Monday, October 24, 2011

New York...I've met someone else...

And her name is Paris. We met once when I was a little girl, and I thought she was strange because her cheeseburgers tasted like brocolli to me. But now that we've met again, and I am woman. I love you. I love you. I love you. Admittedly, we've only hung out twice and her Saturday nights are kind of janky, but her Sundays are magical. You and I said goodnight from the terrace of one of the rooms at Hotel El Dorado in Pigalle. We were quiet and still sharing a joint and a 15 year old Calvados, savoring the wee small hours until it was time for us to say goodbye again in the morning. Paris is a ever changing mystery the same way you were once to me New York. I needed you once, but now I think I need Paris and her effortless elegance and sensuality. Your diamantine hardness was seductive once, but you've cut me to the quick one too many times. 



When I left on Monday morning, I was definitely sad. I had hoped the Perpignan and the country side to the south would counter that sense of longing, but no...France to southwest is kind of busted from the seat of a train. Don't get it twisted the bad architecture of the 70s and general industrial waste of the 80s has absolutely touched France. That said, these Pyrénées  mountains are pretty potent. Today there were shrouded in clouds, and brooding on the horizon.

So I've arrived at my next WWOOF destination Mas Al Quinta. Again, I managed just as it was time to eat. That's always nice. Remember how I was telling y'all about the human kitty litter? Well that's a fact. I've seen it, it's real. You're not allowed to pee in said human kitty litter. Where do you pee then, you're asking? Funny you should ask...you actually pee outside. Yep. Just outside. It's like camping!

Holy hell...

kidding! I told myself I wanted adventure and I am getting it by the barrel full. Stay tuned.

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