Brainwashed and Breathless

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I say I'm brainwashed because the first thing I thought before I got dressed was, "OH! I'd better put my sunscreen on!" Dad, what have you done to me? I guess among the many hazards of life, skin cancer should be fairly low on my list of possible causes of death.

So, I didn't lose money to the ATM machine, thankfully. Trouble is, a lot of machines don't take American cards anyway, so I'm forced to rely on my meager stash of cash until I can determine where I can safely and reliably find $$.

With very carefully written directions for each and every step of my journey (and I still managed to get lost, of course), I ventured beyond Le Marais, the beautiful district I am living in. I found the Metro, and once I was there, to my horror I found that everything had changed about getting a ticket. The Carte Orange that you could buy from a machine has been changed to a Passe Navigo, and nobody was terribly helpful in directing me how to purchase such a thing. Some irritated people behind me in line tried to show me how to use the machine to no avail. I got run around the Metro Bureaucracy from one counter to another, and finally out of desperation I bought a one-way ticket. At my next station, I asked a man at the information desk for help and he seriously walked outside of the office, went to the machine with me, and helped me buy a ticket for the weekend. Apparently, everything changes as of Monday, so I guess I'll deal with it then.

Anyway, I walked to the place I'm going to be working. It's a pretty building in a quiet area just beyond the Champs-Elysees. I just wanted to make sure I could find it before I go. I'm a dork, so I took pictures of the sign, but figured it was better to do so during non-business hours at peril of looking absurd. After that, I wandered around the Champs-Elysees, went to a little park, watched a puppet show. I was trying to find the metro station, and I think I walked around the Rond de le Champs-Elysees about eight times. Actually, it was four... because some French gentlemen who had been standing talking finally told me that they had been timing me how long it took to get back to them each time. My average was 8 minutes, apparently. Luckily, they were good natured and gave me directions to the metro, arguing over which of them gave better directions.

Anyway, I'll run out and buy some food for dinner and tomorrow soon, but here are a few pictures to enjoy.