If only the top floor in Paris means what it means in The States: penthouse, luxury, elevator. Here it means small room, poor and crusty. Ça va.
It's a cozy, gloomy Sunday here in The city of Light and I refuse to leave the house or get dressed. I may or may not be in the nude while I write this. Today's plan was to check out a tattoo parlor in Bastille for Séb who is itching for some ink but since it's damp and cold we opted for brunch indoors. He's also not exactly sure what he wants and my smiley face skull and cross bones with bubble letters that said "Séb 4 eva 2011" underneath proposal got vetoed. Dis.I'm sneaking in a mini post while Séb quickly runs out to vote during France's very first primary election for the upcoming 2012 presidential election. Crazy huh? Up until this year, the candidates were selected for the people. Insane...
For those of you who are in New York basking in the sun for Indian Summer, enjoy (sense sarcasm) and for those of you who are in Paris, here are some ideas to pass time...