"So don't arouse my anger... FOOL"

The birthday celebration FINALLY went down last night (I know, I know, this is the birthday that WOULD. NOT. DIE.) at a fun bar in the 11th. After a champagne pre-game and then enough drinks to get me to accept a dance-off challenge on a chair (ok, that's like 2 drinks, I'm always up for dancing at high elevations), I woke up an hour ago with my hair plastered across my face and my eye makeup on my chin.

Say it with me now: claaaass-y.

I would like to send a birthday shout-out to Pierre, who was also celebrating his birthday last night at the Mecano, and who looked like someone beat his face as a birthday surprise. I was drunk enough to ask him why he had so many stitches, but was too distracted by the 90's playlist (Gangsta's Paradise, yesss...) to care.

I'm slowly willing myself to get in the shower because this afternoon's adventures include a visit to the Picasso museum (it's free museum Sunday, people!) and I obviously can't wear flannel pajamas to the Marais, even if they are from Victoria's Secret.

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