A couple of shots

Doesn't everything look better in sepia?

This is at night, so you can't really see what's outside. Not that there's much, actually.

54 rue Greneta

The new pad is quite nice and I'll get a few pics up shortly. It's an old building and the floors appear to be original - wide plank hardwood. And they've been shined up to a fare-thee-well, which is what you say to anyone who steps foot on them in socks. They also creak to high heaven which I find charming but which the folks below might not. Nor, for that matter, the folks in high heaven.

I decided to work from home today just so's I can unpack a bit. Plus I seem to be a tad sniffly.

More later,

Tad Sniffly

Tie Yerd

That's right. I'm tired. Tuckered.

Crevé in fact. Yes, just like the old Mille Bornes flat tire. And I ain't got no Puncture Proof.

I can get through about four exchanges of a conversation in French before I'm just standing there lookin' like a complete retard, not saying anything at all, just staring, slack-jawed.

So hey, tomorrow evening I move into the new apartment! Pictures to come.

What is everyone up to? I guess this is like my own little facebook.

Thai Erd

Messy Room

Here is a picture of my bed, day 2.

Well, from the looks of it, “Jet Lag: You’re Stupid” works. I slept a bit of yesterday afternoon. Went to bed at a reasonably sane hour of 1 a.m., woke up at 6, then dozed off again until about 10. I felt a bit discombobulated at first, but brekky downstairs cleared that right on up.

I wrote to Ann about this, trying to do it in French. In doing so, I discovered that it’s very easy to be poetic in one’s prose. Just do a ham-fisted job of your original translation, then have the person at the other end translate it back into English using an online translator. Here’s what it looks like:

Cou cou mon petit chou chou!

J'ai dormi presque la nuit completement. J'ai me reveille a 6heure mais, ensuite m'endormi encore jusqu' a 10h30m! Mais ma tete est completement embrouille. C'est comme un reve... Tres bizarre.

J'ai deja mange petit dejeuner. Et aujourd'hui il fait bleu ciel! Donc, je vais sortir et voir qu'est-ce que passe.

Gives way to:

Neck neck my small cabbage cabbage! I slept almost the night completely. I have awaked at 6 o’clock but, then m' still deadened until 10:30 has! But my head is completely muddle. C' is like a dream… Very odd. J’eats breakfast. And today it makes blue sky! Therefore, I will leave and see what passes.

Had a ham and cheese crepe for din din tonight. Mmm-mm! Though I sure wish I’d stopped about ¾ the way through. Probably gonna give me Crepe Lag.

Justin Case

Just in case you thought I was exaggerating about the door being blocked...

Day One

January 15, 2010

Maybe if I tried calling something a blog I’d do better keeping up with it.

Man, I love flying. Really. Even the hassles at the airport, of which there were none this time. Even the TSA guy at the Xray machine was in a good mood; I was putting a guitar case onto the conveyor belt. He, very dryly, asks, “Drums?”

Air Tahiti is a fine, friendly airline. The name alone make traveling nice. It’s hard to think that wherever you’re headed, you’ll be doing something other than lying on a beach eating plantains sautéed in butter. The start the flight by coming around and handing out these fragrant little flowers which make the whole cabin smell nice. Then the flight attendants disappear for a bit and reappear wearing flower print casual wear. Never mind that we’re heading for Paris where it’s about 40 degrees today.

Watching the flight progress on the little screens on the back of the seat in front of me. Vitesse du sol does not mean Sun Speed. I figured it was some poetic French way of saying Ground Speed, but in fact, Sol means ground. Soleil means sun.

Above is a picture of my room at the Hotel Britannique. Nice, but there's virtually no more space in the room than what you can see. I have brought enough stuff to stay for a year. As a result, at the moment I can't open the door to get out.

Got some exciting TV on right now. It's the biathalon. And there are no commentators. It's just pure cross-country skiing/gun-shooting action. Here they come, duck-walking up a hill going about a half-mile an hour. Yeah, that's right. I came to Paris to complain about their sports broadcasting.

3:30 in the afternoon and I don't feel tired although I didn't sleep at all on the plane. I took Ann's recommended "Jet Lag Yo Mama" pills and at this point they seem to be working.

Cold and drizzly here. But just think how happy the farmers must be.

So that's it for now. Any questions?