I have very little to say about NYC's Fete Paradiso, except that it was LOVELY and HEAVENLY and I could live there FOREVER AND EVER and still want to stay a little bit longer.
That's an annoying way to type a sentence, sorry. But you get the jist. I quite liked it--vintage French carnival rides on a small island off Manhattan, French tunes playing overhead, what wasn't to love? The carnival has been packed away, back to France, I believe, but I heard the owners hope to bring it back next fall, too. Until then, mon cher! (<--I don't actually know what that means, just that it's French and I love it.)
^ Lauren (and the fellow who is attempting to replace me in her heart) (fine, whom I also like very much). Lauren, fellow lover of all things delightfully French, tagged along with her man. I haven't yet mentioned Lauren on this blog of mine, but here she is. Lauren and I, well, I suppose you could say we're close. For example, we spent a significant portion of my sophomore year sharing my twin dorm bed (and our men have already been informed that when one couple visits the other, Lauren and I will be sharing the master bed, and they will be camping on the floor). As far as frolicking goes, she's a very dependable partner in crime.
^ Love him. Also, ugh, my hair. What a scraggly disaster.
^ At the beginning of the ride, before I remembered I am now officially at that age where any kind of swingy or spinny or roller-coastery motion makes me anxiously search for the path to the nearest trash can. There are photos of my face at the end of the ride, too, and they look nothing like this one.