In honor our of cab driver--who clearly learned English the right way--who drove us home tonight.
We came to a stop near our hotel...except it was to the left, and the street was only one-way going right.
"Shit!"
But neither Mom nor I said it. He did. So limited vocabulary has to include swear words. Just saying.
Now, in the most irreverent non-sequitur of all time, let's talk about Notre Dame!
It just occurred to me today that an excellent photo opportunity would involve wearing a University of Notre Dame (pronounced in the very American note-er day-me way) in front of Notre Dame, with its fancier (and more nasal-sounding) pronunciation.
I suggested that we go up to the bell tower. Well, in a stunning surprise, the belfry--where Quasimodo (if he were real) would do his job--was closed. But, that didn't mean the top was closed. So we waited outside for a bit, and soon we were shepherded inside.
The first round of the winding steps was pretty taxing (for Mom). Then we came to this secluded gift store, where all the cool secular gifts were located. Of course, I have nothing against putting a cross on a necklace, I just think me wearing one wouldn't please anyone. Anyway, you buy your tickets to go all the way (sorry--these things just pop into my mind without me realizing it) to the top at that little area. So Mom and I decided to save our gift-buying for the return down.
Then there were more steps. And they got much narrower, and the indents from all the years of wear and tear were more pronounced. I looked it up online: 387 steps appeared to be the best answer. Mom nearly keeled over, though, to be fair, the girl who looked to be about my age in front of me was panting heavily every ten steps or so.
Personally, when I reached the top, I thought the view was worth it. I'm not sure that my mother entirely agrees...
Sorry, it's late. And we're going to DISNEY tomorrow. We are Willards. We are not ashamed that we're in Paris and choosing to spend a day at Disney. Because Disney!
Therefore, I really need to sleep, so I can't even reorder these pictures because the WiFi is being difficult. But I will give you context. Good night!
Dish to the left: Mom's orange duck with potatoes. Dish to the right: mine with scallops and Parmesan risotto! Mmmmmm-mmmmm good. Sorry, Campbell's. Do I have to pay a royalty?
My raspberry macaron. Filled with rose ice cream, with a rose petal and raspberry glued to the top. And more raspberries inside. Yes, that's a be-jealous face.
I was thinking of making blog posts solely based on desserts, but I actually think posts should be devoted to Snowball Kitty, mascot of Shakespeare & Co. bookstore.
To accompany my Ulysses reading.
This would be the subject of my scathing dissection of these asinine comments.
Different Beats than Dr. Dre's. Sorry. My terrible jokes know no bounds.
Too bad Jason Alexander wasn't there to voice the gargoyle.
:)
Just incredible views.
"Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair" is probably how Mom felt about climbing these stairs.
Candle we lit for Grandpa.
Grandpa's candle is the third on the left.
The time it took to upload this picture is worth the incredible detail captured. Wow.
Saints chilling outside the front of Notre Dame.
Corners of the room in the secluded gift shop.
Yes, that girl behind me is taking a selfie. At church. Also, people were kissing out front. Don't they realize this isn't really a romantic sight?
Now you see her, now you don't...
One of Mom's only solo photos.
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