Return to Paris

When I stepped off the plane on May 5 Paris was 40 degees. Bienvenue a Paris!
I was totally unprepared. It was spring for Pete's sake. I had one very thin spring jacket more for fashion than warmth. All my shoes were inappropriate. I had no gloves. If that weren't bad enough (never say it can't get any worse)it has rained on and off all day every day, which left me in a quandry of how to dress. Fortunately for me, the lady who's apartment I am renting told me I could wear any of her coats. She was a size smaller but I snuggled into those winter jackets and coats with my summer open-toed shoes and looked a little like an immigrant from the New World, which is exactly what I was. Humbling.

As always, it is a bit of adjustment to move across the world. Right now I have no phone in the apartment that is working. Have no idea why. I am always searching my new neighborhood for the services I need. Today I struck "gold". I found a nail lady to do my nails. This is the oddest little shop I have ever seen. One cannot open the door fully because there is a large post directly inside the entrance, which I presume cannot be removed because of structure security. I have to squeeze (glad I am not any bigger) around it to get inside. It has an over-powering aroma of chemicals and other strange smells that may necessitate my putting a pollution mask on to sit there and have them done next week. Directly next store I found a hair salon. To color and cut my hair the man will charge me 29 euros. Heck, it costs 25 euro for my nails in that hell hole! Could that be a red flag? He speaks no English but the English speaking customer having her hair done said he is very good (I liked her hair cut) so that ought to be an adventure, too!

To start, I am having a directly opposite experience in Paris than I did last fall. It seems I have angered somehow the Paris gods. I have nice dates I must admit but have never heard from them again. Apparently, one day with moi propells them off the face of the earth. Scary! I was invited to a wine tasting last week and happily went to it with a "date". No sooner did he hand over the ticket to me than he told me to go whereever I want; I did not have to stay with him...? Then the Paris gods whipped him off the face of the earth. Never saw or heard from him again(Do I have spinach in my teeth?). Still I managed to go through three huge rooms of tables set up with French wines and give it the old college try. Lots of fun! The first night here I had a lovely evening with a charming Turkish man. We went to dinner in the 6th. He seemed quite interested when he purchased a bottle of Domaine Des Billards Saint-Amour to honor me, he stated proudly. I loved the wine. No, it had nothing to do with the name, Saint-Amour. Really. Is there a Saint-Amour? Only the Frenchies know for sure, but it sounded realistic to me (I was under its influence). Anyway, leave it to them to name a wine that has to be a knock out big seller just because of the label, which I took home with me. Pour me another one, my cheri. Never saw him again; his family will miss him.

And I know I logged about the long queques last time, but somehow they haven't improved in my absence. I want to be a consultant to these business people and tell them how easy it would be to shorten the lines and lengthen the customers' tempers. I could make a lot of money and maybe receive the Nobel Peace Prize.

In between cloudy skies and inclement weather I managed to get to Opera Garnier three times for opera tickets to wait in the long queques and then be told to come back tomorrow. When I couldn't get any available opera seats I, in my American practical wisdom, went to Craig's List and found an Opera Ticket for last night: Les Contes d'Hoffmann. It wasn't on my priorty list but I like to see operas in Paris. And it was at Opera Bastille, which is easier for me to travel to from my apartment. I negotiated the ticket price (ah, the nerve of me!) and paid 69 euros for a first balcony seat. I am not crazy about Opera Bastille. It is very stark plain and has steep steps, but I have to give them credit for their tremendous abilities at impressive staging. It just amazed me as they changed the scenery from one eleborate setting to another with dozens and dozens of ensemble cast. It was the shortest 3 1/2 hour opera I have ever seen. The ensemble casts tend to be first-class. I didn't go with any date so the population in Paris didn't decrease last night.

I also went to Craig's List and bought a ticket to see a short program with Mikhail Baryshnikov in June. I saw him twenty years ago in Phoenix, where he was booed because of his eccentric presentation of his ballet company. At that time we paid $300 for our tickets and an additional amount to attend a reception he was supposed to be at. In the June program he is dancing three solo numbers and one with a French (also dinosaur)female ballet star, Anna Laguna, who takes top billing! I was charged a mere $45 euro for the program, which was the higher price of ticket offerings. For Baryshinikov?! And even though I had that previous bad experience with his performance I wanted to see him again (and I could even afford it!) one more time before he goes to meet God. He's an antique in the ballet world.

Finally, I dragged a nice friend to Opera Garnier yesterday and it was opening up tickets for a ballet La Petite Danseuse de Degas at Opera Garnier and I purchsed a really good ticket in the orchestra for July.

What all this ups and downs has taught me is to remember that Paris sells tickets many months ahead of time. If I want to go to the Ballet or Opera I should have ordered from home. Dummy. I remember that by now.

My mood fluctuates constantly based on the mercy of the weather god. But as the weather broke last weekend I am feeling better today. On Saturday I went for a one hour power walk, came home showered, changed and went off and walked for seven more sunny hours! I loved it! Did the same the next day (minus the power walk) and bought some new clothes which I love.

I bought a membership in the Musee d'Orsay, which I should have done last September. It allows me to go to their special exhibits free and half price at their concerts. I have already attend one opera there and one classical concert. They had one beastly exhibit called Crime and Punishment. In the middle of all these morbid paintings I started to giggle. All I could think of was that the audience who attended and admired that exhibit were scarier than the exhibit. Why would human beings want to see paintings of mothers chopping up their children? Gross! But for me, free, because I am a member. Such a deal! Lucky me, I giggled.

One day, stuck in the rain, I remembered a song from decades ago called "Hello Mudder, Hello Fudder". Here is my partial rendition of that song:

"Bonjour Mudder, bonjour faddur,
Here I am back in my Paris
Paris is very entertaining and I'm sure
I'll have some fun if it stops raining.

It is dark and gloomy! Can this be my Paris?
There is no sun out there on my terrace.
Life is dull, life is boring
and I'm sure I'll have some fun when it stops pouring.

Cloudy skies,rainy weather, what a bore
that I forgot what I came here for.

Wait a minute, it stopped raining!
It stopped, pouring, it stopped hailing!
The sun is out now, Gee that's better.
Gee, mon ami, kindly disregard this letter!"

OK, so I am not a poet, but you get the idea. The weather is favored now by the Sun god! I say bienvenue to him. High time he reared his beautiful head.

Gotta run. Right now, I have to get ready for a date...should I call his family to say their farewells?