The sun has finally gone down in Paris.  It’s 11:50 p.m.  I feel like I’ve been living in the Land of the Midnight Sun, which would mean I’m learning Norwegian instead of French.  The days are much longer here than in Texas.  The sun comes up around 5:30 and goes down at about 10:30.  I know because we walked home from a little cafe tonight after a wonderful dinner.  The cafe was 8 blocks away from the apartment, and  it was still light enough for us to see our way home.  I love it because I don’t have a car, don’t always know my way around, and here in Paris I have plenty of time to get lost and re-found before the sun goes down.

Mon marie and I traipsed off  to a show tonight called “How to Become Parisian in One Hour.”  Our American friends in Paris had told us about it.  It’s supposed to be hysterically funny because it’s all about the stereotypical Frenchman as seen through the eyes of foreigners (i.e., Americans, Brits, etc.)  I ordered the tickets online a few days ago.

I was pleased to discover that the theatre was a short walk from the apartment.  It wasn’t more than 10 minutes.  So, we launched out in plenty of time to pick up our tickets at the box office.

I have to say that I’m taking a certain amount of pride in the fact that I can get myself and others around Paris on foot and by Metro.  When I saw the location of the theatre, I thought, “Piece of cake.”  . . . And it was.

We walked down Rue Montorgueil, on to Rue Tiquetonne, continuing onto Rue des Petits Carraeux, then rue Poissionere, and left on Boulevard Poissionere.  Theatre is on the right. Nothing to it.

We walked into the theatre, and showing off my knowledge, I walked down the stairs to the French “will call” booth.  I asked for the tickets (en Francais), and the woman responded (en Anglais)–after asking my name and where our seats were and what was the day the tickets were booked, and what was my name again? and how do you spell my name? and are you sure the tickets are for tonight?–“Madame, your tickets are for tomorrow night.  (Pause)  You know, Parisians are always late to a show.  You–you are a day early.  (Laugh)  Now, you can see this show and learn how to become more like Parisians.”

I couldn’t go into the fact that it’s not because I’m American and I like to arrive early.  It’s because I’m AD/HD and don’t know how to write down information after I order tickets online.  Therefore, even when I tell my husband that we are going to the theatre on Wednesday, and he reminds me that I told him Wednesday, I have to insist that the tickets are for Tuesday because that’s the way I remember it.  Why, oh why, can’t I remember French verbs, then?

We went to a darling cafe, instead, and drank 3 vodka tonics.  One of us only had beer.

We’re off to Versailles tomorrow.  I have the whole trip mapped out.  We’ll call you from Norway.

A bientôt!