Accommodations

My little room in the attic - like the crucifix?






What I gave up and miss already:

Alles Les Bleus...

Ronaldo in despair

All of Paris is celebrating. The cars won’t stop honking on the streets outside my window. I can’t believe France beat Brazil! I’m so disappointed. Ronaldinho, Ka Ká, Ronaldo, wtf?

I haven’t slept in 30 hours. I reek of smoke from the bar where we watched the game. And my team lost! After France scored a goal, we got free beer top-ups. After France won, the bartender gave everyone vouchers for half-priced beer for the semi-finals. The whole city is in ecstasy. I am going to jump off a bridge...

My neighborhood

Preparing for Pa-ree

The master plan was to take this much anticipated vacation in Paris, then return to San Francisco to look for a place to buy. But it didn't happen that way. No, of course not. Now, I'm wrangling with having to leave my little slice-of-heaven to hole up in a dorm room, sans bathroom, in the latin quarter of Paris. Fair trade? On va voir...

I've gotten very attached to my little loft in the bowels of the "Central Waterfront." Am still in the throes of furnishing, decorating, and cozying up my pad. So, I'm a little reluctant to leave mid-battle. Besides, I've grown rather fond of my morning routine: waking up to the industrial skyline of my neighborhood, making coffee in the kitchen, and eating breakfast and reading emails on my couch. Sounds silly, I know...but the routine grounds me and gears me up for the day.

What? Would I like cheese with my whine, you ask?

...I guess a month in Paris can't be that bad - bathroom or no bathroom.