Day 5

            In Paris, no one owns a dryer, but many own washers. Guilhem has a large rack for hanging clothes on. He is the nicest guy ever. He let me use his bed while he slept on the couch b/c he works til 3 a.m. every night at his bar. He also let me use his incredibly nice guitar while in town, and I don't know if I'm happier than when I'm writing songs.

            I practiced for my set, which could literally be 3 hours. If all those Americans from last night come, I'll totally be able to do that.
            I told Guilhem that a beautiful young lady from couchsurfing.org offered me her room so I might leave and go there if I can. He totally understood.
            I bought groceries down the street, only way to stay vegan cheaply in Paris. Figuring out wtf was in each item was extremely difficult. This one has a good translation though:

I asked the cashier (in French) what "miel" is and she laughed incredulously and asked the other cashier to explain. She said "jam" and I said "oh it's not from an animal? ok!" When I got home I looked in the "common French words" Lonely Planet Guide to Paris and discovered it's actually honey. Luckily I don't mind honey because as Sam Merritt once said, "you aren't pretending to love bees are you?" I then discovered I accidentally bought cookies with butter in them. I was very proud that I successfully returned them at the store without anyone being confused by my imperfect French. Thanks, high school!
            I called that girl from couchsurfing.org, no answer.
            On recommendation of the girlfriend of an awesome guy I met at the open mic, I went to La Musee d'Orsay, 6.5 Euros after 4:30 PM. Had literally the best exhibit I've ever seen at any museum, Romantisme Noir, including this painting which I've used when teaching about sleep paralysis for years:

 The person who wrote up the description of the show is a pretentious ass and talked about how mysterious the meaning is. Do your damn research, curator's assistant!
More amazing shit from there:

This is from a series of similar photos from 1890:

THIS PAINTING IS ACTUALLY CALLED "THE ARTIST'S WIFE ON HER DEATH-BED":

 There were a lot more amazing pictures in that exhibit. I almost bought the art book but I am not a middle-aged divorced woman.
Of course I had to listen to Don McLean while looking at this:

which is one of two paintings he did with that title (the other is in NYC's MOMA)
            I was the last person to look at it before close so I got to stand there alone in front of it which was a really nice experience. I also listened to this even-better song while staring:

I left and called that girl from couchsurfing.org again. No answer. Left her a message.
Walked along the seine. Took this picture to be hilarious b/c all water looks basically the same:

It was freezing out, and the traffic next to the river makes it hard to breathe. Ended my random, lonely walk at the Eiffel Tower. Here is a great pic of it:

In the spirit of never taking any aesthetic photos, I made this:
It was overcast, so no need to go up it, but just seeing it was pretty awesome.
I walked across the Seine towards Sacre-Coeur and took this picture

            Tried that girl from couchsurfing.org again. She actually answered! Her English is as bad as my French. Couldn't understand each other too well. Told her I'd come by.
            Walked over, reminding myself not to expect anything, but of course was really excited at the prospect of staying with a gorgeous 21 year-old French girl. Couldn't find her place. Called again. She said meet at the subway stop. I said OK which one and she said there's only one. I found 4. I walked all over til I saw her, maybe 30 min of wandering around lost. Kept asking strangers if they were her. Finally she approached. Gorgeous. Kissed on the cheek. Asked what she's up to - she said it's 8:30 and she's tired. I said let's hang out for a bit now but I have another place to stay if you need me to go. She was creeped out, but her justification was that she was confused I don't have a cell phone and that I couldn't find where she told us to meet. I told her I had a phone but it doesn't work in Europe and for some reason this relieved her.
            I told her I was a bit creeped out b/c in her internet message she misspelled her subway stop, so I thought "how the hell does this person not know how to spell where they live?" But she admitted she is a terrible speller. We both felt better about having misunderstood each other I was legitimately worried she'd end up being someone completely different than she claimed.
            I guess I hadn't understood but she'd said meet at the McDonald's, not the subway. Not sure how I confused those two things, but maybe b/c I've gotten really used to doing something that's been done to me a lot without my knowledge, which is just saying "yes yes" when you want someone to stop talking b/c you don't understand them. They think you understand but you don't care, it's all you can do to just get them to shut up, and you hope you can figure it out yourself. I have to remember to recognize this in foreigners back home.
            She brought me up to her awesome small dorm-like room and showed me an inflatable mattress where I could sleep. I told her I'd leave her alone to rest but I need to use the toilet first. She then turned into the generous French host and gave me Muesli and introduced me to the word vegetalien, which is French for vegan. I spoke French and she spoke English while we hung out for half an hour. She had a copy of Black Hole and we talked about our mutual love of that book but it became clear she is only interested in visuals whereas I care about the story only. We had very little in common so I decided to burn this bridge. We said our goodbyes and I thanked her for the Muesli and never contacted her again.
            I'm not really sure why I do this, make things worse when I can't make them good enough. Maybe it's b/c it keeps life interesting or maybe it's because it saves me the disappointment of trying and failing.
           Anyway, that was the only sad moment of Paris so far. I'd like to make more friends but French people aren't interested."
            This rejection makes me need a friend but I don't have any here. I might go try to find that Indian-American girl. Ah fuck it's 10:20 PM and I have no food. Everything closes early here. I bet all the vegan places on that list she gave me are done for the night.
            I have to develop a useful quality besides being quick to notice opportunities to get my needs met (opportunistic). I'm not sure what to do about this besides keep touring. Maybe I'll find food and practice tonight. If It weren't for music I'd be a bigger loser than J Mascis would've become under the same circumstances. I need to build my pyramid of needs back up - amazing that the 3rd row falls the second I lose a totally unrealistic and implausible opportunity, then I need friends to build me back up. I wonder if I know ANYONE who'd marry me right now.
I kind of don't think so.
            Wait, yes. I hope I can do better than that, though. Id rather marry her than no one though. It'd be nice if I had something good to offer besides being unusual and mentally stable.
            I wonder what I'd think if I saw Noah on the street - and if I'd even notice.