dix ans plus tard // ten years later

I know that I have been neglecting this blog a little bit as of late, but I have been sick and busy...and sick...and busy. Please expect a deluge of posts to come (and check to see the ones that have been posted!)--I am probably typing up even more entries as you are reading this one.

There are few things that are more simple and more perfect that a Parisian bread and cheese picnic. I don't know why, but I am pretty sure that it is one of those unbreakable laws of the universe.

Anyhow, one Friday night, a week or two ago, a group of friends and I decided that it would be a good idea to buy a bunch of cheese and have a picnic by the Seine (it was. A good idea, I mean). After some mishaps--who knew that bakeries are everywhere in Paris only when you aren't looking for them?--we were well on our way.

This is a photo of me smelling bread. I got teased for it all night...because I couldn't stop smelling it. But bread--good bread--is pretty much my version of crack. And I'm sure that there must be worse things to be teased about...

We had nine (9! NEUF. NUEVE.) different types of cheeses, along with some ham, pâté, and Smirnoff ice (nobody felt like wine). I can't remember what all of the cheeses were, but here is what I can dredge up:

• Brie
• Camembert
• Cantal
• Brin (??)
• Gorgonzola
• a type of blue cheese
• La Vache Qui Rit
• some sort of dessert cheese

Opinions on the various cheeses ranged from "Hey! This is awesome!" (M. finished an entire round of camembert by himself...) to "Ugh. This tastes like piss!" (No one liked the gorgonzola) Such is the power of cheese, I guess.

This is a picture of the carnage after we were done. There was still quite a lot of cheese remaining. To the left is C.'s bottle of beer.

Afterward, we all hopped on the Metro and went off in search of ice cream. Even though it was cold. Long story short, we found it, ate a lot, and all went home with a food baby.

When I leave Paris, it won't be the museums or galleries or theaters that I will miss most. It will be nights like this.