Hey - a pic of my hair for this leg of the tour

Hi,

We're in Paris today. We're doing shows at Bercy tomorrow. I got an invitation to a picnic tomorrow in the park next to the stadium from a lady whose dog I met, but I'm going to dinner at my french exchange student Florence's house. Her kids are too smart and they love me. Her little daughter thought I wasn't that bright initially because I'd ask about certain vocabulary words if it were the first time I heard them, but her mommy got her straight when she explained that I was American, that my french is fabulous and asked her how many words she knew in English, and had the little one sing me "Happy Birthday" in English.

The boy and I speak effortlessly, which leads me to believe that my french age is 8. It's much harder to talk to tinier kids because they aren't as flexible with synonyms and tend to use really slangy words that I don't know. My french is so schoolteacher/snobby/stiff, as in, "I beg your pardon, might I have a spot of tea? Very well, good day." I'm learning to get a little more down and dirty and authentic sounding and to use more contractions and abbreviated forms of words. Frigo instead of refrigerator, yadda yadda.

I'm going to try and visit the Musee D'orsay and the Dali museum this week. Notice how I don't bother to put the french accent marks in, or to check a style guide to see if I should put quotes around a song title, or not? I don't care. It costs too much to use the internet and I'm so jetlagged right now, I'm doing good to just speak conversationally with you guys. So, know that I'm not unaware, I just need to remove all barriers to updating this blog at least every other day. Perfectoinsm be damned. Perfectionism. Okay, now it can be damned!

Smooches.