Le Floris Brasserie, 44 rue Jean-Baptiste, Pigalle 75009
Paul and I went here to kill time before an appointment a couple of weeks ago.
Greetings everyone! It’s Tuesday again, a day that is becoming my “default day” to try to post something. Still trying to find my rhythm here on An Alien Parisienne. Sometimes the only way into a rhythm is just to jump in, huh, so here I go. *SPLASH*
Today I thought I would go through Flickr and choose some photos to show and share some stories. There is no central blog topic that is itching to be written about inside of me, although I have a couple of Paris Walks I’ve done in the past month, one with PJ and the other with Peter of Peter’s Paris. I’m just not in the headspace nor do I have the time to really do either justice in an all-out post right now, though, so I am going to just touch on where we went very briefly and recap some of the things I have done in recent weeks, since Easter weekend. I may be able to do something more comprehensive later. I hope I do. I want to make all the little Google map images with stars marking the places to go and so on. I like doing those! It’s not for now, though.
In addition, as you may recall, the fMIL is arriving, hopefully at the end of the week, depending on how flights have recovered from Eyjafjallajökull’s (say that, three times fast) ash cloud, which froze air travel for five days as fears of airplanes’ flying though the plume and getting silica in the engines and crashing were justified. Hopefully her flight will be on track by that time. I’m glad I don’t work in the airline industry right now, though. Ugh. What a mess…
I’m still in cleaning mode, too. Laundry has been washed for the week (one small load of whites remains), the tub has been scrubbed, I’m hopefully finishing the floors this afternoon, and the toilet and sink will be cleaned tomorrow, after PJ shaves, which always leaves gunky junk in the sink. Not criticizing — just saying. Those of you with dudes in your life who don’t wear beards and therefore shave know what I’m talking about. Just a part of life. Even in Paris. Imagine that — toilets and sinks need cleaning, even in a place like Paris. Can you imagine?! (That’s all oozing with sarcasm, just in case you were taking all of that seriously. *snort* I am rolling my eyes, too!)
What I am getting at is that I just need to POST already, as I have other things I want to get done.