Tonight’s dessert query:

Colleen (looking at menu): What is this? (Pointing at dish called “Camembert au l cru mouie a la Louche”):

Waitressperson: Uh, (rolling eyes) CAMEMBERT?

But it wasn’t just Camembert, it was a piece of Camembert with a side of butter, surrounded by a chocolate drizzle. I’ve seen many things, but cheese with a butter chaser for dessert is a new one for me.

We’ve just been here a day and a half and the time has been very, very full so far. Our apartment is on a very cool street and there don’t seem to be too many tourists here. Actually, all of Paris seems very empty and quiet. Except for the Auchan supermarket in a mall near La Defense but I will get to that later.

We’ve covered a lot of ground so far. Yesterday, even with jet lag, we seemed to walk forever. Today we had a ton of energy and went to the war museum at the Invalides, but I was most impressed with the gardens there. Then, since it is the 10th anniversary of Princess Diana’s death, we went to the Pont Alma where there was a bunch of people, flowers, photos, and probably some of those paparazzi that chased her into the tunnel in the first place. After that we climbed to the top of the Arch de Triomphe and we STILL had energy, so we took the metro out to La Defense.

La Defense is this giant metal square thing in the middle of a business district, way out of the center of things. (In tourist terms, anyway.) From the top of the Arch de Triomphe, you can see it, towering over the boulevard like the future as seen by a crazy Renaissance prophet who may or may not have been eating too many roots and scrubs. After that we had a couple of glasses of wine in a cafe, which was good because I was about to take Colleen and Kim to the craziest, most intense supermarket experience I think any of us have ever experienced.

I love the supermarket chain Auchan.

Auchan is like the biggest supermarket you’ve ever seen plus Target, times infinity. So when I read somewhere that there was an Auchan very close to La Defense, well, let’s just say that was part of the pull, for me at least. We went in and it was absolutely heaving with people. Perhaps we should have left right there and then, but I couldn’t. It’s like a drug to me, that place. This one had a dozen different canned cassoulets and all manner of trippy French tv dinners. I guess I am timid when it comes to certain things but in a supermarket I am not and I ruled those aisles. Thousands (and I am not exaggerating) cleared out when they saw me barreling through with my hand basket full of jars and cans of strange potted meats and various spreads, plus a bottle of Burgundy that cost less than five euro. But it took forever to check out and the business guy behind us about had a coronary he was so impatient. I felt like handing him a bottle of grappa and a packet of condoms – homeboy needed something to calm down. Can you buy valium over the counter here? If not he needs a prescription.

By the time we left there it was pretty late so by the time we metroed back and went to dinner it was almost 10. We went to a place around the corner called Louis Vins – a bit hit and miss, partly because we had absolutely no clue what the heck we were ordering. We had a Marlings Menu Master for France which was less than worthless. I ended up with a salad with mystery organs and some sort of cured meat (tongue?) and what I think was a sort of rawish foie gras, served on warm greens. There was also a blond hair in it. I guess I should have pointed that out but our blond waitressperson was already kind of an asshole, and while I move with stealth and cunning in a crowded Auchan, I am no good in situations like being a jerk in a language no one understands (my “French.”) Anyway. The rest of the meal was pretty good. Colleen had rabbit with mashed potatoes, Kim had a pork stew thing with lentils – really yummy lentils – and I had veal which was kind of tough and chewy in parts, but still OK. I got Pain Perdu which is like French Toast for dessert and that rocked.

So now it is late and I guess we will be running around again all day tomorrow so I’d better call it a night. We are having a great time – perfect, really, even with the hair in the salad.

I’m gonna be quick because a taxi is picking me up at 4:30 AM and I’m going to try my best to sleep by nine. The good thing is, I am fairly exhausted. Exhausted and hot and still thinking about last night’s Wilco show.

This is the problem with Wilco – they are so good that they can’t totally blow my mind anymore. They’ve spoiled us rotten already. Don’t get me wrong, this was an awesome concert. I guess it is kind of like your wine palate. If you keep drinking better and better wines, your palate is going to get more picky, and there is nothing you can do about it. Same with Wilco. It’s always so good that your palate gets a little dull after a while. I loved the show but I wasn’t buried in the sound, and I wasn’t levitating. I did, however, have an excellent time. Better for my back and my ears in the long run. But I kind of wish I was still a virgin sometimes.

We were extremely close to the stage, and the band, as always, put on an amazing show. There was a full moon and the air was sort of sultry. I drank a beer. Crazy, I know, but Bob handed it to me, so I drank it. Before the show we drank wine and ate cheese in a nice, leafy patio on the San Diego State campus, two seconds away from the venue, and Danny Miller came by, which was awesome. I’m such a goober that I gave him a Poptarticus Tshirt and some colored Sharpies in hopes he could procure some autographs on it and send it on later. Would be cool, but the band probably thinks I am a total freak.

Cool things about the show (besides it being, well, awesome): Nels Cline’s unbelievable guitar playing and his cool black and white striped socks. Glenn Kotche getting up from his kit with both drumsticks in the air in the beginning of “I’m the Man Who Loves You.” Glenn Kotche’s crazy drum freakings on “Misunderstood.” Glenn Kotche’s sweaty hair. And then, Jeff Tweedy’s rant on a guy eating nachos. The guy came in on song five and proceeded to eat some nachos. Bad move, dude. I totally agree with Jeff on this one, but on the way home, I was the only one who thought this was bad form.

Please, people. Don’t eat when genius is happening in front of you. It is just Not Cool. Ever. Do people eat at the symphony? At church? If rock ‘n’ roll is church, then a Wilco show is High Mass. Skeptical? Check this out:

So I have to try to sleep now. And when I next write, I will be in Paris. Thank you Wilco for getting here before I left!

I am all a-tingle.

This is going to sound crazy to some people but I started to cry when I watched this. Because, TONIGHT IS THE WILCO SHOW.

I love, love, love, love this band. Wait, let me say that again. I love, love, love, love this band, times infinity.

We have the best seats in the house. I will try really hard to stay grounded. Forget that – it is impossible. I will be practically levitating.

It was a total party weekend, and I am recovering. Saturday we had a slowtrav party, first at the Del Mar racetrack and then at the OB Vine. Palma baked this pizza rustica because I asked her to, and added a special touch on top. She’s awesome.

We had a very fun day and a great night.

Last night, there was a party two doors down at the home of Wes, one of the Vine cooks. It was a great party with live music and I stayed way too long. They didn’t have enough wine so I kept running home for more. I met some cool people, including the neighbor right over the fence from me, who has lived here for two years and I have never talked to her before! She’s from Brazil. I am glad that after all this time, I’ve got to know her a little.

So, a bit tired and hungover today, but I am oh so excited for tonight and I hope I can make it through the rest of the day without crying from happiness. And tomorrow would really suck, except that Wednesday I am FLYING TO FRANCE. Whoo hoo! The good times are killing me.

Writers block is weird. Tonight I was outside in a park with a jam band playing, and a gazillion people all worthy of writing about sitting around me, and literally hundreds of children there – running, yelling, taking over the land. I just sat there, observing it all, unable to speak.

I guess that we all have these ups and downs when it comes to communication. Times when we feel like talking, times when we absolutely cannot talk. Times when we should NOT talk. I guess I should be happy that I have, well, times.

It is kind of crazy to be around so many children all at once. I think, tonight, they may have snapped me out of my lethargy. Animated faces, contorted bodies, little flashes of fire that ran by so fast I could feel their wind on my back as they passed. Thankfully for them, none knocked against my cup of wine. But they took over that field of several hundred people – they ruled it. I know I saw this last year too, but there are more children now, or I forgot how many there were.

I knew I recognized the name of the band, but it wasn’t until I walked up close to the stage that I recognized Tapwater as the band who sat with us at dinner on the Xingolati cruise. They were the band that was playing in the bar when we first got on the ship, and I think I remember a washboard being involved, but I could be trippin’. Last night, they had a bunch of kids come up on stage to play percussion with them, and in front of the stage, a hundred kids danced around. By kids I don’t mean teenagers. I mean the five to eight set. I am telling you, they absolutely ruled the park last night.

It is cold, gray, lovely here at the beach. I never thought I could love fog so much. It is an abrupt change, as I could never, ever stand the fog before. I think I am going through some kind of life hoop all of a sudden and everything is changing. I even got my hair dyed a permanent color. Am I growing up? Is there a curve ball coming? Or is this state of ease, of happiness, normal, at least for now?

Whatever’s coming, I am ready. I don’t even care if some kid rams into me and knocks over my glass of wine. (Unless it’s, uh, a really good glass of wine.) I don’t care if I can’t write about it, I don’t care if I am crushed by it. All I care about is, the whatever coming. And it is coming, I assure you. And me. I think.

Here’s an awesome video of Monday night’s Rush show at Coors.

WOW! We were sitting very close to this person; and I think you can even hear us, which is kind of embarrassing.

Oh well, I’ll cure my embarrassment with Hurricanes and Beachcombers at Brian’s Birthday Luau at the beach today. Rum + all day at the beach = forgetfulness. Which is what a summer Saturday is all about, right?