There’s something here…a straight-shooting, mid ’60s Truffaut-ish quality…not modelish (which is what’s so appealing)…with that frank expression and those friendly-knowing eyes, she could have starred in Bed and Board or Two English Girls (assuming she can act)…her name is Jennifer Laemlin, and she may not even know who Francois Truffaut was, but she’s been very gracious and accomodating as I’ve sat and typed away inside Le Cafe qui parle (where she works) for hours and hours on end — Thursday, 6.1.06, 2:10 pm.

(a) Cafe on Boulevard de Courcelles — Thursday, 6.1.06, 12:05 pm; (b) ditto; (c) Outdoor banner for La Rupture on front facade of Pathe Wepler in Place Clichy — Thursday, 6.1.06, 12:40 pm; (d) One gallon equals 3.8 liters means that the more expensive gas on the right is selling for 6.34 Euros per gallon…right? And the slightly less expesnive “super” is going for 5.92 Euros per gallon — Thursday, 6.1.06, 12:55 pm; (e) View from just outside the Champs Elysee screening room where I saw The Road to Guantanamo this morning; (f) Graffiti on bathroom door inside facilities at Parc de Monce — Thursday, 6.1.06, 11:20 am; (g) Lunchtime snoozers at Parc de Monce — Thursday, 6.1.06, 12:25 pm; (h) I’m pretty sure you can’t buy lemon-flavored Tic Tacs in the U.S.; (i) Indian restaurant on rue Ruisseau near internet cafe that I’ve never gotten around to eating at, despite high recommends from the locals; (j) A single futon on the floor with electricity that shuts down if you run the heater, the kitchen hot plate and the bathroom fan at the same time is what you get for a weekly $500 rent in Paris these days , and with no accessible wi-fi (which sucks).