Living in Paris

Mood Kill: street performers and their blaring hip hop music at the steps of La Basilique du Sacre Couer. There really should be a city ordinance against this. It's just so.... wrong.

(I should note that I seem to be the only visitor to these steps today who is not enjoying the show.)

On this blustery Saturday morning, I woke up in a lovely rented flat in Belleville, and decided I wanted to stroll around the village of Montmarte today. So I boarded le metro, and rode up to Montmarte. Such are the simple pleasures of being in Paris.

I recognize that the last time I posted here, I was in Vancouver. Snow happened, the Games happened, Medals were counted, Anthems were sung. From Vancouver to Whistler to San Diego to Hawaii, back to San Diego, then a stop in New York, I finally landed safe and sound - if not exhausted - in Paris. I think I will stay awhile. I am too tired not to stay!

To make "living in Paris" come to fruition, I still have many things to sort out. Namely, a place to live. But I am not concerned. I trust that something will fall into place. It always does. Because when I leap, the net appears. Every time. Yes, I have to keep reminding myself of this.

For today anyway, I won't worry about a thing. Instead, I will revel in the fact that I am here in Montmarte during my first weekend as a longish-term resident of Paris. I will try to block out the music, and instead gaze up into the sun's rays that eagerly try to poke their way through the billowing clouds. I will wander the same cobblestone streets made famous (to me, anyway) by Audrey Tatou as Amelie. What's there to worry about?