Fezzik In Paris

Two Americans, three cats, and too many places named "de Gaulle"

July is gone.

The fact that we existed during the month of June and continue to exist in the month of August demonstrates that we were extant during July as well, though there is little photographic evidence of said existence.

It’s the existential squeeze theorem, though I suppose the squeeze theorem is already existential if you subscribe to the philosophy that calculus is life. Confession: I use far less calculus in a direct professional capacity than I had expected (conceptually, however…). We won’t speak of my lingering disappointment at the abject lack of differential equations to be solved, nor will I comment on just how little MATLAB and just how much Excel are used.

July, however, is still gone.

Let us then reflect on what we accomplished:

  • We enjoyed a few days of a cat-free apartment;
  • We requested that the cats be returned to us early, owing to our unexpectedly early return;
  • We promptly regretted requesting that the cats be returned to us;
  • We wandered around La défense (subsequent to seeing Wonder Woman);
  • We hid from the heat;
  • We hid from the rain;
  • We wandered out to Pompidou at some point;
  • We got sick of hiding, but with the Purrito out of commission, my excitement was limited to becoming lost in the 15e, owing to a dead phone;
  • I drafted a blog post about getting lost in the 15e in which I compared my then-dying phone to a dying animal (“…as the last of the heat ebbs from its plastic body…”), decided that this comparison was really fucking disgusting, and abandoned the post on principle;
  • I gave up on watching the Tour de France pass by when the live tracker on their site insisted on malfunctioning for the entire day of the Tour;
  • July ended, and here we are.

Oh look, a few token pictures.

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