Bury Me in Paris

Images from Cemetere Montmartre…

Dirty Artists, Women of the Night, and A Really, Really Big Hill

I slept until noon today, which is completely unheard of in my world!The plan of action was to immerse myself in my Parisian neighbourhood, which I think I did a fine job of. The first couple of photos are my Villa! That is actually what it’s called. It’s a secluded little apartment complex tucked away off the street. I’ve also included photos of my elevator, which is ancient, and more than a little scary. Very, very tiny too. I know now why Europeans invented Ikea furniture, though I still don’t know how you’d get a couch up here! I sallied… View Post

Le Premier Jour

It’s 9:32 Paris time, and 3:30 Toronto time, and I’ve been up since yesterday at six a.m. I’ve spent over 12 hours trying to fly to another corner of the globe, and I’ve discovered that I can’t sleep on a plane without some kind of drug-induced stupor. Which I didn’t have this time, so this will have to be brief, because I’m crashing. How lame! I began to gnash my teeth and give up hope of ever getting to our destination, when the French country side finally came into view from the airplane. Acres of farm land looked like a… View Post

‘Twas the Night Before Paris

I’m going to barf.And I’m certainly NOT going to sleep!This insane level of excitement can only be compared to the absolutely sleepless Christmas Eves we had as children. Sadly, there is nobody here to stay up with all night whispering loudly to. Not-so-sadly, my parents aren’t in the next room yelling at me to go to sleep. No matter what, there will be something fabulous under my tree tomorrow. I feel like I should be leaving out milk and cookies. I’ve re-packed my suitcase three times. It’s very full. I was going to save space in case I needed it… View Post


This is my current theme song. If you’ve never heard it, you should find a copy, stat. WHERE DO YOU GO TO MY LOVELYPeter Sarstedt26/02/1969 – 4 weeks at #1 – 16 weeks on chart You talk like Marlene DietrichAnd you dance like Zizi JeanmaireYour clothes are all made by BalmainAnd there’s diamonds and pearls in your hair, yes there are You live in a fancy apartmentOff the Boulevard Saint-MichelWhere you keep your Rolling Stones recordsAnd a friend of Sacha Distel, yes you do But where do you go to my lovelyWhen you’re alone in your bedTell me the thoughts… View Post