JET LAG...

I seem to be in another time zone lately. I wake up late, can't stomach anything to eat until around three in the afternoon, then I'm ready for supper at the time everyone else is going to bed around here. I can't believe I must go to bed before two in the morning, but where can I go when everything closes at eleven? Maybe it's a delayed reaction to Barcelona.

I have also, I.just.cannot.believe. been getting excited about the third Thursday of November, even though I'm not in Paris - only to realise that today is in fact the FOURTH Thursday of November and I should have been swigging happily a whole week ago. So today is Thanksgiving I believe in the U.S. It's easy to get your dates mixed up when they're not really yours.

I've been valiantly holding off on the old "I really miss Paris" nostalgia trip for the whole of October and now most of November. Did you know I spent the whole of last October there, meeting poets and artists, discovering the whole "so THIS is how it's supposed to be done" of Paris fashion week and fairly skipping along the street to the bakery each morning as if I really actually lived there and knew how to carry the bread in a casual manner? Of course you do. It seems like a dream now, although it wasn't my first trip to Paris and by no means my last, that particular month had a magic about it I've never since been able to replicate on subsequent visits.
I received some kind of grace or luck during that time, bloody well brimming with joy was I.

So here goes, I'll indulge myself this once: every colour of macarons, place des Vosges, the nice waiter at Camille, ridiculous pooches in the street and cats on windowsills, La Seine at every time of day or night, rue St Paul, sitting in cafes for hours, buttery croissants, un quart at l'estaminet, gorgeous shops, 'my' little bit of the 3rd, the French guy who looks but doesn't perv, breakfast at Le Flore-cliched but good, Centre Pompidou bookshop, tartine, the artistry of florists, flanerie, Jardins du Luxembourg, popping into one of the APCs, Bonjour Mademoiselle, poetry readings, FROMAGE, Assouline bookshop and La Hune and..., 100 exhibitions to choose from, the water running along the gutters in the morning, sheets cleaned at the laundry, apero, cafe, cafe, cafe.
I miss you.

Cat Town via Cosmic