Enough with the catching up, already.

So we've been back in Paris for about a week--long enough to imbibe in more cider and crèpes at the Crèperie des Pecheurs, to go to an exhibit of Pierre et Gilles' work at the Jeu de Paume in the Tuileries, to wander around the inside of Notre Dame in the dark (they were showing a movie), to watch a black swan puff up threateningly at a groundskeeper in the Jardin des Plantes, and to take all sorts of cramped sweaty rides on the Metro.

Whew. Got all that? I figured I should fast-forward since we're leaving for Honfleur tomorrow and I'll be away from the blog until Wednesday, and then I'll have to catch up again, and, quite frankly, time's wingèd chariot keeps me hopping.
Pierre et Gilles: Oh, my, they are queer, outrageous, sacrilegious. It was one of those exhibits for which the gallery posted a warning about the potential to have one's sensibilities offended. How could I resist? Even more cool--the artists were at the gallery the day we visited, being followed around by a film crew. We joined the entourage and got to listen to them being interviewed. I will say that it's a bit odd to be in the presence of people who are in the same room as their self-portrait entitled Homo erectus (yes, imagine). But by that point, we'd gone through several rooms of their work; the male member had been, shall we say, demystified rather thoroughly. And still, my sensibilities hadn't been offended! I was disappointed.