I am in Paris! I have pretty much fantasized about coming here since probably the age of 12, in between viewings of the "Princess Bride". I could sit here and boldfaced lie and say "oh Paris isn't what everyone says it is" or "Paris is aight, nothing much to see here" or "Where's the closest Applebee's bitches?" but that would be contrary to my very being, a. and b) Paris is beautifulomfgitslikethiscitywasborninmysubconciousandisonlyrealbecausei'vecrossedoverintosomekindofthirddimensionwheredreamsarereal.
i want to write all about my flight, the loving tale of the very, very hurried shuttle driver and my adventures in ordering andouilette sausage but i am rather hammered at the moment on some of the most delicious wine that was ever fermented inside a steel barrel. (Did you know that steel was the new oak? I'd be really surprised if you did because Rowan just made that up.)
So I'm just checking in right now, at this hour where it is 12:40am physically but 6:40pm in my brain. More tomorrow...
P.S. I'm currently sat in front of an open window over looking a street called Rue du Mont Cenis, There is a church of undetermined demonination across the street, the parking lot of which contains no fewer than 700 vespas. Lyrical, nasal French floats up in random sequence from the clear, perfect night. I've just poured another glass of red magic and I'm going to catch up with a good friend. Life is good.