Kevin Costner is vanilla hot

So joining the American Library in Paris was the best investment I’ve made so far. It cost a refundable 60 Euro fee and a four-month membership for 47 Euros. A lot for a poor nanny, but can you put a price on virtually unlimited old-fashioned entertainment and free Wi-Fi? If I could walk to the place I would be in pure heaven. Unfortunately, it’s on the opposite side of Paris, right next to the Eiffel Tower. But it’s well worth the 45 minute trip to walk in and find an oasis of quiet. I love libraries. They’re as comforting to me as a cup of hot chamomile tea. Maybe it’s because I spent most of my days after school playing in my mom’s library waiting for her to finish work and drive us home.

I’m convinced that’s why I flourished in my English classes throughout school: writing, vocabulary, spelling, random knowledge, knowing how to make a toy out of a pig’s bladder (thank you Laura Ingalls Wilder) all came out of those afternoons. I would park my bottom in the little school chairs in a quiet corner and read whatever book tickled my fancy. I’m pretty sure I worked my way through most of the alphabet before I began middle school. How different would I be if I had watched Nickelodeon or played some inane Mario Brothers video game? Being a shy bookworm is probably the best thing that ever happened to me. I’m no good at sports and ballet was much too strict, so thank god I had the smarts to fall back on. Sure, I do regret missing some spectacular vista views on family road trips. My mom would be prodding me in the backseat, saying “Lindsey, there’s the Grand Canyon. There’s the mountains of Colorado. We’re crossing the state line into West Virginia…” and I’d just be completely zoned out reading the Chronicles of Narnia. But who else can claim to have read the entire series of Anne of Green Gables in a Chevy Astro van in two weeks?

So, yeah. I love the library. I need to volunteer there, just to get me out of the house on rainy days and feel like I’m contributing to society in some way. Plus nothing would make me happier than to make some old, cultured ex-pat friends. I mean, a dinner party with fifty-year-old professors on a Friday night sounds like sheer bliss right now. My party girl au pair friends have discovered the “Sixth Street” (sorry, Austin reference) of Paris…it’s Bastille. A bunch of narrow alleys jam-packed with Australian bars, latino clubs, Guidos, tourists, and the ever-present mojito special. What’s up with Parisians loving mojitos? I think they’re great poolside on a sunny day, but on a freezing winter night? Yech, give me a vin chaud any day.

I’m starting to get the reputation of the “party pooper.” Didn’t take long. Factor in frigid temperatures, no money, expensive drinks, lecherous guys, metro closing times, and a long-ass walk home…and you’ve got Lindsey pooping out every time. Riding the night bus home with a bunch of sketchy Arab dudes at 3am does not a glamorous night make. Somehow, Kacy and Annabel are able to score free drinks, dance at clubs, stay out until 6am, and get rides home with strange men…all without getting raped! More power to them. Although the last time I left Kacy at a club she somehow lost her scarf, jacket, and shoes…so there is a price to pay.

So the library. It’s great. Their DVD selection is pretty shitty, but I’ve lowered my standards and will watch pretty much anything except the full season of 24 or Grey’s Anatomy. I just finished watching Mr. Brooks (starring Kevin Costner) and it was surprisingly not bad. The violence was too much, but I was very much intrigued by Kev’s character, and it was set in Portland, Oregon. Kevin Costner…man. He is dreamy. He’s the kind of attractiveness that is so bland and clean that you kind of forget about him, but then he puts on tortoiseshell glasses and a cozy cashmere sweater and I just want to walk with him in the park with our Golden Retriever dog named Lucy and then return home to our 1850s farmhouse in upstate New York. Yup, that’s my sexual fantasy these days. Getting domestic in the country, cooking apple pies, and knitting hats out of alpaca yarn.