day six

adam and I woke up late today. jill rose early and had gone to the store and bought eggies to make a scramble with our scallions and some chevre..... i got up and wrote while she cooked....it was tricky with the oniony air, bu nice to relax into the day. All we had on the plans were to visit the canal st. martin (the amelie canal) we didnt leave the apartement until two! we also got a little turned around finding the canal...but we did. it was very green and in a semi shady neighborhood....after we found a little bou ate the goods, and headed back up to the pigalle station so I could meet up with kris...and i was a little nervous! we bought falaffels from a dumpy shop near the pigalle station...pretty grody. and all of the sudden my stomach sucked, and i jotted alone back up to the apt. to see if i really was getting my stupid period. yes dear reader, im sharing my schedule with you. And i did. RAD TIMING! sorted myself out ran back down to pigalle while jill and adam did laundry. While waiting for kris, some dude asked me if i was spanish and if I'd want to have a coke with him, and that it would only take five minutes. I said no. Kris finally came, we hiked back up again to the apt, caught up, jill and A came home at seven....we decided to get dinner at the palais de tokyo then catch the art exhibit after...the decor and food was delish! the bookstore was chalk full! the exhibit was not going to be open until the 25th! burn. ps we were packing 4 bottles of wine with us, that we only remembered to buy to drink at the base of the eiffel tower on the way to dinner, meaning no cork screw. so we wandered around the invalides area, saw where lady di died, found the metro to go home and play uno at the table. Jill slayed us all, i did ok, kris won once, and adam just made us laugh. and won nothing. jill and adam went out for a hike, and kris and i called it quits. a very lovely night.

2 comments:

Midi Recv'd said...

isn't it peculiar?

mt.st.mtn. said...

It's rad that you call Cartier Bresson the Hamburger Eyes of the 40s. In the late 30s, my granparents lived in Paris and became bros with those folks. After WWI, when she and her kids escaped Hungary, the CB folks gave her a job as a late-night photo retoucher. Somewhere, I have the book her 2nd husband published of all of their friends who worked there at the time. Crazy, awesome beatniks drinking and making out - you'd love it.