Hallelujah, I have use of my computer again! This thing is my lifeline, I still don't know how I managed to forget the charger for it. But thank God for the blackberry - it gave me access to the internet, my emails, facebook, twitter, etc. Though I am now suffering from a mild case of Blackberry Thumb after a week of constant use. As a side note, anyone else find it funny that "blackberry thumb" has its own wikipedia page??

I wanted to post some pics taken during my trip, but for whatever reason, I can't find my camera cable. Nor can I find the library book I was supposed to return last week. Oops. I don't know what's up with me lately, I seem to be forgetting things à droite et à gauche. Maybe it's because I've been coming and going so much, who knows.

I took advantage of the nice weather today to finally go sign up for the gym. I was wanting to wait until I was done traveling into order to make it worthwhile financially, but then I remembered Karina 2 had given me a free month pass to a gym on St Germain. So I pulled out my old gym clothes and headed out the door. I made it about a block before I turned around and walked back - I felt absolutely ridiculous walking down the Boulevard Saint Michel in gym clothes and tennis shoes. Oh how things have changed from the days when I would wear my pyjamas out on a grocery run! Not that I'm any kind of fashionista, but the French have influenced me at least enough to keep me from wearing gym shoes in the streets.

So I went back and changed into my normal clothes and then off I went. Once I got there, I handed my pass to the woman at the front desk. She took one look at it and handed it right back to me, saying "This is not you". I was speechless for a second and then realized that in the picture I'd glued to the pass, I was wearing contacts, make-up and a nice outfit. And that in person, I had my hair pulled back in a ponytail, no make-up and glasses on. I actually do look like two different people. I assured her that was indeed me, but she wasn't having any of it - she accused me of trying to cheat and use the pass of my friend named Samantha. I finally pulled out my passport and to physically show her it was me - except I'm completely blond in my passport photo, so that didn't help much either. I was about ready to say "Sod it" when she finally waved me through. Without any indication of where the locker rooms are or what was on the three floors. I stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, looking around, and then went back to ask "Can you at least show me around a bit?" I got a death stare for a few seconds, but she finally picked up the phone and called one of the trainers down.

He showed me around the club, which was big, clean and had a lot of modern equipment. There was also a sauna and a hammam in the locker rooms. I've decided I'll keep going there for the next month, but after that, I'm not sure if I'll stick around or not. There's a much smaller, woman-only gym just half a block down the street and the equipment is older, but the staff a lot friendlier.

Either way, I'm just happy to have some kind of physical activity. I've always enjoyed working out and I could use some of the exercise-enduced endorphins right about now. It's just too bad it's going to come at a price - Parisian gyms are expensive! I wish I was a runner, especially since the Luxembourg gardens are right next door, but I'm not - I absolutely hate running. And rollerblading is going to become more and more complicated as the tourist season approches. So the gym it is - I figure with how low my rent is right now, I can justify this extra expense, at least for now.