An American in Paris

I'm backtracking a bit because I never had the opportunity to tell you all about the best time I've had since I arrived.

Saturday night was Nuit Blanche (white night) in Paris. Essentially it was a lovely excuse for drinking and merriment and art exhibitions. I ventured out with two Americans that I met at the hostel (James, 29, law student at Sorbonne; Spencer, 21, hopeful entrepreneur). We went to the supermarché and bought some wine and some plastic cups and headed into the heart of the city. Upon ascending from the Metro station, we were greeted with the lights, sounds, and smells of a grand party. We walked down to the banks of the river Seine and set up shop across from the Notre Dame. It was spectacular. I won't even attempt to describe the beauty of the cathedral lit up at night because it would all be in vain. We sat, drank, and shared our lives with each other. Although it was very nice to be there with my new friends, the intimacy and beauty of the scene probed me to miss some of family and friends... I wished I could be sharing this with all of you!
Almost immediately upon finishing our first bottle of wine, a Haitian band crossed the bridge followed by a great parade of people. Of course we jumped to our feet and followed. We meandered through the city dancing all about and forgetting all of our inhibitions. It was lovely. Afterward, we viewed an art exhibition and found our way back to the river to finish our wine and, in true French fashion, get into a very heated conversation about nuclear weapons, mutually assured destruction, and the meaning of life. At some point I couldn't feel my feet or hands anymore and didn't really want to continue to discuss my un-existentialism, so we set back for the hostel. I may or may not have peed outside; I can neither confirm nor deny. (Everyone else was doing it! When in France...)
Anyway, I went back and climbed the 100 steps to my room (no joke) and went to sleep. As for the boys... that's another story for another day...

corkdork