Prior to our leisurely walk to le Musée du Luxembourg for the Fantin-Latour exhibit, we hit the market street with two purposes: normal weekend shopping and pre-holiday shopping. After procuring part of the wine, but before hitting the épicerie, we wandered into the boucherie with hopes that it was possible to procure something resembling a …
The weekend before last’s trip to Brussels (yes, I am behind) for their version of the marché de noël featured a significant amount of wandering, the consumption of copious quantities of hardly-healthy food that still somehow was tailored to each of our dietary needs (read: the Purrito tackled the sausages while I consumed an unholy number …
Two data points do not a trend make (nor even indicate), but we seem to be turning into people who show up for book signings. Last Thursday’s signing was for Craig Carlson’s Pancakes in Paris. Under normal circumstances, I am not one to give much of a shit about pancakes, at least from a literary perspective (though …
In other news, we are now sharing our bedroom (the sole cat-free zone in the flat) with an internet-procured 10kg bag of cat food; the more reasonable 3.5kg bags helpfully found at BHV contain sufficient food for all of three or so weeks.
Unlike Florence, which was long on boobs, Venice was short on boobs and long on lions; this is hardly surprising when one considers that the Lion of Saint-Mark was the symbol of the city. It’s also an excuse for another gallery, so here we go.
I am finding that my feelings towards Venice are difficult to synthesize. We went in what was apparently the deep off-season, so while we traded the teeming masses for cold and wet weather, both the Purrito and I felt that the almost-haunted feel of the city, with the heavy fog and not-always-so-elegant state of decay …
In the processed-the-pictures-but-never-quite-got-around-to-posting-them category, I have a handful of shots from a couple of weeks back in which we thoroughly raided the petit palais, Short version: Oscar Wilde wasdisappointing, l’art de la paix was fucking amazing (they had the signed and sealed peace treaty between François I and Henry VIII, amongst other documents), and modernités belle …
Wednesday morning was a shitshow. It was all the more surreal when, arriving at a doctor’s appointment, I stood there with the receptionists, slack-jawed, as a snippet of the victory speech came on. Perhaps sensing that the hospital was grinding to a halt, whomever runs the TV system cut back to one of the fluffy “Come …
How popular can a video game show in Paris possibly be? It won’t be nearly as bad as the salon de l’agriculture. When I’m wrong, I’m very wrong. On the other hand, the lines on Sunday were perfect incentive to head back home, do a bit of grocery shopping, and then play a bit of Gears …
Fezzik In Paris 