Evening at the Petit Palais

As "my regulars" know, alcohol and art is one of my favourite cocktails. So when I received an invitation to a champagne-fuelled private view of the permanent collection at the Petit Palais, well, they didn't have to ask me twice. Plus, to be honest, it's a museum I've never visited before. I've popped in to its bigger brother the Grand Palais more times than I care to remember but never actually made it across the road. My mistake. It's FAB. And the excellent thing about this kind of evening is that everywhere you turn, they've put a bar, so I was able to watch the sun go down in the garden while sipping a glass of bubbly. It was great to see some of my favourite Courbet - did you know that he was actually one of the first artists to work with a knife rather than a brush? Just like on "Paint Along with Nancy" - and the wonderful, wonderful "Grimaces et misères" by Pelez (yes, yes, I like my art miserable, I know). And, of course, the Impressionists, for those who like that sort of thing - in fact, I like it well enough, but have just seen too much too many times. An exquisite evening, from which I emerged feeling elegant, sophisticated, and a little bit wobbly. (For the full-size versions of the photos, click here).

Rhino75's Film Buff Teaser

Another classic movie moment, selflessly (my italics) recreated especially for YOU, dear reader, by the lovely Le Meg and myself - but which film is it?....

'Rokey

Karaoke. It's FAB, isn't it? I deserved 12 points, or douze points, for my version of "Never Can Say Goodbye" on Friday night. Was I channeling Thelma Houston or WHAT?? And then Micke and I blew the competition away with a version of "New York, New York" that would have had Frank Sinatra spinning in his grave crying for joy. Strangely, the rest of the crowd didn't seem to share this assessment. And before I knew it, it was 4 a.m., Micke and Bru had gone home and I was engrossed in conversation with a fellow performer - and then it all went black.

My Night With Jamel

Last night, I was in a bar just round the corner from Rhino Towers with three (count 'em) French comics. Jamel Debbouze, Omar and Fred. What are the odds of that happening? They were still there when we left at 2 a.m. Some of them were drinking champagne, we were drinking vodka. But we were laughing more. Am I or am I not a celebrity magnet? QED.

Crumbs

Behold, dear reader, the fruit of my loins weekend labours. Does that look a) deelish or b) deelish? (Take your time over that one). The occasion: Sandrine's birthday. The motivation: a rash promise on my part and a tea party on hers. The result: some rather medieval scenes chopping hazelnuts in the Rhino75 kitchen, a bit of a cake-tin crisis, and finally, this baby. Of course, it went down a storm, so much so, in fact, that a Navy SEAL was spotted taking some home. And the lovely Mrs. LOG suggested I open a salon de thé, or tearoom, on boulevard Beaumarchais (well, she's my friend, isn't she?). After tea, we hopped on the bus and sped across town to see this guy's one-man show "Imagine-toi" (Imagine Yourself). Now, when I first heard that we were going to see a clown/mime artist, I was naturally afraid. Spending my Sunday afternoon watching someone walk backwards in a wind (they always do that one, don't they?) with a red nose and checked trousers is not my idea of time well spent. How wrong can you be? It was absolutely fantastic. Funny, touching, and he even got one of our party up on stage to help him out. If you're in Paris and you get a chance to see this show, GO. By the end, I was starting to find the star of the show rather cute too - yes, Rhino75 was lusting after a sweaty clown again. In my defence, I was feeling a little feeble after a bit of a HUMDINGER of a party the night before, hosted by the lovely Kirsty. I'm still getting flashbacks of dancing to the BeeGees, Peter, Björn and John, talking Tina Arena, drinking vats of delicious Aussie wine and meeting some very fun people, including a direct descendant of William Wordsworth (classy, eh?). P.S. The Parisians among you should keep an eye out for the Freresbrothers. I went to see them on Friday night with Micke (they're friends of his) and they were great fun (and fantastic singers to boot).

Morning After

We were only meeting up for "a quiet drink and a chat," really. OK, maybe the choice of bar was instrumental in our downfall. The next happy coincidence was bumping into David and Carlos - who'd already got a bit of a thirst going. And then, suddenly (my italics), it was 2 a.m., the bar was closing and - through a vodka haze - it just seemed like a FANTASTIC idea and the most natural thing in the world to keep going. And going. On a school night. Which may be why this morning I wasn't the least bit surprised to be approached by this large pink rabbit on my way to work. Happens all the time. Honest. ;)