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