oh my. it really did sneak up....the last day in precious paris. I caught myself staring at everything a little longer....drinking in the little details I knew I wouldn't find in a camera.the way the streets curve, the contact points of the rooftops in the mini horizon with teency chimney spouts huddling, the geraniums crawling down flower boxes, the manner of dress of everyone (children especially,) the bubbling comprehension of passeryby conversation, the wind pushing parisian air into my nose (which was getting stuffy from Kris's cold,) the time taken for conversation by old folks on the sidewalk, bums in suits and dress shoes...the door handles in the middle of the doors..i tried to mark these down into my brain so I could collect them in my heart....I tried to wake up early....it was hard to sleep alone after two nights cuddling kris.....I woke up and emailed him directly to tell him so. Once we all arose, we primarily dedicated our last day to primo: tasting & secundo: buying. We swapped up our pattern and jill and i bought matching fleur de lis crown rings from a dreamy whitwashed jewelry boutique around the corner from the house. It had antlers on the wall.Mine was real gold, to make my mama proud....THEN We stopped off at the usual...i happened to nab the long-last pain au choc...it was still warm like a little baby in my hand! A + J got plain, and jill was happy with how even the simplest item from that joint was still so dreamy. Marched straight down that main little montmartre road towards the cemetery for more pretty photos.....jill bought some old school post cards from a little corner store, I crept down the steps to the graveyard's entrance, only to find it closed for reconstruction. I also found a dainty note set up taped on a pay phone, for a love by a love...on the avenue rachel...signed by the love named rachel...i tried to retrace the chalk hearts drawn from the note on the cement back up the stairs, past J+A who I neglected to mention the pursed passageway....After the hearts stopped I sorted my buds out and we found a new entrance. Once inside we found more pretty headstones etc...then A got a genius idea to eat what he considered to be a red-gooseberry! He popped it into his mouth, squeezed it in his molars just as J+I were like NOOOOOOOOO..he spit it out, but presently felt his stomach flip which led to eventual poops. After the gooseberry incident, I dared J to lay on a grave, she picked a less mossy one, and when I read the date of departure...it was for September 21, 18somethinrather...Jill you are waiting for your plane and despite your prediction, I know it will land. It was tricky to not let the day wander in the kind shade of the giant grave yard....but I shook us out....only to have a little black cat (apparently hundreds live there) bee line for a cuddle on adams calf....are my friends cursed? we shook it even faster....found a dope little odd and ends antique joint...I oggled old typesetting letters....jill and adam bought dainty trinkets including a french canard pin passed out after wwII, little french biking miniatures...i could do that. I could sell things in this town for a livin...and even spied a few potential empty storefronts...walked home for adams's poison butt explosion, ooooooh wait. jill and i stopped on the way and bought a gigantic crepe slathered with nutella and sliced banana...couldn't even eat it so full.....then gooseberry expulsion, then checkin for belgian emails, then back down to the marais for adam's shoes! ..on the actual train some wild sassafrass times took over...the techno parade was happening somewhere in town and these three sassy boys drinking pastisse harangued everyone in their vicinity, right in the metro doorway...not two stops more and this gnarly pack of kids barge the very same door the pastisse bros gaurded...we and many little old ladies moved over, I was guarding the LOLS with my giantesse arms like baby chicks, speaking in little french sweetness. the thanked me and i wanted a french gma hella bad. The pastisse boys looked like they were about to be wrecked by the new burlier and more ethnic crew (pastissy boys were like pleasanton white frats) and our stop appeared so we got off....so back to adam's feet....i was a shopping devil on his shoulder. He found the best secret shoe style ever!...boys will be jealous. He'll show you.......our secundo moment was to be had at our favorite falaffel joint..which was closed since it's a jewish joint on a saturday! found another...waited in line behind the longest french kiss Ive ever witnessed...like 20 minutes...had the best pickle (anise spiced) on the less best falaffel in paris (too fried and funky tzatziki)...I could show you next time we go, where to get the better ones. Ate in the sun in an old square, talked about past loves and ate and popped into Muji for jilly,...peeked into an english store where my devilish ways inspired yet another fanciful purchase for adam....made mama proud. En route to the metro stop we paused for a cigarette at the hotel de ville....OOPSSSSSS I left out my hit on moment...I was waiting alone outside for A+J during shoe purchase (yeah way back there) and a tall older frenchmun approached me and liked my french, then asked me for a walk and a cafe...this was my second request for a walk and a boisson. the other occured while waiting for krissy by the pigalle stop, and it was for a coca and cinq minutes.I said no thanks to both boys...or I should say men.....i think if you stand still alone in paris for a moment this will happen to you. It's flattering none the less, especially considering the lack of confidence and overall absence of chivalry/physical affection/forthright romance in the states. I will miss seeing all the corner make outs and beautiful french faces. Done with our cigs in the throngs back to the apartment to grab drinks to watch the sunset. On the way adam popped into my favorite specialty foodie shop to buy a present...this is where I got most of my gifts, when I went the other day I was given an anise candy. Grabbed drinks, upward hillwise, the sun was starting to pink up the horizon...lingered with the even larger masses on the steps. An african man performed juggling skills with his nike soccer ball. We caught the eiffel tower in the orangepurplepink haze, then drank more on our special bench and took more photos...after the sun sank we returned to the giant salad restaurant to refresh our standing as proper patrons. It also helped that we sat out front and in a different servers section. More rose, j+i ordered the same, adam got some raw ass salmon and ate the whole thing despite being thouroughly grossed out. Paid without a hitch, toasted our wine with eye contact. Wandered down a bit to the deux moulins to possibly buy a bier or a chocolat...but it sucked inside. the tabac from the movie was not there, and they were playing nirvana sand some gal who worked there tried to have amelie hair...We left before being asked what we would like. Back up to the apartment...drank a little more, I checked for a response from kris again...no results, adam blogged, and then brrrrrrrrrring...kris called me! I was pleased as punch. Once I hung up, all smiles, jill grabbed me and a bottle and she and I ran back up to the hill for some heart to hearts, and laughs. I saw one of the hooligans from the metro, we pushed the cork into the bottle smoked and hugged, and headed back down once sufficiently drunk enough to pee like a firehose. Jill couldn't wait and peed on the street after I coaxed her for like 10 minutes. Tons of pee on the streets in paris...I watched the moon as I guarded her from view...back into the spot with our olde time clicky key. And time for sleep. Goodnight Market. Goodnight steps. Goodnight Rue des trois freres. Goodnight alleyway. Goodnight window neighbor I wave to across les abesses alleyway. Goodnight distant conversations. Goodnight bum singing. Goodnight my best friends cooing. Goodnight yellow and blue apartment. Goodnight boxbed. Goodnight montmartre. Goodnight paris, je t'aime avec tout mon coeur.