monday

I've sort of been too busy lately, which is something I have no problem admitting my animosity towards. But how can I attribute this strange loss of 'ole ephemeral time? I need a culprit...

There are so many possibilities, but it's not a difficult task to narrow down just one... one so easy to incriminate...even though it gives me pain...could it really be... the gym?

Worst nightmare coming true! But all is fine because, besides "the grunter"*, there are NO 'roided out monsters running around like some sewer-dwelling ninja-turtle gym-rats. Nope, none of that at the one and only El Horno Centro de Ocio y Cultura, in a Mel*-spanglified-inspired translation, 'Da Oven. I love this place... the good teachers instructing cool classes... all the happy gay men (so many)...its homey feel... the list could go on but I will stop rambling. I mostly like it because it's a 2 minute walk away. Love the 'hood.

So anyway, weekend lover's getaway to Paris also robbed lots of house-cat time, but that's okay because, well, how could it not be? A weekend lover's getaway, how not? Jenna let me rub her feet at night! It was so romantic,

Really, even the feet rubbing was lovely, the whole weekend was just as lovely as any of you fools can imagine. The only tainted aspect was the miserable headache that split open my skull like a massive earthquake most of the day yesterday until I got home late-afternoon and bee-lined for the ibprofen stash. The throbbing pain came back just this evening when I attempted to look down as far as possible, a simple chin-to-chest movement that I hadn't dared explore since I did SOMETHING to my neck on Saturday night. I'd like to think it was lots of head-banging. Yea, the dj was THAT good at an awesome Brazilian bar we went to donned the silly but quite suitable name of Flavela Chic. I would like to pay it forward by recommending it to everyone and their mothers, thanks to a few for the original good recs :)

Abstaining from taking anything to relieve the slight discomfort pulsing in my head...computer screen not helping the situation, plus I'm feeling tired and rambling again. Check out other highlights from the weekend getaway, that they may speak for themselves*. Here is very selective selection of the SEVEN pictures I took during the 3 days, I totally suck:


You know if you won the lottery your lifestyle would change significantly, just to state the general obvious. But let's say you had to make a list of some top five simple luxuries you would allow yourself on a regular basis, because even if you're a down-to-earth millionaire you are still an all-of-the-sudden one, and treating yourself to things is only what God wants when he blesses you with such a thing as an unforeseen fortune. On my millionaire list is having afternoon tea, of course following all etiquette of the art, making special emphasis on heaping piles of macaroons. This picture is from the oldest importer of tea in France (founded in 1854), Mariage Freres in Le Marais, the old Jewish quarter. Its classic design, tedius attention to detail, and overall wonderful experience inspire a feeling similar to colonial heaven.



So many damn people in this damn picture, but at least Jenna made it in, which I just now realized. This is an exhibit going on right now at the centre Pompidou belonging to a man Jean-Michel Othoniel and you can only imagine what other fun things he did with similarly colorful glass balls. This makes me "picture myself on a boat on a river, with tangerine trees and a marmelade sky". Like I said, 'twas lovely.

How could a massive hang-over ruin this? The picture is terrible I know, but at least it serves as proof that a) there was abundant sunshine all weekend and b) I had brunch on Sunday. Beyond people in the US, the thing I miss the most is brunch. This is no Le Peep but it is definitely of competitive quality.

Why I had to rub Jenna's feet every night. Now that's dedication (and a great way to see a city, that is, if you're into running).


*"the grunter" is a man who I often frequent at the gym: either we have very similar daily schedules, or the more likely possibility that he is at the gym all.the.time.
*Mel is also an aficionado of the Oven, and I find it noteworthy that she goes to a class called "sexy style", and that during this class she wears heels. Why, God, why doesn't my schedule permit me such experiences?
*except for a few things which I will insert cause I'm in the mood to ramble