Chapter 3
Frida Rodriguez ... En Route
October 30, 1991
Paris, France
Bonjour Perky Kate!
I come to you once again from midnight and my rooftop view. Sometimes I still can’t believe I’m in Paris – that’s why I end up wide awake half the night waiting for dawn so I can go out and make more discoveries. It’s not like L.A. where you need a car to go everywhere – it’s fun to walk here. Today Kirby and I accidentally stumbled on one of those risqué art films at Le Champo – no need for subtitles there! – followed by overindulgence at a kebab shop in the Saint-Michel district. And the Metro! It’s like the transporter in Star Trek – beam me to the Moulin Rouge, Scotty! Tomorrow we’re going to decide whether or not we approve of the Louvre Pyramid and the Centre Pompidou.
Merci for the book and the discount – no biggie about reading Martha before you sent her. I’m sitting here on my bed with a croissant and a glass of Beaujolais and I’ve already spilled wine on the cover and there’s butter soaked through the introduction. No one does butter like the French – parfait!
So what’s Frida Rodriguez doing in Paris besides not sleeping? She’s en route to her future! It started last year when I read that Time article about twentysomethings. The part about mass apathy got to me and when that writer called us the New Petulants I had an epiphany. Not even twenty-five and I was on my fourth writing job – and I’d whined about every one of them! Even worse, the aforementioned fourth job was with West Coast Commerce disguising advertorials as financial news. I blame that one on my fleeting Ayn Rand phase in college. By the way – “Greed is good” is the stupidest thing a person can say!
Anyway I’m thinking – seriously Frida! Why’d you even bother getting a journalism degree? That’s when it hit me. Get out of L.A. and pursue my dream of writing something meaningful. So I saved up my money and came to Paris – just like Martha back in her day – to see the world and be close to all the history in the making around here. Is this letter sounding like the unabridged version of a personal ad in the back of the L.A. Times ? Single brownish-whitish girl, nonsmoking, loves kebabs and long walks on the beach, tired of yuppies and New Petulance and wants to do something of consequence before she wakes up one day and she’s thirty and it’s too late!
How’s that for a slapdash answer to your questions? My problem is I can type on my mom’s old très chic portable Hermes Rocket faster than I can think. Well one of my problems. To spend that credit – what are you reading right now that you absolutely LOVE ? Surprise me! I play this game with my dad when we go to bookstores. We tell them a little about ourselves and then rate the store by the surprise.
Au revoir!
Frida
P.S. Nothing wrong with being Perky Peggy. I’ll take it over Gloomy Gertie any day.
P.S. Deux. Adding Paris, I’ve been to thirty-six different bookstores in my life so far, mostly in L.A. and Mexico.
P.S. Trois. I almost forgot to explain the moules marinières competition. Fellow American Kirby Olsson is on an exchange from the University of Washington at l’école nationale supérieure d’architecture de Paris-Belleville – how’s that for a mouthful! He lives here at the hotel too and I discovered he’s a Fellow Glutton. I told him about some disappointing moules marinières I had and he said he heard where to get good ones but it turned out they were just decent and that set off our contest. We each chose five restaurants and may the best moules marinières win! Kirby hit on to-die-for at Chez Lisette – a cozy bistro a few blocks from the hotel with a view of the Seine to boot – and that is how I wound up ordering Martha from his favorite bookstore. You’re officially added to my list but I’ll wait to rate you until I receive my surprise. No pressure!