Is this a cockroach?My roommateI just saw another one as well. It might have been the same one, but I’m not sure.

Also, I bought what I thought was the awesomest bike ever, but as it turns out, the brakes aren’t so good and I almost killed an old man trying to avoid a pigeon. Then I almost killed myself trying to avoid a bus. Then I almost rode into an ambulance, but that was on purpose because the attendant was unbelievably hot! I think tomorrow I will be taking the bike back and getting the one I really wanted that the guy talked me out of because it was more expensive. In some instances it’s better to spend the cash. Besides, I’m going to sell it back to them at the end of the month anyway. For less than I bought it for obviously, but that’s like a rental cost.

It also didn’t help that I stocked up on frozen food when I found a PICARD! It’s not actually spelled all in capitals, but it just seems so reasonable to call it PICARD! Who knew a frozen food store could sound so virile? And before you say, ‘hey little miss clean living! What are you doing shopping in a frozen food store? What happened to the superawesome diet you’ve been following so attentively(for the most part)? I gotta tell ya that PICARD!s are excellent as far as it goes. Lots of organic veggies, frozen spring rolls with exactly the ingredients you would hope would be there, with none that you hope wouldn’ fruit mixes(which satisfies my daily smoothie fetish to no end!) with way more exotic fruits than I’ve ever found in canada(figs!). So that wasn’t bad. Except that I had no shopping bag, and made a wrong turn, expecting to end up near my apartment and somehow managing to end up hereOperaThis is the side (the side!) of the Paris operahouse. I totally would have ridden around and taken better pictures, but I had a bag of frozen food balanced on one handlebar, a bag full of toys(hulahoop, poi and contact juggling balls) on the other and organic frozen peas, cauliflower and fruit in the basket. So there’s me, weaving and dodging rush hour traffic on a teetery bike with relatively no brakes, when suddenly the toy bag rips, pieces of firehula all over the road in front of a bus(I have yet to see a bus drive at a reasonable speed in Paris) and me screaming in several languages(it’s funny how we suddenly discover we are fluent in freaka). So it should come as no surprise that I didn’t get any more pictures of Opera today. Then I proceeded to ride in what I thought was the right direction and ended up near Madeline. And then headed towards the Champs-Elysees. To be fair, it was the first time(this trip) I was really and truly lost in Paris. Next time I shall do it with less groceries, a better bike and a more durable shopping bag. Fortunately I decided to ride the wrong way down a one way street( a most daring plan to elude traffic, I’m sure) and was stopped by a cop. Who gave me directions, once he had looked them up in his little map book of Paris. I think I shall get one of those tomorrow, after I go back and get the bike I wanted.

Paris needs to be done by bicycle. The metro is efficient enough and you can get from one end of the city to the other within 20 minutes or so. And traffic is insane yes, especially around Republique, Bastille, L’arc du Triomphe traffic circles. But at the same time, it’s the most fun one can have. Driving is crazy and frustrating and motorcyclists have to wear helmets. Bicyclists are really the only ones with true freedom. And crazy canadian tourists who have no idea what the traffic laws even are? We have the most fun of all. (Je suis desolee, je suis un stoopide touriste et je ne comprends pas les signs du traffic misheur)

And fortunately for yous, the more mobile I am above ground(pics of metro stations are only so novel for so long) the better and more often the pictures tend to show up.

But now, I must have myself a smoothie, if for no other reason, then to celebrate my rampant ability to hunter/gather the savage frozen fig!

Tout a l’heure darlings!

Oh! And some of you(those who gave me an address to send it to) should be by now recieving postcards from Spain. I hope that it is so. My spanish is terrible and while I tried to establish I was buying the correct stampage for postcards to make it to Canada, there’s always a chance that those postcards won’t make it. That would be less tragic than many things, but more tragic than other things. I hope they get there soon, if they haven’t already.

By the by, if anyone else who hasn’t wants to give me their address, I will send you at least one, if not more, postcards. But one per country is the rule. So if you get one from Paris, don’t expect one from Provence. Likewise, if one comes from Reykjavik, one won’t be arriving from Hafnarfjorour. I guess the best way for addresses to come to me is via email. It likely wouldn’t do to post a comment with your home address in it. You might get strange letters(from someone other than me). And the best email for that would be So there it is, even if you are a random dude who stumbled across this blog in the frenzy of a latenight internet roaming session, if you email me your address I will send you a postcard. From somewhere.
Holy Radically Affiliated Cornchips! There’s a crazy loud electrical storm starting outside! Someone needs to run amok through the city in rubber soled shoes taking picturez!

It’s me. Just to be clear.