...playing catch-up... read on
it is tuesday afternoon and i am currently having a cafe creme at the cafe beaubourg. since i had to lug my laptop home for the move anyway, i decided to be unself-conscious (sort of) and take out my laptop and write for a bit. i asked around the office and found it was indeed "un-french" to bring out a laptop at a cafe. but i am at the iconoclastic centre pompidou, and i've also decided to not give a fuck.
although i've only been here for a week exactly, it is already a much different experience knowing that i live here. mostly because i have no real timetable for anything. like new york, i can put off "doing things" indefinitely. i can also go on drinking cafe creme's unhurriedly, which is nice.
this past weekend was my first french weekend. on friday i went to a horrific party in pigalle. it was like a frat party in the limelight. only like a hundred frats, and the building was like a hundred times older. it was the sort of affair with just an entrance fee and then all-you-can-drink. i am once again reminded that cash bars have an upside. we left during the theme song from flashdance, if that's any indication.
the rest of the weekend was quite nice though. the weather has taken a sharp turn for the better, and it is actually downright "hot" these days. which is wonderful for sitting in cafes, but awful for sitting in a small office among 25 french engineers (peee-uuuu). i have discussed with a coworker posting a stink-o-meter (or stink-o-metre, in french) to measure my... err quality of life in the workplace. i have also been working on plans for a redesign. heavy on the CSS, so it will take me awhile to educate myself.
ok let's get the obvious out of the way. i bought a pair of amazing shoes, on sale no less. it is the big sale time here. great way to kick off my new non-materialist lifestyle. gotta stock up first, like going into hibernation. yes, clearly this is not the point. they are rilly cute.
it goes without saying that paris is an amazingly beautiful city. the buildings radiate this sense of permanence. they are very old (much older than the ones in nyc), and unlike nyc, they are almost all in perfect condition. to look upwards at the street one could easily imagine it being anytime in the last four centuries. i don't think i'm projecting when i feel like they have an influence on the way i think here. also, parisian women are gorgeous. even though i've spent a fair amount of time here before, i am only just noticing this. it is really kind of amazing. the women in the city who are not pretty are tourists. unfortunately i haven't much of a taste for french men at the moment. i just can't get used to the tight jeans and the tucked in izod shirts. and the guys who rock their wardrobe american style, are just kinda... umm.. off. but maybe that's for the best considering i've proclaimed this the "summer of celibacy". i'm actually rethinking this one. it is just so romantic here. i can't think of a reason specifically, but paris is for lovers.
i have found myself a bit lonely at times, but not more so than in nyc. yet. btw, i am getting really pissed at people who respond to my efforts at french in english. it just seems really snide, like "don't even try you fucking american." how's a fucking american supposed to fucking learn!?! in the meantime i am try to translate my thoughts into french so i look like kind of a loon talking to myself in public. maybe i should get one of those goofy cell phone earpeices for cover. actually i have yet to see one of those earpieces here (score for the parisians).
since the office is closed tomorrow (wed.) i'll probably go out with some coworkers tonight. tomorrow is a trip to the cemetery and hopefully hopefully in the evening a spooky trip to the french catacombs. by the time i get to post this i hope i'll have some interesting reports from underneath the city of love.
with that i close up shop at the cafe, tho i feel like me and my laptop are like sort of a fixture now.
a tout a l'huere.
The last one :
: bad news : our connection
The next one : : An interview with Janus Marcovi,