Last couscous in Paris

Tomorrow I fly home and I'm ready, mostly. I miss Kevin - painfully- and I'm craving enchiladas. Of course on my last night I'm feeling very comfortable and know my way around this quartier better than I do in Dallas. Two French people have asked me for directions and I have made a friend. I friend I'm really going to miss.

Only one person has mentioned Bush to me, and that's a guy I have met twice now- the owner of the Cafe Montebello. He asked where I am from and then replied "oh, Texas. Zat is ze state of your president." I just shrugged and smiled and thought all sorts of clever things to say about the "state of my president" in English, but criticizing one's own country abroad just isn't done.

Tonight I dine at a Moroccan restaurant with a Swiss lady I met on the Hemingway tour today. It's my first departure from French food.

I love Paris and I'll miss the people here, their facile politesse and savoir vivre but to quote ma chere stupide Sabrina: I'll have it in my pocket when I get home.