My roommate is fascinated by my computer and the Internet. He doesn't seem to understand where one leaves off and the other begins. He keeps telling me when we discuss something (anything!) that I can find out about it in my computer.
Yesterday morning, when I placed my computer on a shelf below the dorm window in order to pick up a WiFi signal and connect to the Internet, he did not understand what I was doing. He asked me if I were connecting to the Internet through an American company. I tried to explain to him that the connection was local and therefore Parisian, but my explanation didn't seem to sink in.
He also tried out a few words of English on me this morning, "How are you?". Unfortunately, I couldn't understand his pronunciation, so he finally wrote the words out on a slip of paper.
The day started rainy and cold, but between morning rain showers I did manage to revisit the Pere Lachaise Cemetery, which I believe I mentioned in an earlier entry is where many famous people are buried. Here's a partial list:
Honore de Balzac, Sarah Bernhart, George Bizet, Luigi Cherubini, Frederic Chopin, Jean de la Fontaine, Moliere, Jim Morrison, Edith Pilaf, Marcel Proust, Gioachinno Rossini (Well, he's not buried there anymore, although his tomb is there. He was dug up and reburied in Italy.), James de Rothschild, and Oscar Wilde. Maria Callas also has a spot, although her body is also not buried there. Her body was cremated, and its ashes were spread over the Aegean Sea.
Here's a picture of Proust's tomb, whose works, I am ashamed to say, I have never read. His works are supposed to be required reading for all intellectuals, which I suppose explains why I am ignorant of them.
I snapped the following picture of one of the alleyways that leads through the cemetery. Notice that the leaves on the trees are changing color and many have already turned brown and fallen to the ground. This summer is so cold and dark that many trees have apparently been fooled into beginning their winter hibernation in August.
Naturally, I would have to come to Europe during the coldest summer in modern European history. Where is global warming when you need it?
Despite being an old insomniac, I slept well and long last night with two exceptions. I've noticed that my strange roommate has very fixed habits. He comes into the room at almost exactly 10:30 p.m., makes his bed, and spends about a half hour rearranging his possessions. Then he leaves. At about 11:45 he comes into the room again and spends about 15 minutes getting ready for bed. Because I had been very tired and had gone to bed early last night, he awoke me both times. Each time I got tired of waiting for him to finish so I could go back to sleep, so I got dressed and took the elevator to the ground floor. Luckily, I was able to go back to sleep both times, something that my insomnia often prevents when I am awakened in the night.
On the first trip downstairs I saw that my old Tour de France buddy was also back in the hostel. I call him that, because we both spent hours in front of one of the TV sets here in the hostel watching the final stages of the Tour de France.
Now it's time to go back upstairs to the room to see if I can post this using that free WiFi connection.
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