Sharon Stone

It occurs to me that I missed the Planet Hope event hosted by Sharon Stone in Los Angeles over the weekend.

Gilles Humeau

Gilles Humeau is to be Jean-Pierre Soutric's remplacement. I'm sure he's a decent sort of fellow or he would not have gotten the job of doing whatever it is he's going to do. I'm just hoping that my situation has not been brought to his attention. The first thing new people usually like to do is get rid of irritating nuisances left behind by the previous regime. Though M. Soutric never made me feel like anything less than an honored guest, the far reaches of my fertile imagination can conceive the possibility that the antics of a certain someone who for a time haunted my logement, not to mention my every step, may have created a certain antipathy.

Perhaps M. Humeau would like some macarons from Ladurée.

Begging the question

I cannot say exactly what I've been doing for the past twelve days. Either I don't know or I can't write about it. Suffice it to say that I haven't yet learned my lesson though I am having a great deal of fun attempting to do so.

It concerns me that the meaning of 'begging the question' is being weeded out of the vernacular and it is now being presented by news readers, anchor persons and eye candy of all sorts to mean that the question must be asked. I think this comes as a result of the fact that almost every political utterance passed on to us by said individuals does, in fact, beg the question and the fewer of us that understand what that means, the better for them.

I am also appalled by the amount of debate framing that has been going on of late. Given the severe consequences to the very few, I think it is unpardonable and the only appropriate action at this time is to gather together our frequent flyer miles and bring the boys and girls home whilst they still have something to look forward to.

Adrift

I am adrift. It has just come to my attention that Jean-Pierre Soutric is no longer with the hotel having left to help another find its way in the City of Light. Of course, I sensed something amiss and my mal a l'aise , which began to manifest last Friday was no doubt due to a sixth sense that I would now have to fend for myself in navigating ma vie quotidienne here on the seventh floor.

I wish they would soften the lighting at La Brasserie Lipp.

Les Deux Magots

I enjoyed a late supper of smoked salmon and toast the other night at Les Deux Magots. Sitting next to me were some higher-ups in the Chirac mob. No doubt they were preparing to insinuate themselves into the Sarkozy mob since the former has thrown his support to the latter. We wonder why things never change.

In the morning, I'm off to L'éclaireur to buy some Catherine Michiels bracelets for a special friend--as opposed to a fille sympa--who just arrived from Los Angeles.