these are a few of my favorite things

Gyms are an anomaly, but La Gym Suedoise  has an ever-expanding assembly of largely-uncoordinated persons in tights 

L'epicerie welcomes Dogs and bikes alike, but the bike garners more attention 

Medjool dates on every corner, casting spells, rendering you incapable of holding-true to the signed accord between you and your belly

Floor to ceiling windows in every room and across-the-courtyard neighbors whom unabashedly watch you sway and grand jeté to bermuda highway MMJ in the wee-hours of dawn

Only 4 hours away from Istanbul and grilled calamari in adequate abundance 

(long live the "!")

 

My Rendition of a young writer's plea in a time of need

Mandy,

Apologies for my silence with respect to your previous email, something or other along the lines of suggested writing exercises or difficult times...? Anyway, I'll have to read it more closely tomorrow.

In the meantime, I'm eager to let you know that I've decided to take the position! I'll spare you the details of the other, more lucrative offers that had me a tad addled this past week. Suffice it to say, I'm finally certain that Spruce is the right place for me. Beyond the fact that I'm wild about the magazine, I was utterly bewitched by the perfect placement of the door knob on the very door leading into your office. Feng Shui is dire for developing young writers like myself.

Ok then, so seeing as how it's already Thursday and I can only imagine you as tizzied as I am for next week, I suppose it best that we dive right into logistics.

That said, what time shall I be there on Monday morning?! I do hope it possible for you to take my 25-minute commute into consideration. 

Moving forward, there's also the dress code to consider. I typically pair jeans with a polo button-down and the like. Should it be necessary, however, then I suppose I can approach it from a more classic, wrinkle-free, Keith Olbermann angle. Or perhaps you prefer I bop to a more beatnik tune, given Spruce's L-train location...? I happen to own an authentic, "Where's Jimmy Hoffa?" sweatband from the 1970's, so I'm sure that the rest will thereafter fall into place.

Lastly, you mentioned that Spruce would provide meal tickets for two of the local delis but you truly needn't fuss. I'm an adamant fan of dinner leftovers and less enthusiastic about the conditions of most "make your own salad" bars. On the other hand, this does raise an important question: the office has a refrigerator, correct? I do hope so. I'm sure I needn't explain that this very detail dictates which genre of lunch might be more suitable as opposed to others, which would thereby determine what I decide to cook-up for the previous night's dinner, which could potentially, altogether alter one's entire Whole Foods experience. You understand, halibut versus challah, cashew butter versus curried beef. These things simply can't be overlooked.

Ok then, I think that about wraps it up for now but do let me know if there's anything pending on your end. 

I look forward to your reply and very much look forward to getting started! Don't hesitate to call anytime before 8 p.m. tonight or else 9 p.m. tomorrow evening. 

Again, many thanks,

Seth

Deyrolle! Devout vegans beware...

Deyrolle...taxidermy at its absolute finest!

...not that I would really know.  

Nevertheless, I stand firm that this place is simply stupendous and thus deserving of some really exceptional superlative, even when ranked against all of the other groovy, motif  'magasins' of the 6th arrondissement. 

The space itself is courtly and sleek and comes with a sense of humor. Tiger -maple and glass display cases line the walls and cloak the tables of the second floor, spotlighting a collection of methodically-arranged butterflies and other small-type specie: algae, crustacea and an insect-ae or two.  

And then, tigers and bears and lions and such !

... better than the zoo, which I find terribly depressing, reptile section aside. 

Each piece more masterfully done than the next, I simply couldn't resist a sneak stroke of Mustafa's nozzle, that which preserved a phenomenally credible appearance of moisture, thus conjuring images of an upwardly swooping tongue after a savory snack.  

And then there's the collection of quipster silk-screens... Any one would make a nifty birthday present for a beloved friend with a sense of humor and a good amount of available wall-space. 

And alas, behold the garden section. My mom would have a ball and even I, less the horticulture-type, found myself wanting to make a purchase from the selection of rustic pitch-forks and potting vessels.

Huff. Truth be told, I left the store with a sudden urge to skip home....also hoping that I, too, might one day own an adequately-sized,  Parisian-apartment in which to house a stuffed-zebra...or perhaps an ostrich at the very least...