Yes, but what about Paris though?

(written 8/9/08 at around 12:00)

Finally, a place to write! I thought in Paris there would be a million cafes to sit for hours and write. So far I've felt rushed at every place I've been. The only writing I've done has been in my hotel room or the hotel lobby, writing blogs. I've just arrived near the hostel where I will most likely be staying for the rest of my time in Paris. Check -in is not til 16:00 and it is only 12:00. I'm exhausted from sleeping too much (it's almost all I've done!) and sleeping at the wrong times.
Not only does Paris remind me of "Interview with a Vampire" because of the film, not only because I first began reading the book in the UW dorms which reminded me so much of the hostels here in Paris, but also because I feel I am living the life of a vampire. Solitary. Sleeping all day. Awake in the night. Every time I see the old buildings of Paris, which is nearly everywhere, I am reminded of it. That is really the most fantastic part of Europe: how old it is. It's rare to see in the states. A turn of the century building there is ancient. I will certainly always be influenced by this old-world feel.
Maybe that is what makes us so easy to identify. We are like newborns in this country. It seems more than 50% of the time, before I even open my mouth, they know I'm an American. This is when walking around without backpack & suitcase, nothing that would immediately say "Tourist". But somehow they know. THere are plenty of tourists I can recognize, but without sounding full of myself, I thought I blended in fairly well, aside from the language.
I just looked across the street and noticed a Century 21. I find that funny. Of all the American companies I expected to find here, Century 21 is not one of them.
I'm a little embarassed I had McDonalds for breakfast today. Granted, it was a french version. An Egg McMuffin w/Bacon, 3 small pastries (pain au chocolat, croissant, and some sort of apple pastry), a yogurt parfait, coffee, and orange juice. All for 4.50 Euro. Easily the cheapest thing to eat in all of Montparnasse. But I knew I couldn't afford to eat again til dinner, and wanted more than an espresso & croissant. Plus, not a lot is open before 9am here.
I was up at 6:30 and out of cigarettes, so I went exploring. I had gone trying to find cigarettes the night before. But again, nothing much is open past midnight, especially on a Sunday.
I'm now realizing that instead of me just writing, this will turn into a blog entry. Ooohlala. now I have to type this whole thing up!
Well I suppose I ought to relay the other semi-exciting things that have happened, since thus far my blog has merely been me pining for home...
Well, for starters...Football! No, not European Football, but good ole American Football. They had a TV station at the hotel, NASN, North American Sports Network, and they show LIVE football games. Unfortunately, the LIVE part means its from 5pm to 5am. And they don't show Seattle teams. But I did watch the Jets v Dolphins game. I was happy for the Jets, but have to admit, the end of the game was exciting and I found myself rooting for the Dolphins to turn it around. I caught some of the Cowboys v Browns game, but let myself fall asleep (it was 2am after all). I saw updates of the Seahwaks score. Man, I'm glad I didn't see that game. I also saw the Huskies' score. Can anyone tell me if we actually played well, bad, etc? looked like a small loss. How could i have left the States during Football season??!? Oh well.
Okay, enough about you Americans. What about the Parisians? Well, first, they all smoke. It's really incredible. I never realized, on the whole, how many Americans don't smoke. Well, in comparison, it's a lot. I've managed to keep myself on my normal allotment, I don't know how. Probably because I've been sleeping the whole time. Well, this hostel won't allow it. There's a lockout from 11:00-16:00 More on the hostel later though.
Okay, so Saturday was interesting (I think it was Saturday). I think the Notre Dame area has always & will always be my favorite area of Paris. Anyway, Saturday morning I walked from Montparnasse to Notre Dame. It's quite a distnace. Not terrible, but not a short jaunt. As I was crossing the Seine, there were two women in front of me. All of a sudden, it appeared as though they dropped something. It sounded like a ring. To the rescue was a nice young gentleman. I'll call him Phillipe. He swoops down like an angel to retrieve the ring. But instead of returning it to the madamoiselles, he came to me. I hadn't said a thing. I was wearing my black European-looking coat. Listening to my iPod. Smoking a Cigarette. I looked French, okay! Well he came up to me, showed me the ring.
"Do you think it's gold?" he says. I take out my headphones, pretend I don't understand him.
"Hmm?" I say.
"Gold?" He knows. HOw does he know?
"I don't know. Maybe." I reply. Of course its not. I know this. He tries it on all his fingers, pretends it doesn't fit. He wants to try it on my fingers. It Fits! Holy Cow! What gracious gods do we owe this to? He hands it to me.
"For you," says Phillipe, "Bon Chance."
"Oui" I reply."
"Bon Chance...Good Luck" he tells me, as if I don't know. (I DO know what Bon Chance means).
And that's that. THat's what I thought. He wants the French Goodbye. A kiss on both cheeks. I oblige, at fist I think its just an embrace, then his head is on the other side of me. I was confused, but soon recognized. OK. I"ll do this, as he sort of forced me into it. Anyway, "Au Revoir" and he walks away and so do I. But wait! Phillipe is calling after me. DO I have some moeny for a sandwich?
Now, in Seattle, I could easily say No, or I could say Yes, depending on what I have and who is asking. Phillipe was nice. He gave me a ring! (though I knew he would probably ask for some money). I obliged him with 3.00 Euro. That's almost $5.00! He wasn't satisfied and kept begging for more. I said no. "okay give me the ring back." I gave it back and asked for my money back. He asked for MORE money. He wanted paper money, not coins. I took the ring back, said sorry,, NO, and walked away.
Phillipe was a little upset. So upset that he crossed the street. He dropped something, and swooped down to the ground like an angel to retrieve the ring. Another pair of suckers to pay Phillipe's rent. It was hours later that I realized, when he was giving me the French goodbye, he was trying to give the French goodbye to my wallet. Thankfully, I don't carry a wallet, and nothing of fvalue was in any accessible pocket, except my iPhone (whch was too risky to take and which I almost lost an hour later because I haphazardly placed it in my pocket!) So far that's been mmy only recognizable encounter with a French Con Artiste.
Later, and this is less interesting, but I found it intriguing, I had my first encounter with what I like to think was mild French Anarchy. At a Restaurant/Bar/Brassarie (as they all are) I was drinking a beer & eating some frites, when I heard a noise. Now this is right next to Notre Dame. Ona Saturday, when tourists a plenty from France & the world come to marvel at the true majesty of this cathedral. I turned to look at what the noise was, and saw a man pulling a railing (I'm not sure what the purpose of these railings is, but they are all over). He pulled the railing in front of the crosswalk, so it appeared as though the crosswalk was closed. I thought, at first, that this man must work for the government,a s I saw him cross the street, and grasp another railing. I looked back across the street to see what the people were doing. As expected, they stood there, like sheep, confused. I looked back to see what the government official had done on hte other side, only to realize that his efforts there weren't as important. He had merely knocked down the railing so it was flat on the ground. Apparently, he wasn't TOO committed to anarchy. But really, if you're too committed, you aren't really an anarchist, are you? The other side behaved like sheep for a little while longer, then began going around the railing. I never saw anyone fix the railing, though, so every once in a while there would be a new group of confused sheep.
Now, let me backtrack a little, and then a lot. I've decided I like this area because of 3 places. Notre Dame. It is truly beautiful and there are plenty of beautiful places here that deserve just as jmuch fame, but looking at this cathedral, either in rain or sun, is just wonder-ful. This is art. This is the "click" that we all long for that comes maybe forty or fifty times in a lifetime. (And that sounds like a lot compared to once-in-a-lifetime, but we aren't getting enough with forty. it's just not enough.)
I also love this area because it is home to the Shakespeare & Co bookstore. It's another place that "clicks". I don't know why it's so wonderful, but I think it is partially because they house people upstairs, partially because it is a place that truly loves literature, not just selling it, and partially because it was immortalized for me in "Before Sunset," which I watched just before I came (who knows how many times I've seen it) and also caught playing on TV here at 2am. I tried to follow the route that Julie Delpy & Ethan Hawke take around the area, but got lost.
The third reason why I love this area is a restaurant. Many years ago, with my family, whenever we travelled to Paris, we would come to this restaurant. I remember omelettes. I remember French Onion Soup. I remember Croque Monsieurs. I don't know why we loved this restaurant so much. I think its born into us, in childhood, to grab onto something and say "Mine!" So we find those retaurants or places, as children, that aren't all that exciting or necessarily good, but for some reason nothing in the world is as important as going there. This restaurant was ours. I ate there for breakfast friday. It wasn't particularly good, but still there was that faint "click." The "Click" wasn't from now, but a remnant from that original "Click" over ten years ago. After that breakfast on friday, I discovered, much to my surprise, that Shakespeare & Co was literally RIGHT NEXT DOOR.
So those are probably the real reasons I chose Paris. Even though I'd never been to Shakespeare & Co, from the movie, I knew. If I could spend all my time right there, this place probably wouldn't be so bad.
Plus, I could speak English.
Okay...getting really long, but a few more (short) things.
I talked earlier about how old it is here. Well nothing solidified that more than visiting Cemeterie du Montparnasse (SP?). The tombs are so old. Generations. It's beautiful. WHenever visiting cemeteries in the U.S (ore ven the one I went to in New Zealand) I'm overcome with sadness. Here, it's history. It's fitting.
Anyway, I was just walking around, paying little attention to the names, mostly looking at the architecture. I was almost at the exit when I glanced at a tomb and did a double take. It was the tomb of Jean-Paul Sartre! I almost missed it! On it were scraps of paper under small stones. Presumabely, these were the existential celebrity love notes of tourists. I would have left one, but didn't feel familiar enough.
Okay, last thing, a brief note. I told some of you about, and posted a link about, this artists community that I wanted to live in. Well, I went to check it out. I feel dishonorable saying any more about it, because it was kept in so much secret. Unfortunately they were looking for a year long commitment, which I can't make. But it was quite an interesting and helpful experience (they spoke English and i actually had a conversation!) This would've been a very cool opportunity and I am sorry I had to pass it up.

Ok.

Songs for Today
1. Burial - Archangel
2. The Cure - A Night Like This
3. LCD Soundsystem - All My Friends
4. Neko Case - The Needle Has Landed
5. A Perfect Circle - Vanishing

Ce'st Tout
Nathaniel

P.S. I just killed 2 hourse. 2 more until I check into the hostel in Montmontre. I have to say, I'm excited. hopefully i can meet & talk to some people who won't steal all my stuff.
C'est Tout.
Nathaniel