We'll Always Have Paris

Bon jour, mes amies,
While shopping as I customarily do on my last full day of a trip, I found myself in Lafayette Maisons next to the Pierre Herme display counter full of macarons and no customers for them.  I did not wish to be rude, so I forced myself to buy a few, and now, since it's rather stormy outside, I am enjoying an afternoon tea.  Fresh macarons are sublime, but I'm not bringing any home because the stale ones are just cookies.  The first one was lemon and olive oil, and I know that sounds weird, but you will just have to come to Paris and try one, won't you.
This morning I finished off the last of that divine butter.  That's another thing I'm leaving behind because I seldom eat butter at home, and now I'm horribly spoiled anyway.  I am thawing the last of the baguette and will polish off the last of my fabulous cheese washed down by the cheap and yet extraordinarily good rose I pulled off the shelves of the grocery store.  I am not the only one who thinks the wine is good by the way.  Other roses just sat there.  My kind had continually to be restocked.
Shall we have a rose macaron? Or rather shall I eat one while you slaver in impotent envy?  It's good.  I like it less than the first one.  It's rather jammy tasting, and I might have been more excited had I not had the rose honey.
I metroed around more than I planned to because of the weather, but I started out this morning walking as I did my first full day here down toward the Seine on the long street that changes its name every few blocks.  I admired the handsome buildings and the bright flower boxes on the wrought iron balconies.  I puzzled, as I always do, at Parisian traffic.  There's a lot of it, mostly cars, but also some bikes and motorcycles.  I guess they don't do lanes in Paris.  The vehicles seem higgledy-piggledy to me, and the angry honking is constant.  Also cars apparently are allowed to stop in the middle of intersections, and a couple of times I have even seen drivers change their minds about turning and back up to go another way in traffic.  Don't be surprised, as I was, to find a motorcycle coming at you on the sidewalk.  I'd be terrified even to take a taxi here!
I believe it's time for a salted caramel macaron.  What do you think?  Mmm.  It has an interesting smokey taste of cooked sugar.  I think I prefer the fruity or citrus ones and the chocolate, but this one was certainly worth trying.
Crazy Guy never reappeared.  I hope that whatever his issue was he has resolved it instead of just finding a new place to be nuts.
Now I have to find places for my things and my purchases in my luggage and tomorrow morning wrestle my now heavier bags onto the metro and RER.  This is no joke either.  There are stairs--a lot of them--and crowds.  But every time I have been on the metro I've seen a lot of people with luggage, and the Parisians are used to the laden traveler.  And once I'm on the RER I can relax unless one of those "entertainers" hops on board.
Merci bien for reading about my trip.  I hope it inspires you to come here.
A bientot.
Update:  Metro and Airport Adventures!  The stairs at the metro station were even worse than I remembered, but I'd started early and took my time and was careful.  I had a valid ticket of course, but when it came time to enter the RER from the metro, I pushed my luggage through first.  Mistake!  The turnstyle wouldn't then let me in.  I tried again and again.  Then a kindly French gentlehomme offered to help by letting me come through with me on his Navigo pass.  He'd seen I had a ticket and wasn't trying to cheat.  A few people do--mostly large, fit young men who vault over the entry.
The same thing happened!  The man bid me crawl under the turn style.  I did and I was launched.  I got the express to Charles de Gaulle and was congratulating myself on missing the "entertainers" when they showed up.  It was a couple of rappers, who'd worked out a way of going from car to car.  People do give these folks money, so it must be worth it.
The airports have gone high tech and self service.  Now I have never before gotten one of those print your own boarding pass thingies to work for me, but this time I not only printed out my boarding pass, I printed out my luggage router tag.  Then I when I arrived at baggage drop off, I successfully scanned both pass and tag and sent my bag off.  Apparently my wonderment and delight were so palpable, an Air France employee got a chuckle out of it.
When I returned to the U.S. there was a machine at passport control, to scan my passport and take my picture.  Only I didn't know where to look so the picture is really weird.  One answers questions and then gets a receipt with the picture on it, which one eventually turns in.  Pretty cool.