jnthn

Dear Anastasia and Snow,

Je suis Paris...again!
Immediately I felt energized by the city, and by the familiarity of the neighborhood and the flat. Our flight was delayed 2 hours, us in the plane, on the tarmac. Mattie and I both took Tylenol PM's just before we were to push away from the gate. Then there was a delay, something about checking the equipment. I love how they refer to EVERYTHING about the plane somehow as equipment. I had my ear things stuffed in and was probably listening to Michael Jackson or Minor Threat or something and then passed out. It wasn't like the usual gradual ease into sleep I've been used to with pills and planes. This was more like that Ambien I took once, where you go from awake to comatose in about 10 seconds. It's basically anesthesia. My friend actually fell asleep sitting up with a newspaper open once.

So I woke up and we were still at the airport. I faded in and out of sleep for a while and I remember taking off, but not really. Then the rest of the flight, as Mattie put it, "...was full of sleep but whenever I was awake it was one of the worst flying experiences ever." And we've been on multiple planes every month since August. It was bad. Our entire flight crew was on edge, and the weird thing is, the passengers around me were probably some of the most sedate, least demanding, least invading each other's space bunch I've seen in a while. The flight crew just stressed everyone out. Fucking weird. Even worst, it seemed like they started the continental breakfast thing late because they barely got the coffee poured and the captain was telling people to put up their trays and seats.

So we got in. We got to Montmartre. We got into the flat. We went out for coffees. I walked down the familiar streets like it was NYC, I took Gabe and Mattie down and around our little neighborhood to meet with a friend at a record label and get a coffee at a great little corner cafe, just down from Sacre Coeur. Then back to the apt for some quick internet biz (seems to be the way with our whole crew, we all jam hard on the internet) and then off to dinner at a place called Le Petit Bleu. Fucking awesome Couscous Marguez with a carafe of tap water -- Paris tap water is amazingly good. Then we were late to hit the Metro. Of course I made us later by getting on the wrong train, then we got off and walked, then we got back on and got there. It was madness. We got to the show to hear the last two songs from Alex Gopher, grabbed 2 more girls and went off for a drink at Ave Maria, that same culture mashup place I spent so much time in last time. Had too many Caiperias and those rum/ginger/cinnemon/?? shots from last time and got intirely shitty (read: shitty, read: irritable) but tried to hide it. Then off to this place those boys DJed at last time called Le Baron, which is a pretty hip spot I guess, used to be a brothel and still looks like it could be. The drinks are bad, the people are shitty, models and such, but it's got enough weirdness going for it that for some reason I want to go back. And I was surly drunk, too.

In a taxi, driving around the city, thinking the whole time the cab driver is taking us out of the way to get another 2 from us, but also not caring.

Woke up today with a splitting headache and not being able to breathe out of my nose, which is dumb cause I haven't touched c0k3 in ages and there really wasn't any reason to have swollen sinuses except for allergies. Which I don't have as far as I know. But then, every time I come back to NYC I feel like I have that happen. Maybe that's it. Ok, that's it.

Today has been a lazy day. We won't do shit today. I'm going to have a drink in a couple hours with that label that wants to put out my music (they said we're having a drink over cognac) and one of the dudes wants to see a movie. I really want to hear Public Enemy.