Daft Punk is Playing at My House

Today I was walking around Montparnasse and stopped to get a caramel crepe, which was delicious. However when I went to throw the wrapper away I looked down and saw that I had caramel ALL OVER ME. My coat, my scarf, my jeans, my shoes... It literally looked like someone had taken a squeeze bottle of caramel and squirted it at me. I'm such a dope.

Also today my light went out in my room and neither I nor my landlord could seem to fix it. The whole event was pretty comical-- my sweet old landlord climbing up my rickety ladder to reach the light, me standing below, holding the ladder steady and handing him various different bulbs and flipping the switch on and off while he emitted various curses in French and English. The best part was when he would fiddle with it and say "Et voila! Switch it on!" and I would switch it and we would both stare at the bulb as nothing happened and he would say "Merde! Son of a bitch. Ok," and keep futzing. Verdict: still no light in Talisa's apartment.

On Friday night I went with friends Lindsey and JingJing to a jazz club below this bar in the Latin Quarter called Guillotine (yes, they had one!). The jazz club downstairs used to be a dungeon (!) and there were big stone walls and iron bars and yeah... pretty neat.