believe me. This is the coolest cemetery in the world. I bet it's close anyway. It is huge and gorgeous and old and ornate with lots of house style crypts and beautiful statues and old grey stone and giant trees starting to turn color. The clouds have come and the light is filtered and there are old patches of crunchy leaves from last season and cobblestones and little paths leading all through the tombs and it is amazing. The roads shift and turn and each section has a sign that says what batillion it is. That is not the term but it's some army word that I find amusing in a cemetery. I take 8 zillion pictures because it is so amazing. The light and the trees turning and all the secret past winding in and out of the stone effigys. Of course I must sneak up a little lane and pee. I actually take 200 pics. I am taking Steve here because in 2 weeks the trees will really be turning and I will take so many more pics. I love cemeteries as they have such a vibe and for me it is soothingly mysterious as I do not fret or see ghosts. You can do so much art with the pics. We find Jims grave and like I told Kook it is nothing; but has dead flowers and old candles. She see's the light. I really could spend many hours here as there are nooks and crannies that go forever. As we head out Kook says this is my favorite place in Paris! Hooray it's mine too. It is downright fabulous. 

We have now made an embarrassing plan but I need a break from French food, or the lack there of. We are going back to the tourist area by St. Michael to have late lunch at the Moroccan place. When I was in Amsterdam the Liedesplein was an area like this and we ate there all the time and had great food. Well, this ain't Amsterdam. The dinner was not that good. There was an awesome entree pie thing with minced chicken and spices that was fantastic. The rest was bland and the Moroccan olives came out of a Spanish jar, I'm quite sure. Oh well. No better or worse than the rest.  We then stroll along the Seine and past the famous book seller stalls which you could say are touristy or you can enjoy them for what they are, memories of Paris old and new. I really liked it and there is art and old books and lots of postcards which I want for my journal. There are true old post card for 1 euro each (I wish the computer had a euro key!) and I get some and will go back and look for some more as I also wanted a few calendars. I have to pee cause we had a beer at dinner but I am getting used to living in pain for 50% of my trip. Kook wants to walk home as its so pleasant out. I will try. We discover some new things along the way. The clouds are perfect when we hit Hotel de Ville which I've been seeing written about but hadn't seen yet. It is so so beautiful and the square with fountains is full of life and there is music playing somewhere down the way . This is busy beautiful perfect Paris and everyone seems to come out and celebrate on Sunday nights. I am so happy to experience this. I think I understand it now. My bladder barely makes it home but I do and we settle in on the computers and I am having Paella and wine and journaling. My Steve calls and is getting ready to watch the Packers. Oh God please do not ever make me leave this life here for that life back there.

 Bastille Market

 Blues at the Bastille

 Pere LaChaise Cemetary

Wanderland

 Ghost Busters

 Central Landing Spot

 Hotel DeVille 

THE PARIS FILES---Living abroad in September
Part 1

Please Note:
This journal contains
Drinking and Swearing
Deep Thoughts and Emotions
Personal Opinions and Observations
 

 The Louvre Courtyard

Beginning with the End

Well, Voila, I have done it. I have lived abroad. Paris in September. That is a start anyway, and a fine one at that. I never would have picked Paris, in fact she picked me; and I must thank her. You see, Paris was never on my list; but somehow she wrote herself into my personal itinerary and called all my friends on to the pages. Yes, we wrote our Parisian novella one month in 2013. We wrote with class and a fine performance. We wrote a Broadway hit, in France. Yes, Paris did me in. She wooed me and led me down her cobblestone paths and seduced me with her perfume. And I am all the more worldly for her seduction. I have fallen.

I have wrapped my neck with her scarves and ripped into her bread with my teeth. I have mastered her Metro and absorbed her art. I have gazed upon her fountains and into her alleys. I've plundered her markets and rummaged her boutiques; spent midday's in her red cafes and evenings listening to her airs through my 6^th floor flat. I have made her acquaintance and surrendered to her charms. 

 Upon riding into the city on the train for the first time, a lone woman sang to us “Those were the days my Friends” in French. Yes, I believe she was correct. For this is my beginning and not a finer place to give life to my desires. Paris taught me find myself again, while I looking to know her. She accepted me, and I in turn, became whoever I wanted to be. I was free in another world to find what was lost. Lost in others, lost in space, lost to my own tortured thoughts. Paris swept that away and cleared a space for me. For me.

Long ago it seems, my fine companion Lindee and I chased a band around the country. Yes we followed the music, but for me it was the adventure, the experience, the freedom. When we were home we danced in the kitchen. And in between we sat on the porch and smoked, and counted the days to the next departure. You see, despite our families, and responsibilities, and pocketbooks, we would do whatever it took to get to the show. What I have really come to learn does not have anything to do with Paris at all. Something has come to light of it's own calling. Coming home this time is finally showing me what I could never quite see before. Home is not where my heart is. Home, is where my heart is leading me. And I will do whatever it takes, to get to the next train.

 Le Marais

Paris 1

A La Neighborhood

Crawling out of a 2 day jet lag I awaken to my beautiful apartment and neighborhood in Paris and I am more than thankful I have a month of life ahead of me. Last night as we lay on our comfy couch, with the cool breeze and the Parisian street noises drifting in through our 6th floor windows, I said to Kook (my best friend), I do not feel one tiny bit of anxiety. Nothing. I feel completely at peace and relaxed. I do not seriously think I can remember the last time I felt this. It's because I am living how I want to live right now; I told Kook. It's because this is the life that I desire to create. This is how I want to carry on. Living or experiencing the world in ways different than my own. To do this, to be able to be in a place, any place, of my desires is washing me in peace. Wow. Can it be that simple.

The day before I left and the day of travel were a different story. I was sick with deep seated worry as I packed and organized the life I left behind. I was physically ill with worry even though I had it all together. I was nervous inside about all of it. Leaving, going, forgetting something, getting there. The Colorado Springs airport was deserted. There was not a single other human in security. We talked out loud to all the workers at once. Who ever heard of such a thing. We camped by the bar and Kook bought us a beer while we did some final earthly communications. And then our plane was delayed. And delayed. And delayed. We arrived in Chicago with 20 minutes until our plane took off and me sick with dread. I ran down the tarmac and the moving walkways until I could no longer run with the extra 20 lbs. from my backpack. I was speedwalking as I turned the corner into the deserted gate, looking like a frantic maniac. The gate check lady gave me a dirty look and said: here comes 37B; get over here I'm shutting the gate! She didn't even want to wait for Kook, but the pink sweater turned the corner with .5 seconds to spare. We made it. The stewardesses told me to just relax and gave me a glass of water and said welcome to your flight to Paris! It was 90 million degrees and I said to the couple behind me, is it hot in here or just me!? They shook there heads because they were about to pass out. Maybe it was better I didn't have to sit there for the half hr. anyway!  I know my luggage had never made it, so now I was worrying about that crap. Ironically the seat was very comfortable and I hardly had to lean it back. We did not get free wine and beer. It said it was Lufthansa but since it was operated by United we got their rules and food. Buzz kill. The movie system sucked too but I managed a pretty good film about some young terrorists trying to bust crooked pharmecutical (why the fuck does this puter not have a spell checker!) companies. It had Eric from True Blood as a bearded hippie. We had two semi crappy meals but I didn't care. We slept only one hour each.

When we got to Paris we breezed through customs and went to the luggage just for the hell of it. Kook hadn't checked any. She fit 10 days of clothes in a tiny carry on. Get the fuck out of here!!! Everyone got their luggage off of our huge plane and was gone. I was checking where to go for the land of the lost and Kook says, hey is that it? And all alone, after the party is over; my lovely paisley suitcase is dropping onto the carousal. Ahhhh, crystal fate I love you. I have perfect directions to the train so off we go and also we will get our unlimited Navigo passes for the metro, as that was the best deal and I made us a little picture that you needed before we left. Soon we are cabbing to the apartment on Rue Castex and arrive with time to spare. That was a trip. And I'm done. Our escort,The lovely and French Sabine with painted on eyebrows takes us to our Parisian castle. It is it is!!!  It's better than the pics and even has a loft with an extra bed! AND, we climb the 95 stairs quicker then her. That's right, 95. I checked. I like it. We will get some good exercise. We have wonderful windows and beautiful artwork and a bunch of old Parisian books and a little kitchen table I'm typing at, and a modern bathroom. We have a courtyard and French rooftops with cool chimneys out the windows. We kept hearing an alarm bell going off and wondered what it was. Well, I think it was a test because today we discovered a grade school is down in the courtyard and the bell is going off at 8:30 with nine million kids out there talking and principals announcing and I think it's the first day of school. It's loud but we don't mind as we have had our own kid days and it's quiet at night. They just got done with school and it's 5pm now! Long lunch break; but that would suck!!! Now though, I can just the hear the British style ambulance sirens in the background.

Yesterday we made ourselves stay up. We walked our awesome neighborhood, The Marais, near the Bastille. It's busy with lots of traffic but somehow it's mellow and relaxed. Everyone is dressed super stylish but not fancy and everyone is happy and chill and shopping and eating. There are so many little bakerys and fruit stores and bistros and wine shops. We finally choose pizza and it rocks and we save the leftovers for brekkie. We buy wine and bread and coffee. We go to the famous Place de Voges. It was the first square of Paris and it is lovely with a numerous peeps lounging on the grass and a bunch of old buildings encircling it where rich Parisians live now, and there are art galleries under arched walkways encircling it. Nothing at all is printed in English. This city is not going to cater to it's zillion yearly tourists. We are OK though. We can do a bit of French. It reminds me of Manhattan crossed with Milan and that is a really good thing.

We pass out at about 9 and both wake up for a couple of hrs. in the middle of the night. We were spose to do the Eiffel Tower this morning but sleep too late. I have a bad jet lag headache and am nauseous. ( don't know how to spell that). So we walk again and go along the Seine and end up at Notre Dame. It's huge inside and my new cam does really well in the low light and there are gorgeous statues and high arches and stained glass and tons of little candles. I have to pee for about 3 hrs straight but I make it. We also walk Isle St. Louis, which is recommended in all the books but it's really just one big touristy street. Cool or no? We finally settle into a Thai place and have a good meal. Small portions but well done. Kook loved her beef salad. We head home to rest but end up spending at least an hr. in the giant, supermarket combined with department store called Monoprix. We buy some fun food for snacks and dinners and Kook has to get a curling iron cause she brought her US one and did not listen when I told her it would set the apartment on fire like Alex (my daughter) did with hers in London. Anyway, we had fun in the store and our Steve's would never have let us do that for so long! Now Kook wants to hit the ET for an evening adventure. Fine with me. It will be better pics. Now I gotta go lay me down.

 Place de Voges

 Street Scenery

 Notre Dame of course

Sunny day in Paris

Paris 2

Oh Those Crazy Greek Boys

So off we go for an evening of Eiffel excitement. The Paris metro is so bomb. Easy and quick. We try to take the RER train but it's closed for work so we just re-route. You can look at the maps and figure out your connections very easily. You just have to know that the destination listed for each line is a final stop and go in that direction. Some are new and air conditioned and some are super hot. It has not been as crowded as the London system. I am not thrilled with a very plain sky for the Eiffle but I can photo it lit up. It is very crowded as everyone likes to sit on the Champs du Mars grounds and picnic and kiss and watch the sparkles at the top of the hour. As soon as we sit a guy asks me for a light, and decides that 2 American ladies alone are his destiny. He is from Greece living in Paris and has a friend that doesn't talk English. He tells us how his heart longs for love and that no French ladies will talk to him. He feels us in his heart. We are special! He will buy us some beer and wine from the vendors. Then Kook gives him a cheeba chew (sorta like a pot brownie) and all goes awry. He and his friend want phone photos with us. Of course there must be kissing for the photos. The other guy is calling me Marilyn Monroe and says, Marilyn, you must open your lips when you kiss. Don't worry; I like you for everything! I like you for fun and friend and sex! He is 27 and up to my shoulder. I tell Kook it's time to go. She is drunk from free seduction beer. We have to go into the dark park behind the tower cause we can't find a bathroom. It's so dark we are holding hands and do a double whammy trip over a low slung chain. Kook sprawls on the ground and I gauge a cut down my shin. I am trying to pull her up by her purse and we are laughing and swearing. We are of course, Laverne and Shirley. Then we go pee in the bushes. We ride the metro home at midnight with a bunch of youngsters and a chick has a crazy rabbit mask. I get a blurry freaky picture of her. Then we get home and are starving and eat stinky French cheese and prosciutto on a baguette. Paris blows in through the windows.

We have a date to meet our friend Gloria's French friend for lunch. First we walk to 3 thrift stores that Kook has looked up. They have mostly winter stuff and are not that great. There is a really cool one I'll take Steve and Barb to(my friends who are coming to stay next) as it seems transvestite geared and I get some cool pictures in it of naked lady posters and boots. The area by this is very cool also. The street Ville Rue de Temple. I'm not feeling so good per usual on an over seas trip as my system has backed up. I need to skip lunch and rest at the apt. I find a really good multi grain bread baguette sammy on the way home and get it for later. I love that sandwiches are all over the place in France and Spain. Kook meets the lady named Kathy and has fun. I take care of things at home and feel better. After a nap we head out again.

We go to Jardin du Plantes near the Latin Quarter and it has some great buildings and long treed walkways that looks like central park. There is a zoo but it's too expensive to go in . The sprinklers are going and everyone is running in them but I can't cause I have the cam to protect. It's pretty hot. We walk towards the Latin quarter and find my favorite part of Paris so far. It's a great cobblestone street called Rue Moufftarde and it has vendors and market stalls and little stores and cafes and a little kid on an accordion who I pay for a photo. It has an amazing old french vibe and I wish I know how to order stuff at the stores. Damned if I know what a kilo and shit is. We eat at a true Paris cafe and Kook gets roasted chicken and killer fries and I have a huge salad with what turns out to be scalloped taters in a croque. It was a croque indeed, but how would I know. I was afraid to order a tough steak after the south of France. But the place is cute and the waitress nice and the creme brulee nicer!!! We find the Gobelins metro (cool name or what) and get home at 9. Then Steve and I video skype and he is very happy as he does not have to type anything to me. 

 Tourist Tower

 Thrifty

 Rue Moufftard

 Busker

 

 Two Kooks

Paris 3 

Signs Salads and Steaks

 

Well I just lost 20 min of typing and heart felt issue conveyance and I'm going to go kill someone. I guess that's what the microsoft word crappola pulled on me. I am livid livid livid. It ate my doc. Like a gargoyle at Notre Dame and I haven't even been up there to see them yet. I hate this net book. I deserve a Mac due to the fact that soon I will be a famous travel writer. Now I have to pee for the 18th time today and maybe I will take a nap at 8 at night cause I am so pissed and my back hurts and I just had 2 glasses of wine while I typed my brilliant memoirs that just got thrown into the cyber wild blue yonder.

Je suis ici mainteneau. That means I am here now. Kook did good and heated the chicken and taters she got at the street vendor by pushing random buttons on the oven-wave or whatever it is. I had some taters but truthfully the chicken was not as good as Costco's. Then I made my own little tidbits of baguette with gorgonzola mascarpone, French sausage, and sliced figs. Wonderful.  We are watching a movie on the computer that we found here called Suspect O. It seems creepy good.

Now, I must revert to yesterday's news. It was hot as fuck. I mean not hot for some countries or for some summer days but 91 is a killer for a hormonal middle aged over sensitive anxiety prone world traveler. The street was hot, the metro was hot, the cafe was hot and the museum was hot. What museum you ask? Well, the beauteous and delightful Rodin Museum avec gardens I tell you. Truly a splendid place to spend a morning of meandering the park like grounds and the old hotel where Rodin once lived that was converted to the small museum and not updated with air conditioning. So what; it was cool. The nicely shaded grounds had some strange woman singing on speakers and when I was standing alone I heard a giant breath behind me and thought it was a ghost but it was the recording coming out of the trees.  Also they had a bathroom and I got to pee 2 times which made my visit ever so much more pleasant. There were beautiful tree lined park grounds with statues that look like they are punched out of clay and somehow give a feeling of true form and emotion. It's not my fav but there was a Gates of Hell Thing that brought to mind Dante's Inferno and was quite awesome. The pics I took did not relate the magnitude of the expression. Before entering the museum I found a misplaced sign in the gutter that said Pelouse Interdite which essentially means Keep off the Grass and has so much meaning these days. I then misplaced the sign into my purse. I had a towel for my camera that I wrapped around it. I went through the museum with the fear of being busted with a metal detector or some guard; but I made it. And now yours truly, the sign stealer, has an authentic French sign from the gardens of Rodin in Paris. Damn I'm good. After the delightful museum which included some trippy mirrors and chandeliers that created cool smoky pictures, we are hungry Hippos. Our breakfast was a stale cheese pretzel from a rather prestigious bakery that I have now eschewed with a firm hand.

We meander and settle on a sidewalk cafe and get excellent salads. Mine is the best thing I've had here so far. It has french bacon which is really thick prosciutto, and a little tab of fried goat cheese and good greens and tomatoes and eggs. Perfect light dressing which the French just put on and don't give you a choice. Lucky I like vinaigrette. While looking at the map after lunch we meet a delightful gentleman and his wife from Iran! He is a professor and speaks perfect English and is nothing like I would imagine an Iranian. We compare tourist notes and plane prices. We talk a bit of politics and agree that people are nice and governments suck. It is very refreshing. Kook and I find the Metro and head home for afternoon heat siesta.

After a sweaty nap we fix up to hit the streets for Musee D'Orsay. It's open late tonight so it's the perfect air conditioned adventure and some book as well as the net lied and said it was free on Thurs nights. Well it was reduced at least and we truly enjoyed it. The sign said no cameras but I just avoided pics of the pics and took some of other cool things. You see, I'm sure they would get in trouble if you took a picture of Van Gogh's self portrait and he arose from the grave to sue them for i-phone copywrite photo scam. I mean really. There were lots of gorgeous alabaster sculptures and paintings by the masters and a big clock as the museum is an an old train station. When we are done we are hungry for a late dinner and find a little bar called Le Drop. We split a steak and fries. The steak was a basic cut but was med rare and the best I've had in France. God bless the French for knowing how to make crispy french fries. Someone needs to tell them to give the Greeks a lesson. I also get one of my fav French beers, Pellforth Brune and it's awesome. I had it in the Dordogne. The waiter is the owner and a dude at the bar tells us he is the “boss” We can't understand him because he has a thick accent. Finally he says—The Boss! Bruce Springsteen. Ohhhhh. I get it! Then we head home and eat more shit and hate ourselves in the morning. This was the hottest day and the night does not cool off much. We have climbed 95 stairs 5 times though so we are gettin our groove on and we moan in pain and stiffness.  Also we are climbing the stairs in the metro. We find out that Sortie 6 (sortie is exit) is the best, and right onto Ave. Henri IV and it's beautiful old trees which is the quickest to the apartment. This street looks just like London near Paddington station. Despite my friend Steven thinking he is the Parisian Emperor who knows that Cafe Francais is on the corner outside the metro, he will be challenged by the Bastille exit system when he gets here; I guar-an-teee!

 The Flat

 Grounds at Rodin Museum

 Me and Kook at Rodin

 Fabby French Salad

Musee D'Orsay

 

Le Drop Toilette