Yesterday, I think I mentioned, that I’ve started greeting the day by trying to write prose accounts of my Paris Hub stories. These are little tales of manic madness and mad men of Paris I’ve been letting leak out in drips and drams of distilled essence for the last ten years. Oddly enough an e-mail for a contest to win a free trip to Paris showed up in my Inbox right after I hit save on the first installment (the Hub itself). I won’t give you the details of the contest, as frankly you’d be competition, but it seemed rather magical… several people forwarded it to me as well and I had to thank them but explain that I’d entered moments after the announcement. The first time I ever got to live in Paris was with my folks for a month. We’d gone out to taste Indian food in Greenwich Village for the first time. It was an odd and mysterious cuisine to my suburban sixteen year old palette. At the end of the meal I announced that we should go to Paris (both my older brothers were in college, so for the first time I had them to myself and thought we should make a sort of party of it). With two kids in college, it was probably not a good time for them to take a vacation… who could afford it? In a strange coincidance; the next morning a family friend called offering us to trade houses with the minister of the American Cathedral of Paris for a month in the summer. We got to live on the Avenue George V. Omens Oh man. Sometimes they work.
