l'ennui français.

I am lying around as I have been doing all evening. I was hoping to catch some figure skating on one of the four channels we can pick up on our french television, but they seem to think that unbelievably poorly made sitcoms are more important. Instead, I sat around and missed New York a little bit.
My classes leave a lot to be desired. I will leave it at that for fear of turning this entry into a grumble grumble...
Tonight was lovely. I was cold outside and I drank a bloody mary and ate some tuna and avocado.

I don't have very much to say that should be published in a travel blog. Write me letters. I will write back. I just go to a little cafe and order a tiny cup of coffee, and write you back. That simple. Really.

Tory is still serving the French their measly half-pints of beer. And the club downstairs is playing music with an exceptionally powerful baseline.

I think I will find myself at my second pop-punk concert in Paris. Yellowcard is playing, and Tory somehow ended up with three free tickets. I will let her go into that...
I mean, how can I pass up a free ticket to Yellowcard. After the success of the MXPX show... And what a success it was. The French would not be moshing if it weren't for me.

I better get my rest so that I will have enough energy to yell "PUNK ROCK SHOW" at the top of lungs. Because one can be sure the alterna-parisians will be doing it and everyone knows I was always an alterna at heart.