Cold feet, pet shops, and poetry

That's more or less all that can be said for today.

I spent most of the time messing with my photographs and poems from the last week, reading Newsweek and generally relaxing. In the evening I went out in search of aquarium plants with John on the row of pet shops by Pont Neuf, and then walked all the way back to the apartment through the lovely little neighborhoods in full Saturday evening swing. I even found an American bakery that I absolutely have to go back to, just to see if it tastes anything like home.

After that, we went to a party at one of their friend's apartments. Everyone drank too much and danced outrageously to things like 'Cry Baby' and the Macarena. It was a good time, even if the cigarette smoke did start to get overwhelming at around twelve-thirty. And now it's one-thirty in the morning and people are attempting to sleep in preparation for getting up early for the Andy Warhol exhibition tomorrow, so I think I'll join them before my sentences get any longer and I get anymore incoherent. Yes.

Ciao!