Tres Chic

Just returned to the apartment after another amazing day. It's a hot one in Paris, about 80 degrees- CELSIUS! hahaha Anyway, we headed out this morning to try to find me (Emily) a pair of jeans because I didn't bring any (at the advice of he-who-shall-remain-nameless). Nothing can make you feel fatter than trying on jeans in Europe. I don't recommend it.

First we visited the Rodin Museum, a short walk from our place. He was a sculptor, yes, but also quite the lover. Apparently one of his students, with whom he had a torrid affair, went a little cuckoo bananas after he left her for his wife (!) and was institutionalized. Now, looking at some portraits of Rodin, I'm a little surprised that he was such a ladies man, but I guess the whole artist thing really gets some girls going. The museum was set in his mansion, and was really beautiful. His sculptures were scattered inside and throughout the gardens outside.

After Rodin, we decided to go gaudy. No, not the famous Spanish artist, but the Champs Elysses. Oh my God, this street is the definition of excess. Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Ferrari, Armani, and even a Gap! It was packed with Eurotrash teens doing their school shopping-barf. Lucky for the Champs, there's the Arc du Triomphe at the end of it. We hiked up the stinky staircase to the top, and got some breathtaking views all around the city. Gorgeous!

We decided to go to the Musee d' Orsay after the Arc. It's set in an old train station, perfectly laid out in order of artistic era (Realism, Impressionism, post-Impressionism, and all the other crap). The Orsay houses work by Impressionists like Monet, Manet, Degas, Cassat, Renoir, and the list goes on. There is also a great collection of post-Impressionist work by Van Gogh and Toulouse Latrec. We spent a couple of hours wandering the halls and soaking in all there was to see.

On our walk back to the apartment, we stopped off at a nearby shop and I bought a cute pair of red shoes (Mark calls them my "festive lesbian" shoes, a term coined by our friend Anne). Tonight we're determined to head to the top of the Eiffel Tower. If we don't return, avenge our deaths!

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Once again, massive lines deterred our Eiffel Tower plans. But we did go out and have a wonderful dinner near the Ecole Militare (where Mark was haunted by memories of the USAFA). I had a delicious cheese burger with wine and Mark had steak tartare. Upon completing dinner and hanging around for the Eiffel Tower to do its evening shimmer, we took Mark home and put him in the oven at 350F for 30 minutes to allow his steak tartare to cook.