Paris might have been given the name "The City Of Lights" for a number of reasons... the fact that because of tacky American tourist they designed a light show for the Eiffel Tower (I kind of like it... ie. tacky American), the fact that everyone smokes everywhere and I have gotten asked for a light as many times as I have been asked if I was American, because I can walk downstairs at three in the morning if I wanted to and have my choice from a plethora of cafes with well lit signs inviting me to not sleep, or because it stays well lit from the sun until about ten thirty at night.
I don't know which one actually triumphed over the other reasons winning the title for Paris but I am growing quite appreciative for all of the above.
I had a lazy Paris day today and a late Paris night yesterday. We braved the Paris night life at a club called La Suite in a posh area of Paris. All I have to report is that I enjoyed getting ready to leave and crawling into bed this morning more than I actually enjoyed the club. Anna loves to go out and it was fun to see all of the non-eating Parisian models drinking their evian water. I also remembered why clubs prove to be not so much my scene (or these kinds anyways)
It is always fun to try to explain to intoxicated American boys why you don't want to dance with them or talk with them, how your not going home with them, how you in fact are completely sober, that you actually came here with your girlfriends just to have fun and you aren't looking to go home with him or anyone else etc.... It was even more fun conveying those same messages to intoxicated French guys who dress better than me with my broken French. And while I felt like I was flipping through the pages of In Style and GQ, I came to realization about my taste for boys, what can I say? I really like good ol' Texas boys (especially one in particular) who have a couple pair of jeans and maybe a couple pair of shorts with one week's worth of shirts that get rotated weekly and usually worn multiple times before washing. But hey I guess I should have expected this kind of experience... I did feel like I was at fashion week which goes into the Paris club high category.
After rolling in about four this morning I slept .... A LOT.... I spent the afternoon/evening at the Eiffel tower. Me, a chocholate crepe, a diet coke, and my journal. It was relaxing. Tomorrow I have nothing planned and that is really happy to me. love you all....
Paris might have been given the name "The City Of Lights" for a number of reasons... the fact that because of tacky American tourist they designed a light show for the Eiffel Tower (I kind of like it... ie. tacky American), the fact that everyone smokes everywhere and I have gotten asked for a light as many times as I have been asked if I was American, because I can walk downstairs at three in the morning if I wanted to and have my choice from a plethora of cafes with well lit signs inviting me to not sleep, or because it stays well lit from the sun until about ten thirty at night. 
I don't know which one actually triumphed over the other reasons winning the title for Paris but I am growing quite appreciative for all of the above. 
I had a lazy Paris day today and a late Paris night yesterday. We braved the Paris night life at a club called La Suite in a posh area of Paris. All I have to report is that I enjoyed getting ready to leave and crawling into bed this morning more than I actually enjoyed the club. Anna loves to go out and it was fun to see all of the non-eating Parisian models drinking their evian water. I also remembered why clubs prove to be not so much my scene (or these kinds anyways) 
It is always fun to try to explain to intoxicated American boys why you don't want to dance with them or talk with them, how your not going home with them, how you in fact are completely sober, that you actually came here with your girlfriends just to have fun and you aren't looking to go home with him or anyone else etc.... It was even more fun conveying those same messages to intoxicated French guys who dress better than me with my broken French. And while I felt like I was flipping through the pages of In Style and GQ, I came to realization about my taste for boys, what can I say? I really like good ol' Texas boys (especially one in particular) who have a couple pair of jeans and maybe a couple pair of shorts with one week's worth of shirts that get rotated weekly and usually worn multiple times before washing. But hey I guess I should have expected this kind of experience... I did feel like I was at fashion week which goes into the Paris club high category. 
After rolling in about four this morning I slept .... A LOT.... I spent the afternoon/evening at the Eiffel tower. Me, a chocholate crepe, a diet coke, and my journal. It was relaxing. Tomorrow I have nothing planned and that is really happy to me. love you all....
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