Bonjour, I'm here in Katja's bitty apartment sitting on a stool by the front door in the single spot where she can nab wireless. It's uncomfortable, and I haven't done much of note yet, so this will be brief. And pictures will come later because it'll take jours upon jours for photos to load. But in the meantime.

1. My French is atrocious. I get completely deer-in-headlights whenever I have to speak and Katja does most of my bidding for me. Huge relief. But as a result--

2. My English vocabulary has gone out the window. Part of that was jetlag, but the other part is me. Yesterday I wanted to say 'apparatus' and all I could think was 'asparagus.' 

3. It's very chilly and foggy and damp. You couldn't see the top of the Eiffel Tower all day today.

4. Katja lives in a studio on the eighth floor of an old building on blvd. des Invalides. It's eight flights of twenty winding stairs. Out of breath on the way up, dizzy on the way down. When we leave we leave for hours at a time because the thought of 160 stairs makes me want to throw a tantrum. 

5. Her views are lovely, though. Out one window, the Sacre Coeur, and out the other the Eiffel Tower and les Invalides. Photos TK.

6. I told her: all I want to do is walk around and eat croissants and drink wine every day. So far we've walked our dogs off and drunk beaucoup de vin, but all the boulangeries were closed today, so tomorrow I will eat croissant.

A bientot, mes petites chouettes.