In the things-that-make-you-feel-somewhat-old category, we can place twenty-year-anniversaries-of-events-that-occurred-while-you-were-in-high-school. I am referring, of course, to the twenty-year anniversary of Diana’s death, which occurred on Thursday. We happened to be wandering that particular evening, so I have photographic evidence.
We’re back. (I’d start with the lyrics from Without Me, but at some point the album whence it came turned 16 years old. Holy shit.) In truth, we have been back for four days at this point, but I haven’t been in the mood to write and we have been a touch distracted; upon opening the …
It was with a not-entirely-unexpected degree of heavy-heartedness that we shut the door last night; it was the final lesson with our tutor of the last few months. While he’ll be in Paris for a little while longer before departing to finish his PhD, our own imminent departure mandated a bit of an early goodbye. It …
The painters sent to repair the damage incurred during the Great Water Leak of August 2015 did not perform as expected; while they were supposed to have isolated the rooms being painted with plastic and tape, they did not. Nor did they move anything whatsoever back into place, clean up after themselves, or refrain from …
The water leak of nearly three years ago finally caught up with us, so we spent nearly the entirety of what should have been a lazy three day weekend for Victoire 1945 packing the cats up and shuffling the contents of our apartment around so as to make way for the repair work to be …
Strictly speaking, it’s not inaction that has resulted in the current lull in our extracurricular activities; the weekend before last, we dressed up and marched out of the apartment, dutifully entered the line at Fondation Louis Vuitton approximately 25 minutes before our designated entry time, and held out for the twenty or so minutes it …
Walking through the oppressive, heavy fog in La défense this morning (which, unsurprisingly, does not photograph particularly well), I found myself giving in to a creeping feeling of sadness; sadness that the very welcome period of rest was over, sadness that my stint of lazy days with the Purrito was now very much at an …
For reasons unknown to us beyond “well, why the hell not?”, we decided to go for a mostly-French-style Christmas eve feast, albeit with a few modifications (said modifications consisted of omitting two courses [oysters and St. Jacques] and moving the beginning of the festivities to 1700, as the whole eat-from-midnight-to-0600 thing is not at all compatible with …
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 …
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 