
I'm terribly bored, and yearning for a trip. As I write this I'm held up in my small studio surrounded by an extremely lazy cat, Ella, and an equally lethargic dog, Louie. The District has been struck, yet again, by a monstrous snow storm which has rendered her completely unable to host any events, such as work, but has encouraged a noticeably lackadaisical shift in her residents. The novelty of idle weekdays filled with late brunch dates that bled into early cocktails has faded. Not that it hasn't been grand and almost overwhelmingly hedonistic, but one does eventually tire of the "easy life". Plus, with the lack of work, which equates to lack of pay, my shiftless animals and I are about to become homeless!
While sifting through the internet on one such slothful afternoon I came across the Hotel Particulier. Discretely located at the end of a small alley in Montmartre, 23 Avenue Junot, Hotel Particulier is exactly what I, Ella, and Louie need. It's a shame that I have no money for the trip. For now I will simply have to be satisfied with looking at the pictures and sipping some cheap champagne while one of my Edith Piaf records plays in the background.


































































