Paris Part I

Well I realize I have been pretty poor with my blogging frequency. I write most in my journal, and am a bit too lazy and busy to type up my thoughts. I am not a fan of the blog; reminds of teenage livejournal angst. Most of my thoughts I prefer to remain private, don't want to run the risk of offending anyone. However, I will type up some of my nonlinear thoughts while in paris:

My first afternoon, following the louvre visit, I was relaxing in jardin des tuileries with an expensive sandwich avec jambon et fromage. I watch some sort of interesting vogue'esque photo shoot. Here are my notes:

- model standing on pink cylinder
- 5 in baby pink platforms
- soft pink pleated silk skirt
- draped with feather top

- hair blows in her face as she takes last drag of fag
- flails arms and legs as in convulsing

-pasty white w/ pink complements

- small crew 5-6; 30 somethings
- model - 20s?

- every 45 seconds man with tattoos and wrist cast shades her with umbrella

-twirling now - nearly falling over
- tryin gto show the free flowing costume

- crowd of + 20 look confused as I do
- she makes modeling look easy... not effortless... but unskillful
- one man in neckbrace gives directions







Le Louvre

Arrived at 16:00, a lot of people - difficult to enjoy myself when surrounded by frantic tourists with the only objective to snap a photo of mona lisa. Only a few people take in the art -- conditioned to seek out famous pieces - stand next to themp with a smile and have their picture taken - one would think the international community would not act like Americans.
Left the Louvre for the Musée d'Orangerie - but it was closed - walked very far to reach le Centre Pompidou (individuals groups and couples lounge on the stone decline infront of the museum. I was approached by a french lady about my age - she rambled softly in french - was not interested once she discovered I did not speak the language.

Woke up and decided I could rest 15 minutes longer - went east on the tube when I should have went west - arrived at the rail station - read the electronic departure screen, 9016 pour paris was closed. I began to get anxious - asking a couple if I could cut them in the security line. Asked a woman if she thought I would make it -- she told me something like, hurry but don't rush - sped through the passport check and ran to the eurorail. I ask twice which cabin I am in - second time I am told just to hop on because I will not make it. Crash through each cabin - but I do not care - get stuck in the food cabin - my first experience with french commands - I fail. Make it to my seat but someone is in it - fall asleep with my mouth open wide for the train ride.

Spent over and hour in the Gare du Nord. The metro ticket dispenser will not accept my credit card - wait in line behind some ignorant Indians - was called over to an open attendant at the information center - she was horrid - I even used some french - forced to buy a map of London to get change for the metro machine.

I look like a single female tourist - been hacked at twice once I was able to just walk away from - the other was a caracurist outside the pompidou. It is 9oo pm the sun is setting and I am far from my bed - just threw my bad in an overflowing "storage room" - don't even know if I can access it once I get back or if it will be there. Don't know what to do - don't want to go back so early - but I do not want to wanter the streets. My wine is nearly gone and my feet are tired.

Travel is nothing without company.

Slept well lastnight - missed breakfast for a few more hours of sleep - had a strange dream after I woke up - I was in a hostel with Courtney and Louie. Met everyone in the hostel - one person had a small child, age 5, but she was like a playing card it was strange.

Visited the Eiffel Tower lastnight it was lit up with a brilliant liberty blue - sad that I was alone in a quarter mile stretch of doting lovers - however seeing the tower lit up and for ten minutes with epileptic flashing white lights - I was happy - I was there.
I can handle myself on the metro - I am 20 with limited public transportation experience - however I use my head. Mad rush to the Champ de Mars metro - I knew it would be chaotic but my feet were tired and I needed my bed.
I don't like the french.

((incomplete))

Tiring day. Stayed up too late lastnight and started off the day on the wrong foot. Got lost somewhere between earl's court and gloucester tube stations. Before we even left for St. Paul's my feet were soaking and my hair was frazzled. I enjoyed St Paul's. Climbed all the way to the top of the cathedral... slipped on the way down, it could have been ugly. Bad weather, so the view of the city was not all that charming. Ate at ye ole cock... I was exhausted by 4. Took a nap and woke up completely disoriented. Made a lite snack and did Paris research. My biggest concern is making sure I get the correct metro pass and that my hostels received my reservation. I need to figure out safe things to do at night.

Well I need to rest so I can enjoy tomorrow.

i can't lock my door...

well my biggest concern is that I can not lock my room at night... and it appears to happen only when no one is around. London Tower was dreadfully dull. guns armour and giant spears do not excite me. evidently most pubs in south kensington close at about 11 pm... so that is no fun.

happy that it did not rain today.

a bit whiskey bent so this blog is going nowhere.

had an amusing conversation on the absurdity of ithaca college journalism program. gives me hope to know that there are like minded people.

london robs you worse than IC. and that is a rather large achievement.

Should I pack that?

My checklists, littered throughout my bedroom and etched on envelops and notebook paper, indicate that it is time to commence the epic adventures of blogging. The Summer heat only fuels my lethargic tendencies. Over the years I have developed the habit of dwelling. To prevent myself from becoming overly consumed with my level of preparedness for the trip, I decided to take two small road trips, one to Plattsburgh, N.Y. and another to North Carolina. These trips were great distractions. I find myself, now four days from departure, sitting in a chaotic bedroom with piles of 'things' growing on any open carpet space. I keep telling myself I work best under pressure.

As the trip creeps closer, I believe I am most excited, above even traveling, for the opportunity to spend three weeks in a quasi (and much needed) writers retreat. This summer I decided to give myself a lesson in Gonzo Journalism, using HST Great Shark Hunt as my required text. I am going to use the exotic topic of Travel Writing as my premier exercise in gonzo. As Hunter says, "Objective Journalism is a contradiction of terms." I am also seeking motivation from a selection of Tom Robbins travel musings.

Well I would much prefer to read a bit in the sun, rather than sit hunch over computer screen... until next time.