My street is one block long. On the next street is the K-Mart which the landlady explained is the Korean mart where you can find real fish to make sushi if I were so inclined. She's from Manhattan and says the French do not know how to make sushi; I'm not sure about the Japanese French. She also explained that my apartment used to be a "legal massage parlor" and when that closed, they left only the bathtub which she kept. My bathroom is big with a shower that has a wand, the tropical shower head and jets that shoot water from the sides--you can use all three of them at once (or you could just take a bath). I also have a nice kitchen and my landlady said that she's getting more and more tourists who are in Paris for cooking lessons so they actually cook. I buy my meals from the local delis and couldn't be happier.

Last night , I participated in the actor life--the show is from 9:30-11, followed by drinking at the local bar called Carpe Diem, followed by staying up until 3 a.m. But we managed to get up by noon and go to those gardens--you know, those famous ones.

My landlady had told me my area is "Little Japan" but the French director of the play pffed and said there is no Little Japan in Paris; I just live in an area with a lot of Japanese restaurants.  I was going to take a cab home at 1 in the morning because we thought the Metro closed at 1 (it actually closes at 2 on the weekends)  but when Nicole asked her director if he would explain my location to the driver, he said to me "Madame.  The taxi driver will say to you 'It is too short. You must walk.'" It's a mile walk and we did walk it on the way but I wanted a ride home.  I guess being old is no excuse...so Nicole brought me on the Metro which actually turned out to be a longer walk below ground to get to the train than it would have been above ground.

And finally, Johnny emailed me about a restaurant I should go to 3 blocks away but when I got there, I noticed it's either closed for good or just for today.  So I had Japanese food instead. I chose the restaurant called "Akita" since I know what that means. The fact there were no Japanese patrons should have been a clue to choose another place but those other ones were crowded. I didn't want sushi so I continue not to know whether the French Japanese can make it.  The grilled salmon was fine as was the traditional Japanese ice cream.