Today I was a good Catholic. All irony aside, this morning I made it to Notre Dame in time for the 10:30 mass with Gregorian chants. It was packed full of Catholics and tourists (and maybe even some Catholic tourists), but I found a great spot in the front. I wished that I was familiar with what they were reciting. For the rest of the day, religious motivations infiltrated my thoughts even more than usual. One particular thought that stuck with me was that God (please bear with me and my loose usage of this term) cherishes everything we have learned to do.


On that note, I would like to talk a little about the city's many crêpe artists. I have lost count of how many Nutella and banana crêpes I've consumed since living here. This morning I actually had one without the Nutella -- it was an excellent breakfast treat. As I watch these masters swirl the batter on the hot griddle, I anticipate the addition of the banana. Sometimes they slice it over the crêpe, other times they lay it down and then cut it. Still other times they leave it whole (!). More often than not, they add the banana after both sides of the crêpe have been already cooked, but every now and then it will go in while one side is still sizzling. After doing this hundreds and hundreds of times, each chef develops his own way of creating this little bundle of joy. I hope they are as impressed by their work as I am.

After mass I read Calvino on a sunny bench outside of Shakes & Co. I demand nothing more from you but to read "Difficult Loves." Of course, I think it's best read straight through, but I also think it's important that you read it as you see fit. It only took me a week of Metro rides to read and I haven't been this inspired in a long time.


Anyway, here are some shots of springtime in Paris. As for the pansy: there's definitely a bit of Printemps 2008 in here, don't you think?

My next stop was Champs-Élysées. The ultimate goal of this expedition was to find the Marc Jacobs boutique via Louis Vuitton. For the record, there was not a single item in LV that I would have bought if I had the money. But, everybody told me to go look at the flagship anyway. It was an impressive retail space, but I did not envy the sales-staff working the floor.

Then I went to Oberkampf for dinner and drinks. I had a Leffe and a pretty good baked chicken dish at Le Plein Soleil. To walk off the meal I went to Art Café, along the way observing dog parks, games of bocce, and pigeon attacks.


Why are there so many couples and families who are clearly European (heavy accents) speaking to each other in English? Is it perhaps that two nationalities met, fell in love, and had only English as a common language?