Why would there be English translations of each plaque, Alli... goodness, you can be dumb. Put. the pom-poms. down.

Trying to move through the Louvre without an English tape and headset proved to be one of the greatest little mishaps of this trip. Though I do suppose when one sense is inhibited, the others are all the more apt, forcing your brain to focus on the artistry of each piece rather than reading its brief history. Art appreciation at its finest.

Clearly, our weather was not of the utmost perfection, but being that it was what it was going to be, I enjoy the contrast and linear appeal. A bright, sharp blue would change the literal (obviously) and figurative tone and really, I like it just the way it is.

Interior view, shooting straight up.

Thinking fast, framing fast. Too much to do, too much to see.

There is absolutely no way one cannot spend an entire day at the Louvre.

Both of the above photos we taken outside a closed Maison fondee as we set out on our day trip to the Louvre, thus marking the beginning of day two.

Not only did we see a curious kitty perched at the window, but a gentleman, presumably the owner of the establishment, relaxing with a newspaper in the background. Because the natural light was not perfect, for once, I feel that photography wasn't the best medium to capture the scene. Sadly both Brad and I had left our oils, brushes, easels, berets and Bob Ross T-shirts at home.

One of my favorite photographs from the entire trip. Of course I was talking as I was shooting... again... so I have no idea what I've photographed. I'm hoping my aunt, or someone of equal and infinite knowledge of all things Parisian, can aid me in amending this embarrassment. I guess this is what I get for not "studying" abroad with the rest of the United States. Considering myself a decently educated human, I'm crossing my fingers in hopes that it isn't an unfamiliar angle of something I really should know.

Toto, I have a feeling we're not in New York anymore.

No seriously, Toto. I'm not kidding!

The wheelbarrow was invented in ancient Greece. Hm. That's all I got. Unknown as to why it marked the entrance to a theater. I just like silhouettes.

This interruption of chronological order is brought to you by day one's dinner. Though the above photos are from earlier in the same day, I wanted to post the last thing I remember from that night before I angelically crashed on my comfy Murphy bed, but there's too much yellow in it to deserve the top blog slot. SO here we are. Looking at duck confit (preserved duck leg) on a luscious bed of potatoes.

It's pretty much akin to what I looked like lying on my crisp, white sheets after I ate the entire thing. Man. What a crap first day.

You find out in life that there's nothing quite like sipping a hot espresso under a canopied table on a sidewalk, overlooking the Seine at a quaint cafe in Paris, France. The bit of rain that falls from the clouds, hugged between wisps of blue sky, does nothing but encourage a premature opening of umbrellas as you watch comfortable locals, unfamiliar tourists and well-read travelers create moving, living art. When the last drop is cleaned from your cup, you stand, slide past the German businessman rambling about stock exchanges auf Deutsch and turn to face the East. The sun is setting from behind you, reflecting light from every accessible piece of glass toward your face, toward your lens. The shutter closes and you release.

Though it looks like it wants to rain, the sky kindly resisted its urges to open up on our first day in Paris. Following Notre Dame, we trotted across the bridge to the Hôtel de Ville, which has been home to the city's administration since its construction in 1628*. Like any worthwhile political building, the Hôtel de Ville is wrought with plenty of scandals, murders, deaths, riots, stabbings (not fatal), fires, arrests and in my personal experience, gleeful community winter activities, such as ice skating.

*The actual site has been the location of the city's administration since 1357, but the original building was torn down by King Francis I to build the Hôtel de Ville in the 1530s. Correct, almost 100 years of planning and construction.

Hôtel de Ville.

Hercule? Like Hercule Poirot? The great, yet intolerable Agatha Christie detective?? I mean, if I were the only fictional character to ever receive an obituary in the New York Times, I think I would at least deserve to have a cargo ship named after me. Battleship, no. Cargo ship, yes.

Exterior wide shot #2.

The door to my apartment looks very similar.

What? Do I owe you money?

Oh... and color.

History, lines, detail.

Seriously 2000s??? The Parisians built Notre Dame almost 1,000 years ago and a) it's still standing and b) it's looking as gorgeous as ever. I don't even know how you go about constructing something like this without motors and electricity, let alone designing something so grand with complete knowledge that it will be built, more or less, by hand.

People always want to know where all the cowboys went, but personally, I'm much more interested in the architects' whereabouts.

So. many. candles.

Interior, Notre Dame.

Again, this is another "ignore-frame-and/or-lighting-and-please-note-the-content" photo. As they say, home is where the heart is and, of course, my heart is in one of those road cases. In case you were wondering, unexpectedly finding road cases for me is like Oreos unexpectedly finding milk. You totally can, well some people can, eat an Oreo without milk, but it is the definition of happiness when the two are united.

Following lunch, Brad and I ventured toward the Seine to properly introduce and reacquaint, depending on French travel experience, ourselves with Paris. This is one of two daytime/exterior/wide shots of Notre Dame. Strange that I didn't take more pictures as this landmark is nothing but history, lines and detail - three of my favorite things to photograph.

Annnd here we go, the greatest whirlwind of a trip ever. One city. One weekend. Paris.

Not a bad view from our first lunch. Architechture aside, really it's a wonder I could see through all the ham, cheese and champagne I was daintily shoving in my face. Oh if cameras could talk...

Quick fact? The Panthéon, located in the Latin Quarter, is the final resting place of such influentials* as Victor Hugo, Voltaire, Rousseau, Louis Braille, Louis Pasteur and Marie Curie. Not bad company to keep. I wonder if they play Scrabble.

*Influential is historically/technically/totally not a noun, but I like it. I really, really like it.

Performance at A*Muse fashion show during February's Fashion Week.

Preeeettty cool.

Performance at the A*Muse fashion show.

Performance at the A*Muse fashion show.

Mari J Brooklyn at the A*Muse fashion show in February.

The carny feel is really perfect for this shot.

Close-up of the runway at the A*Muse fashion show back in February.

Backstage at the A*Muse fashion show in February.

One of the coolest things about stopping time as a profession is that you are very well aware that patience and knack for anticipation are amongst two of the most important characteristics you must possess. While a shot like this doesn't require an incredibly apt sense of timing, it does require you to wait 364 days for these three minutes to occur again. I had this shot planned since I was part of the media frenzy when Stump won last year, and you guessed it, pictured below is that same nutty media hullabaloo - pretty much the exact same press people too. A much tamer shot from above, it still isn't exactly what I wanted. I thought it was great in frame, but upon further review, it's not perfect. Luckily for me, much like Bill Murray's experiences in Groundhog Day, this exact shot will occur again in 340+ days and I shall finally have the press shot I wanted from 2009 in 2011.

And as always, a wonderfully ecstatic thank you to Mr. Parsaca for providing me the opportunity to repeat said experience year after year and for indulging me with enough content and unique thought processes that I'm sure I will never blog in a timely fashion ever again.

That's all from Westminster 2010, folks! See you next year!

Photo: Media madness on the Garden floor, surrounding one little Scottish Terrier named Sadie.

I love these shots. The world's largest media outlets are represented around this dog, drooling over front-page bylines and all Sadie, the Scottish Terrier who won Best in Show, wants is that treat. That's my girl.

I've been waiting my entire life (well, that's an exaggeration) to shoot an event of some kind with Hondros (Canon shooter kneeling in tan corduroy... what a dreamboat *sigh*). Whatever beef anyone may have with the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show, we obviously should recognize what is truly of value here: this lovely social event brought two star-crossed professionals together at long last. Very important. Monumental milestone in my career, even.

Ohhhh gooodness. C. Hondros, T. Parsaca, the Garden, puppies and take-out orecchiette with sausage and broccoli rabe from Lugo (mm! mmm! mmmm!) in the arena production office? All in one night? Let me begin to sing you a song:

Gaaaardennn, I'm at the Gaaaaarrrrdennnn,
And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek...
When I'm at the Garden each and evvvveerrry weeeek!

Photo: Sadie, the darling Scottish Terrier who won Best in Show this year.

Deliberating.

Opening lap for Best in Show pups and their trainers. Very rock & roll.

Who would have guessed that two mutt-loving girls from everyone's favorite organization (PeTA for those too annoyed to read the sign) would looovvve to pay huge fines and spend some time in jail in the middle of a snowy February because they wanted to "attend" the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show.

Now wait a minute ladies. I see where you are trying to make this stretch of an argument, but if you had paid just the slightest bit of attention to your surroundings, you would have noticed that these people spend more time and money on their dogs' hair, nails, hygiene and medical needs than they do on their own. I guarantee their dogs' diets are expensive, regimented and ten times healthier than anything they would ever care to eat. And most obvious? Why can't you see that these people love their dogs more than they love their own children! Children are animals too! You focus on the diminishing chances of shelter dogs? Shelter dogs?! Like these people would ever own a shelter dog. Why are you not out on that floor fighting for the rights of every Kennel Club dog owner with a neglected child! Money! Does not! Buy love!!!

All in jest, of course, all in jest, but what a dumb thing to do, girls. How about you spend some time and money not protesting, not paying fines and not making people hate you for silly reasons and do something productive. What, you ask? I don't know, cooking classes. Look at Rachael Ray! She has her own dog food brand now. I'm sure it's very healthy for dogs. I bet even shelter dogs could eat it.

And please, please don't get me wrong. Dogs are great. My dog was the coolest animal ever and I frickin' loved him. I mean heck, he used to dance around to Van Morrison ("Glad Tidings" was his jam) with me when I came home from school. What more could you want from a dog - or a human for that matter?

So as Forrest Gump would say, "And that's all I have to say about that."

Hey there, Hooch. Where's your pal, Turner? For that matter, where's the drool?? I must say you've been looking a little bit apprehensive lately... something on your mind?

Dogue de Bordeaux.

"I'm the master of fright!
And a demon of light!
And I'll scare you right out of your pants!"

Can't really see Burton's bib, but it has Jack the Pumpkin King on it. Get it? Burton? Tim Burton? Nightmare Before Christmas?

Quite the terror, this little one.

And the winner for best passed-out pooch goes to... this fella!

The Westminster Dog Show is to dogs as the UCA Finals in Disney World is to the country's best cheerleading teams. Yes, yes... I said it.

Back in my sponge-roller, glitter and no-high-school-restriction-on-skirt-length days, I looked a lot like this passed-out pup during those multi-day competitions. Stuffed dragon included.

Passing-out pooch #2.

Passed-out pooch #3

Yes! Yes! Yes! Ladies and gents, leprechauns and tooth fairies! It is everyone's favorite time of year on this blog: The Westminster Dog Show!

Forgetting that this show actually took place a number of days ago, continuing in my pattern of weekly delay, please stick around for all of the fun that is already posted and that which will be posted in the next few days.

Honestly one of the most entertaining events, not only at MSG, but EVER.

Snapshot!

"Ugh. UGGS. I can't even look at them."

Anthony Bourdain and Eric Ripert taping the first episode of "Anthony Bourdain and Eric Ripert: Turn & Burn" with special guest Mario Batali at the Sirius XM studio in New York on February 18, 2010.

Anthony Bourdain and Eric Ripert taping the first episode "Anthony Bourdain and Eric Ripert: Turn & Burn" at the Sirius XM studio in New York on February 18, 2010.

(L-R) Mario Batali, Eric Ripert and Anthony Bourdain visit the Sirius XM Radio studio in New York for the first taping of "Anthony Bourdain and Eric Ripert: Turn & Burn" on February 18, 2010.