I didn’t really miss Paris until I went to the American Library in Paris- sad I know, but that is one of the few places that tolerate me and I love the people. Several of us went to a Scottish bar in the Marias to play snooker. Snooker is essentially pool with only two colors and the balls are smaller than the pool I’m accustomed to- no reflection on the English, I’m sure.

As you may recall, my New Zealand friend and I were thoroughly trounced upon by the French in petanque- pool was a different story. We played like champions and just before we beat them into submission they all quit.

“Uhhh?” I exclaimed as they lay their cues on the table.
“This is a boring game” they replied and went off to eat some cheese or something.

I’d write a musical about it but the music left me that day.

I’m staying in New Zealand’s girlfriend’s room in the 8th while she is away on vacation. There is one stipulation to staying there- if the owner of the building or the concierge questions me I’m to tell them that I am her cousin- otherwise they will ask me to leave. It’s a Catholic thing I’m told- very strange. She pays rent, has lived there for years but she is not allowed to have a man stay in her room. I could understand it if it were a home for recovering crack-whores but, as far as I know, this is not the case.

HOT TIP- BIG NEWS: David Sedaris is speaking in Paris next Wednesday. It isn’t being advertised and it’s free. (This is what we call a cliffhanger in the biz.)

Sorry about the lack of posts lately- I've been on a writing streak at the American Library and haven't devoted much time to the blog. I also bought Season 2 and 3 of Lost, which hasn't helped.


I have been reading some Henry Miller these last few weeks- “Quiet Days in Clichey and “Tropic of Cancer”. Flipping through a biography about him yesterday I noticed that on his to do list he had written, “Steal good books from the American Library”. I showed it to the librarian at the American Library in a sad attempt to connect with her; she laughed but it did nothing to help my standing. Sometimes I read a celebrated author and can’t help but wonder what people see in him. Henry Miller is one of these authors. Granted I haven't read much and will continue but what I gather from these two books is the main subject matter seems to be a 40 something-year-old balding man writing about his sexual conquests in Paris. But if he's paying hookers, or not paying them, as is often the case, it is hardly a sexual conquest. I find the whole topic fairly depressing- it seems to be the subject matter for a 16 year-old boy's fantasies than that of a middle-aged man. I've heard Henry Miller described as Celine- but I'm not seeing it.

I acknowledge that I know only a small amount of his work but so far the only thing I learn from his writing is that if Henry Miller can get laid in Paris than pretty much anyone can.

I don’t know why that guy is in AA. He may be court ordered, he may honestly be trying to quit smoking crack or drinking or whatever his problem is. He just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would show up voluntarily. Maybe he’s lonely.

Recovery is a great place to meet people and socialize. It's high school with ashtrays and the prom queen is a crack whore. Well... maybe its not like high school at all, but it is a good place to meet people.

I've been kicking around a couple new goals I want to work toward.

I'm not certain if I mentioned that I started working out and jogging ever since the crackwhore made disparaging remarks about my weight. I've been going to the gym for the past 9 weeks, trying to tone up my body and lose the love handles, increase energy, you know all that shite. After I jogged 1 mile for the first time since junior high and then I then a few weeks later I got up to 2 miles it occurred to me that it might be possible to run a 5K race. After I finished laughing at the thought of me in a race I googled "how to run a 5k race" and this week I began training. I don't think I'll tell K- about this plan, it seems like more of a personal goal and I'd rather do this in my own quiet manner (also I can bail on the idea as soon as it gets too hard).

So every Monday I'm going to run down the last weeks training goals for the week. I shoule by early April be able ot run 5K which is 3.1 miles (thank you google). Afterwards I will begin drinking, smoking and snorting cocaine.

I have discussed those little moments of serendipity that are gifts. There are also moments that ask you do some serious self-appraisal.

I ran into a woman I knew from 'back in the day'. She's a crackwhore. I don't mean that in a glib way, I just mean she trades sex for crack.

The exchange went like this.

Misplaced: "Hey Crackwhore how have you been?"
Crackwhore: "Misplaced! What's shakin'? Man it's been a long time- you got your haircut I hardly recognized you."
Misplaced: "Yea it has been awhile, good to see you."
Crackwhore: "...and you gained a lot of weight"
Misplaced: "huh?"
Crackwhore: "Weight... you gained a lot of weight"

I think its safe to say that when a crackwhore suggests that you've let yourself go, you've probably let yourself go.