Miss Me?

Please accept my apologies for neglecting this blog for so many weeks. As you’ll soon learn, I’ve been busy. In fact, if you’ve been reading the Paris newspapers, you may already know about the amazing events that have taken place here in the past month. But I doubt you ever suspected that I was involved.

I’ve been in Paris since the beginning of July. The official purpose of the visit (in other words, the explanation I gave my parents) was a summer of French classes and Parisian culture. A month has passed, and my French is still as terrible as ever. (I was recently told I sound like a dimwitted troglodyte.) I did managed to visit the Louvre once, but it was in the dead of night and too dark to appreciate the art. (More on that later, of course.)

To be perfectly honest, I never intended to spend my summer in classrooms and museums. I came to Paris with two goals in mind: Buy some fabulous shoes and infiltrate the Perforating Mexicans. Not only did I manage to accomplish both goals, I stumbled upon a remarkable sixty-year-old mystery in the process. And I’m thrilled to report that I solved it on my own. (OK, I had a little help.)

I know it’s a bit cruel to leave you in suspense, but my mind is still reeling from all the excitement, and I can’t possibly write the whole tale down at once. Take my word for it, though. This is a story worth waiting for. (Don’t worry, it won’t take another month.)