10/30/2009

Paris, oh Paris! Arrived by 10am. Katie went to the airport to see if her luggage showed up yet, a cool one month later. (No such luck. BOO!) In the meantime, M and I walked around, staying fairly close by. Of course, I found a Chausson au Pomme. Don’t worry! Sat at a park to read when our bags got a bit heavy on our backs. It was right in front of lockes along the Seine River. Just so happened that a boat was going through. We saw the whole process from beginning to end. I felt like a kid. It reminded me of a miniature version of the Ballard Lockes.

 

Met with Katie at the station and then waited for Matt, a fellow assistant in Katie’s program. We went for a quick cup of tea and coffee then got a call to get the go-ahead to go to Boris’s house. Met up with friends of his and had dinner at a sushi place. So good! Katie taught me the fine-dining art of chopsticks. I’ve always been terrible at them. Parents, sisters, friends, boyfriends – they have all tried and failed at helping me. No longer! Well, I’m okay at it, not great or anything. Practice, practice, practice!

 

After we went to a pretty well known bar called Le Piana Vache (translation: The Mean Piano). It seemed to be the love child of Uisce, Caps, and Honeymoon. Awesome vibe. I was tired and getting better from being sick, but not quite there yet. Unfortunately. I felt bad for harshenin’ the mellow because the Frenchmen were just getting started. In Paris, bars close at around 2am, which is when the clubs open up. Say what? Yes, I know, crazy time! In search of clubs we went. However, plans weren’t working due to metro closures and such. After what I can only describe as an unintentional late night sightseeing extravaganza, we caught a cab back to Bobo’s house. Grabbed our stuff and walked to Nathan’s, who would be putting us up for the night. It was very sweet of him. I laid down and passed out. I don’t think I moved once.

 

Highlight of the Night: Henri, a friend of Bobo’s, kept uprooting foliage. I asked what was going on. Apparently, when Henri gets enough drinks in him, he likes to rip up plants. Just about the funniest thing I’ve seen.

 

French homes are ridiculously amazing. America, wtf?!

 

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