Weekend warriors

It was quite the eventful weekend, so eventful that I am still catching up on sleep.  Although it seems dark, both Friday and Saturday consisted of cemetery visits, Friday to Père Lachaise and Saturday to la cimetiè de Montmartre.  Besides that, fellow Claremont friends were in town, so we did a bunch of chillin and grillin (minus the grillin).  Also, took another trip to the Marché aux Puces (where there is a bunch of cheap stuff) and wandered around there for a while.  Paris is a city that rewards wandering in the best way.  In fact, I wonder if many Parisians even have plans when not working, or if they just pretend to have a destination but actually just wander the city, finding new secret places and smiling (on the inside of course; no outside smiling aloud in Paris).
At la cimitière de Père Lachaise, we visited the graves of Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison, among many others.  There used to be a tradition for girls to put on lipstick and kiss Wilde's grave, but the city (or whoever runs the cemetery) decided that the lips constituted as a form of vandalism (go figure) so they surrounded his grave with glass.  Although initially bummed, once we arrived I realized it just created a perfect canvas for all of the lips  of the world.  Unfortunately I left my lipstick at home, so I just had to take pictures instead:

We also went and got a nice meal, which was just delicious (I made the best choice):

blurry chicken

my amazing bass and sweet potatoes

Maddie's hearty, delicious stew

And, in honor of the birthday Charlotte Leasia (who was visiting from Aix-en-Prevence in the south of France), we popped a bottle of champagne under the Eiffel Tower.

If only I could capture the sparkles (wish I had a camera from Harry Potter)

we meet again...

We also caught up with Ivan, one of the coolest Bulgarian, car-dwelling metro musicians in Paris that I know.

eerie

Moulin Rouge. So rouge.  They invited me to perform but we couldn't go inside, had to uphold our schedule...

Saturday night included a trip to the always-entertaining Rue Oberkampf, and Sunday night just involved a lot of procrastinating.  My Language and Culture teacher told us that we were half way through with his class and I literally yelled at him "C'est pas la verité" which means that's not true, even though it is; time really is flying. Definitely a week of work ahead of me (maybe). À la prochaine fois mes amis!