There’ll be a proper post once I get a good night’s sleep. In the meantime in-between time, some random notes. Bugged out to learn that Sofia Coppola got stuck for her purse at Le Bon Marché, the Bloomingdale’s-like department store on the Left Bank; not feeling the new Janet Jackson record Discipline, her third clunker in a row; equally disappointed in the new Lenny Kravitz, It Is Time for a Love Revolution, though I liked the ‘net-savvy campaign; watched Disappearing Acts for the umpteenth time this week for black romance movie pointers (better than – gasp – Love Jones?); don’t know if you’ve heard, but the French really and truly call the head of their government President Bling-Bling; and am I a sucker for turning off my set when reality TV got out of control instead of pitching my own show to MTV/VH1/whoever and selling out?

Slow week, what can I say? As the Sagittarius season ends today, I turned 37 on Tuesday and the wife treated me to dinner at La Cuisine in the posh 7th arrondissement. Random gifts: the complete 40 years of Rolling Stone magazine; an Amazon gift card; the first season DVD of Heroes (which I’ve never seen). I forget my age, I still feel… 31? Got my hair cornrowed. Sag Jay-Z and Beyoncé were in Paris weeks ago celebrating his 38th birthday. I hear Beyoncé took him out to L’Avenue for dinner and they caught the Crazy Horse cabaret show.

Still writing The Noir Album. President Sarkozy has a new girlfriend, model Carla Bruni, two months after getting divorced. Which is funny, because I joked with my wife two years ago that Sarko was spotted around town dating Naomi Campbell. Got a progress report real soon on my bum-rushing the comics industry. Singer Martina Topley-Bird’s people are lax filling me in on the release date to The Blue God, her next album produced by Danger Mouse. I’d love to run up to London and talk to her. (And where’s Tricky these days?)

President Nicolas Sarkozy issued a statement about his divorce today. This is one of those wormholes where I retreat from gettin all “cultural critic.” Sarkozy, he’s a real person. His relationship with his woman is, like, personal (even though it can’t possibly be). Sure it’s ironic he campaigned on some French Kennedys shit less than a year ago, but whatev as far as I’m concerned. I’ll expand more one day about his proposal to mandate DNA testing for French-African immigrants, but as far as him separating from his wife… SFW?

Huge transit strike today throughout Paris. Stayed my ass home for the most part; my baby boy’s nursery shut down for the day. Found out an old editor from Radar magazine, Alexandra Marshall, lives here now. We’ll hook up sooner than later. Gotta get my ass in gear editing Bronx Biannual Issue 3. I posted about starting with an edit of Greg Tate’s short story, but I haven’t looked at it since I took all the submissions to the Alps this summer. Here’s a tentative table of contents:

Darius James, The Zombie Monologues
Michael A. Gonzales, Requiem for a DJ
Niven Govinden, L’Histoire de Bexhill Baudelaire
Ernest Hardy, Benny: A Children’s Story
Nadia Khelfaoui, No Noirs Allowed
Demetria Lucas, Night of the Second Base Head
Courttia Newland, Spider-Man
Marcus Reeves, Stanley the Steamer
A. Tacuma Roeback, Torch
Keli Stewart, TBD
Greg Tate, Android Hugs Humanoid
Marcia Jones, I Am S/He