I wake to a sky full of clouds at 10 AM. I don’t get much sleep during the week, so weekends are my days for sleeping in. Thankfully I don’t have class today. I’m rather tempted to stay in bed and relax for the rest of the day, but instead I dress quickly and head out the door with no particular destination in mind.

As I put on my iPod, my feet lead me down Vaugirard – the longest street in Paris. It goes past school, past my new apartment, and ends around Les Jardin Du Luxembourg (The Luxembourg Gardens). Along the way, I stop in at Piere Herme for a couple macarons. They will go perfectly with the the au lait (tea with milk) I plan on having later.

After walking down Vaugirard for an hour, I take a left on Rue Bonapart and end up at Saint Sulpice. The church square is filled with an art fair, so I wander leisurely through the booths. After admiring some of the work, I turn my attentions on a small outdoor café across the street from the square. It’s time for my tea.

Since it’s almost noon, I also order a salad Payasanne – ham, eggs, tomato, potatoes, lettuce and Chantal cheese. It comes with a perfectly emulsioned mustard vinaigrette that I pour sparingly over the lettuce. The couple sitting next to me can’t keep their lips off each other. To my right sits a father talking excitedly about tomorrow’s match with his young son. I only eat a third of my salad since I have to save my appetite for tonight. Bridget and Susan are cooking up an Indian feast – another food that’s difficult to find in Paris.

I gingerly open my box of macarons and select my favorite one – grapefruit. The bittersweet tang doesn’t exactly compliment the tea, so for number two, I opt for caramel with fleur de sel. Yep, that’s it. A perfect Paris moment. The pigeons peck absently for crumbs at my feet.

I finish the last dregs of my tea, step across the street and slip into the cool quietness of the church. It has almost the same layout and dimensions of Notre Dame, but it’s not as grand. Instead, it has a simple elegance accented with clear stained glass windows.

In the West arm of the church stand a gaggle of tourists. There stands a large obelisk with a golden line running down the center. The line crosses the center of the church and carried on to parts unknown. If you’re a Davinci Code fan, you’ll know he called this line the Rose Line. It is in fact a meridian made out of brass and dug into the floor in the 18^th century with the church’s permission by scientist of the French Observatory. The line was used to help define parameters of the earth’s orbit but by no means is it used the way it’s described in Dan Brown’s famous book. I find a small notice posted in the church referencing a certain “famous work of fiction”. The notice goes on to say, “This is not a vestige to a pagan temple and the meridian line has never been called the Rose Line.” I’m guessing they’ve had a lot of tourist here lately!

I buy a candle for two euros and light it under an alter to a Saint. I look down at my watch and realize it’s 1:30. Time to be going. I have important things to do yet today.

I walk back on Vaugirard with my iPod shuffling random songs into my ears. I stop at two shoe stores on the way back. I buy one pair of very comfortable, yet fashionable, black shoes and another pair of sparkly, high heeled thongs. It’s sale time in Paris where every store on every block marks down their merchandise for two weeks. Think Nordstrom Anniversary sale, yet it happens in ever store.

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