Paris, How do I love thee

And I’m sitting here in a full food coma, about to pass out. It’s almost 10 and my people left… I need to let them know that I’m leaving tomorrow, that I need to pay now, and that the internet is still not working! I dunno, I might be getting used to this whole not having internet thing… maybe it’s because I should be going out and doing things and not sitting here on the computer. Oh well. I’ll get back to this when I finish talking about my day.
Started out by deciding to walk to Gare du Lyon, to try and buy a train ticket. Same little yellow machine as the SNCF boutique, but I fiddle around anyways. I find one I like and try to buy it, but apparently foreign (American) credit cards don’t have the little smart chip so I have to go somewhere else to buy it. Zaogao de hen!. I then decide to walk along the Seine towards Paris Plage, because, the sun keeps coming out and fooling me into doing such things. Although I start out on the bank of the Seine basically, I accidentally walk the wrong way, and get lost towards the 11th. This is where I used to live, and I’m starting to recognize things. I think to myself how I should probably go to my old neighborhood, and maybe see if my pizza man (Pizza de Venice) still remembers me… maybe he would have even remembered my usual order (le vegetarian avec un oeuf), but my legs are in pain, and I’ve actually been craving pho all day (grâce à/ à cause de Helen telling my about it yesterday. I’ll let you decide which it is).
I take a train to Olympiades, the new stop right outside the library I was at, to first check to see if the library was still open (so that I could get back online). It wasn’t. Heartbroken, I came back home, but only after a stop to get some pho. I got a large, which came in a small bowl, but believe me it more than sufficed. There were lots of good meats, and lots of herbs to add in, perhaps even better than the number 1 I normally order in the States. Sitting by myself I watched people walk by and the servers hawk gaze on the customers. I ate all of it. I wasn’t hungry at all, I just chose to eat because I was really craving it…everytime I walked past a “traiteur chinoise, veitnamienne, thailandaise, laotienne” meaning Asian, I could smell it and it smelled so glorious. I had to have it, although I had already eaten the other half of the baguette I didn’t have at lunch. Man it made me miss home.
So now I’m here, about to fall asleep. I guess I’ll leave a note for Wang shushu he ta de didi.
Wan’an.
James

Paris, How do I love thee

Paris, France