Friday, December 4, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
WoW
A taste for irony has kept more hearts from breaking than a sense of humor, for it takes irony to appreciate the joke which is on oneself.
- Jessamyn West
- Jessamyn West
Friday, November 20, 2009
While I'm on the subject...
...here's another one I just stumbled across. This one I apparently wrote for my eighth grade English class. No prizes for this one but it's pretty funny.
POINT OF VIEW
Imagine yourself in my paws,
I don't think you understand.
You think I have a perfect life,
It's really not so grand.
I'd like to start by telling you,
The food you give me's sick.
It's old and hard and terrible.
I'd rather eat a stick.
In the winter when it's cold,
You make me sleep outside.
I'd be happy on the couch
Where I do no freeze my hide.
I'm getting kind of chubby,
You don't take me for a walk.
You just leave me on the porch,
And I can't get through the lock.
I wish that I could tell you
All the things you put me though.
I don't think I deserve it,
What did I ever do to you?
- 14 year-old Sacha (almost)
September 8, 1997
POINT OF VIEW
Imagine yourself in my paws,
I don't think you understand.
You think I have a perfect life,
It's really not so grand.
I'd like to start by telling you,
The food you give me's sick.
It's old and hard and terrible.
I'd rather eat a stick.
In the winter when it's cold,
You make me sleep outside.
I'd be happy on the couch
Where I do no freeze my hide.
I'm getting kind of chubby,
You don't take me for a walk.
You just leave me on the porch,
And I can't get through the lock.
I wish that I could tell you
All the things you put me though.
I don't think I deserve it,
What did I ever do to you?
- 14 year-old Sacha (almost)
September 8, 1997
Just because...
...my blog would not be complete without it. I wrote this poem in third grade for the Reflections contest at my elementary school. Like most of my better works, I completed it the night before it was due. It ended up winning 1st prize in the writing category for grades 3 through 6.
MAGIC COLORS
Imagine if the moon was red,
And said "goodnight" when you went to bed.
Imagine if the stars were green,
And didn't shine when you were mean.
Imagine if the sun was brown,
And never smiled, it just frowned.
Imagine if the clouds were gold,
And when it snowed, it wasn't cold.
Imagine if the snow was black,
And when it hit the ground it cracked.
Imagine if the earth was blue,
And every day it sang to you.
- 9 year-old Sacha
January 14, 1993
MAGIC COLORS
Imagine if the moon was red,
And said "goodnight" when you went to bed.
Imagine if the stars were green,
And didn't shine when you were mean.
Imagine if the sun was brown,
And never smiled, it just frowned.
Imagine if the clouds were gold,
And when it snowed, it wasn't cold.
Imagine if the snow was black,
And when it hit the ground it cracked.
Imagine if the earth was blue,
And every day it sang to you.
- 9 year-old Sacha
January 14, 1993
Monday, November 2, 2009
WoW
Learn as much by writing as by reading.
- Lord Acton
One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory.
- Rita Mae Brown
Drive-in banks were established so most of the cars today could see their real owners.
- E. Joseph Cossman
True friends are those who really know you but love you anyway.
- Edna Buchanan
We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police.
- Jeff Marder
If you ever start feeling like you have the goofiest, craziest, most dysfunctional family in the world, all you have to do is go to a state fair. Because five minutes at the fair, you'll be going, 'you know, we're alright. We are dang near royalty.'
- Jeff Foxworthy
- Lord Acton
One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory.
- Rita Mae Brown
Drive-in banks were established so most of the cars today could see their real owners.
- E. Joseph Cossman
True friends are those who really know you but love you anyway.
- Edna Buchanan
We live in an age when pizza gets to your home before the police.
- Jeff Marder
If you ever start feeling like you have the goofiest, craziest, most dysfunctional family in the world, all you have to do is go to a state fair. Because five minutes at the fair, you'll be going, 'you know, we're alright. We are dang near royalty.'
- Jeff Foxworthy
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Really?!
Bum on a sidewalk by the Gateway: Excuse me sir, you wouldn't happen to have three dollars and ninety-five cents?
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
WoW
Somewhere on this globe, every ten seconds, there is a woman giving birth to a child. She must be found and stopped.
- Sam Levenson
I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.
- Douglas Adams
She got her looks from her father. He's a plastic surgeon.
- Groucho Marx
The great thing about democracy is that it gives every voter a chance to do something stupid.
- Art Spander
- Sam Levenson
I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.
- Douglas Adams
She got her looks from her father. He's a plastic surgeon.
- Groucho Marx
The great thing about democracy is that it gives every voter a chance to do something stupid.
- Art Spander
Sunday, October 4, 2009
P.S.
There comes a time in a rare man's life, when you realize that that time will likely never come in the life of most others.
-SM
-SM
Hopeful Anticipation
What ever happened to logic, reason, relativity, and progressive thought? The general public seems to be void of these things. Co-operative competition has seemingly disappeared, yet destructive competition is abundant in our lives. Hypercompetitiveness is all too common. Why did "right" and "wrong" become so personal? I don't understand why people so aggressively argue over matters of opinion. And too often over the most trivial things. So much energy is being wasted on negative emotion.
How many times a week do you expose yourself to unnecessary, avoidable stress-evoking situations? If it's any more than zero, take the time to ask yourself why.
How many times a week do you expose yourself to unnecessary, avoidable stress-evoking situations? If it's any more than zero, take the time to ask yourself why.
Really?!
Person in front of me in line at the grocery store just after midnight. Contents in basket: laxatives and sleeping pills.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
WoW
The more I want to get something done, the less I call it work.
- Richard Bach
The distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success.
- Bruce Feirstein
Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.
- Albert Einstein
Hunting sober is like fishing... sober.
- Uncle Jimbo
Leave it to a girl to take the fun out of sex discrimination.
- Bill Watterson
If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?
- Abraham Lincoln
- Richard Bach
The distance between insanity and genius is measured only by success.
- Bruce Feirstein
Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.
- Albert Einstein
Hunting sober is like fishing... sober.
- Uncle Jimbo
Leave it to a girl to take the fun out of sex discrimination.
- Bill Watterson
If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?
- Abraham Lincoln
Friday, September 11, 2009
Accorded Something Strange
A couple weeks ago, I was up in Paris taking care of some last minute business. I stayed at my cousin's the first night. We went out to a pretty up-scale club called the Pacha. I had never been to a club like this before. I won't get into the details but I will say that not much of anything is taboo there. It was a relatively calm night for us in terms of alcohol consumption but it was quite the experience. We got home around 5 a.m. and my cousin went straight to work. I plugged my phone into my computer to charge, and crashed.
I woke up around noon. My cousin got home at about the same time. We made a last minute decision to go visit some girls that we had met at the Pacha. I had a train to catch at 10 p.m. and we had nothing better planned for the afternoon and evening. 9 o'clock rolled around and we were about an hour away from the station. We booked it. I got to the station with 2 minutes to spare. As I was running to catch my train, the zipper on my backpack gave out and my laptop fell out along with a few other things. I put my bag down and stuffed everything back in. The zipper needed some serious attention that I didn't have time for so I picked up the jumbled mess and ran to my train. No dice. I think I heard it laughing at me as it faded away into the night. I cursed at my backpack for a little then parked my ass on the nearest bench to put it all back together.
Once I was back in business I went to the ticket counter to get a ticket for the next train. The guy behind the counter smiled regrettably and told me that I had just missed the last one. So I did what I had to and bought a ticket for the 7:30 train the next morning. I started to walk aimlessly as I contemplated my next move. It was too late to call anyone that otherwise would have been happy to help me out. I seriously considered sleeping at the station but decided that I was too tired and needed a bed. I was in no mood to search for a hotel, much less pay for one, so I called my cousin. He told me I was welcome to stay at their place. Despite the hour and a half it would take me to get there using public transportation, I agreed.
It took me until I got there to be truly happy with my decision. There's nothing quite like a bed in a familiar place when you've been traveling for two months, even if it's only for a few hours. Before hitting the hay, I got out my computer so that I could charge my phone. Problem: my USB cord was missing. I had very little battery and I needed the alarm. I took everything out of my bag, shook it all around and looked in every little crevice. No luck. It must have fallen out of my bag at the train station. There wasn't a whole lot I could do but hope that my phone would last through the night. I put everything back in my bag, set the alarm on my phone for 5:15, and fell asleep.
About four hours later I slowly woke up on my own. I lazily tilted my head to look up at the wall clock. It was 5:10. I was lying on my back. I reached for my phone on the bedside table with my left hand. It was dead. As I put it back down I realized that there was something in my right hand. I slowly lifted it up in disbelief. I paused for a moment and stared blankly up at my USB cord.
I woke up around noon. My cousin got home at about the same time. We made a last minute decision to go visit some girls that we had met at the Pacha. I had a train to catch at 10 p.m. and we had nothing better planned for the afternoon and evening. 9 o'clock rolled around and we were about an hour away from the station. We booked it. I got to the station with 2 minutes to spare. As I was running to catch my train, the zipper on my backpack gave out and my laptop fell out along with a few other things. I put my bag down and stuffed everything back in. The zipper needed some serious attention that I didn't have time for so I picked up the jumbled mess and ran to my train. No dice. I think I heard it laughing at me as it faded away into the night. I cursed at my backpack for a little then parked my ass on the nearest bench to put it all back together.
Once I was back in business I went to the ticket counter to get a ticket for the next train. The guy behind the counter smiled regrettably and told me that I had just missed the last one. So I did what I had to and bought a ticket for the 7:30 train the next morning. I started to walk aimlessly as I contemplated my next move. It was too late to call anyone that otherwise would have been happy to help me out. I seriously considered sleeping at the station but decided that I was too tired and needed a bed. I was in no mood to search for a hotel, much less pay for one, so I called my cousin. He told me I was welcome to stay at their place. Despite the hour and a half it would take me to get there using public transportation, I agreed.
It took me until I got there to be truly happy with my decision. There's nothing quite like a bed in a familiar place when you've been traveling for two months, even if it's only for a few hours. Before hitting the hay, I got out my computer so that I could charge my phone. Problem: my USB cord was missing. I had very little battery and I needed the alarm. I took everything out of my bag, shook it all around and looked in every little crevice. No luck. It must have fallen out of my bag at the train station. There wasn't a whole lot I could do but hope that my phone would last through the night. I put everything back in my bag, set the alarm on my phone for 5:15, and fell asleep.
About four hours later I slowly woke up on my own. I lazily tilted my head to look up at the wall clock. It was 5:10. I was lying on my back. I reached for my phone on the bedside table with my left hand. It was dead. As I put it back down I realized that there was something in my right hand. I slowly lifted it up in disbelief. I paused for a moment and stared blankly up at my USB cord.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Got any change?!
This morning on my way back to my host family's house I stopped by the boulangerie to get a croissant. The going rate was 1.15€. I gave the lady 1.20€. She gave me my croissant and 1.05€ back.
Just this afternoon I was at the train station waiting for my train to Paris. I walked up to a vending machine to get a pack of M&M's and a Coke. They were 2€ each (rip off). I noticed there was already a 1€ credit in the machine. I put two 2€ coins in anyway because that's all I had. I punched in 22 and 66 for my M&M's and Coke, respectively. I picked up my goodies behind that annoying metal flap thing and my change out of the coin return. When I looked at the change, there was 1.70€.
Just this afternoon I was at the train station waiting for my train to Paris. I walked up to a vending machine to get a pack of M&M's and a Coke. They were 2€ each (rip off). I noticed there was already a 1€ credit in the machine. I put two 2€ coins in anyway because that's all I had. I punched in 22 and 66 for my M&M's and Coke, respectively. I picked up my goodies behind that annoying metal flap thing and my change out of the coin return. When I looked at the change, there was 1.70€.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Really?!
So I was getting off the freeway today and I noticed a lady standing next to a suitcase and a duffel bag up ahead a the first intersection. She was diligently reading what looked to be a map (from far away), as if she was about to start hitchhiking but she wasn't quite sure which direction to ask for yet. I jokingly thought to myself, "stupid woman is doing a sudoku on the side of a busy road." In passing, I realized that actually was what she was doing.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
WoW
Those who can laugh without cause have either found the true meaning of happiness or have gone stark raving mad.
- Norm Papernick
A fine quotation is a diamond on the finger of a man of wit, and a pebble in the hand of a fool.
- Joseph Roux
The skill of writing is to create a context in which other people can think.
- Edwin Schlossberg
If at first you don't succeed, find out if the loser gets anything.
- Bill Lyon
Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.
- Carl Jung
If a thing isn't worth saying, you sing it.
- Pierre Beaumarchais
- Norm Papernick
A fine quotation is a diamond on the finger of a man of wit, and a pebble in the hand of a fool.
- Joseph Roux
The skill of writing is to create a context in which other people can think.
- Edwin Schlossberg
If at first you don't succeed, find out if the loser gets anything.
- Bill Lyon
Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.
- Carl Jung
If a thing isn't worth saying, you sing it.
- Pierre Beaumarchais
Friday, September 4, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Birthday Wishlist
1. Sailor Jerry and Coke
2. Hookah (White Grape Shisha)
3. Some sort of belated birthday bash
4. 6-pack of Wasatch White Label white ale
5. HTC Touch Diamond 2
6. A nice muddler
7. The resulting Mojito
8. Kombucha (Grape AND Ginger Berry)
2. Hookah (White Grape Shisha)
3. Some sort of belated birthday bash
4. 6-pack of Wasatch White Label white ale
5. HTC Touch Diamond 2
6. A nice muddler
7. The resulting Mojito
8. Kombucha (Grape AND Ginger Berry)
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
WoW (formerly Words of Wisdom)
Wit makes its own welcome, and levels all distinctions. No dignity, no learning, no force of character, can make any stand against good wit.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Monday, August 24, 2009
And I'm spent.
This is what I've done last week:
Meschers -> Limoges by train (203 km)
Limoges -> Annecy by car (487 km)
Annecy -> Frejus by car (428 km)
Frejus -> Meschers by train (816 km).
And this what I'm doing this week (all by train): Meschers -> Tours (264 km)
Tours -> Paris (225 km)
Paris -> Limoges (379 km)
Limoges -> Paris (379 km)
Paris -> Meschers (488 km)
Can't wait to come home!
Meschers -> Limoges by train (203 km)
Limoges -> Annecy by car (487 km)
Annecy -> Frejus by car (428 km)
Frejus -> Meschers by train (816 km).
And this what I'm doing this week (all by train): Meschers -> Tours (264 km)
Tours -> Paris (225 km)
Paris -> Limoges (379 km)
Limoges -> Paris (379 km)
Paris -> Meschers (488 km)
Can't wait to come home!
Monday, August 17, 2009
More Words of Wisdom
An opinion should be the result of thought, not a substitute for it.
-Jef Mallett
Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious.
-Brendan Gill
-Jef Mallett
Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious.
-Brendan Gill
Sneak Preview
I continue to gather priceless information on the French. Once I get over my speechlessness and gather my thoughts, I will write my greatest, most awesome entry ever.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Calories
Coke is bad for you; it makes you fat. So Diet Coke is bad for you and doesn't make you fat? The original diet products were much more a marketing scheme than an answer to a growing health concern. So what's the difference between Coke and Diet Coke? Well aside from the relatively unknown fact that they use entirely different formulas, the main difference is the substitution of high fructose corn syrup in Coke with other sweeteners, primarily aspartame, in Diet Coke. And why doesn't Diet Coke have any calories? Because high fructose corn syrup is the only ingredient in Coke that contains calories.
Does anybody else ever wonder how drinking one can of garbage could possibly be less fattening or "better for you" than drinking a can of a different garbage? Well, I'm curious. Aside from a few people who pick Diet Coke because they somehow like the taste better, the bulk of diet soda drinkers choose "diet" because they actually believe it's better for them. Seriously?! That's about as ignorant as choosing chewing tobacco over cigarettes for the same reason. But people do it anyway because it's "diet" and has no calories. Which makes me wonder, what the hell is a calorie anyway? (Don't worry, I looked it up.) A calorie in food is just a unit for measuring energy. Seems kind of ridiculous. We all know that eating a small McDonalds fries containing 220 calories is less healthy than eating a pear and a banana, which together, also contain 220 calories. But Diet Coke is obviously no better for you than regular Coke and they vary greatly in calories. So why is the same word still used to describe different kinds of energy?
Conclusion: The word calorie has somehow become a gross over-generalization of many different energy values contained in food. Most people appear to be oblivious to this and continue to be mislead by labels which, strangely enough, are required on almost all food products. Considering this is a rather serious health issue and affects anyone exposed to packaged foods, it seems like some effort should have been made to categorize or specify the different values of food energy which collectively remain described by this one deceptive word. Just sayin'.
Does anybody else ever wonder how drinking one can of garbage could possibly be less fattening or "better for you" than drinking a can of a different garbage? Well, I'm curious. Aside from a few people who pick Diet Coke because they somehow like the taste better, the bulk of diet soda drinkers choose "diet" because they actually believe it's better for them. Seriously?! That's about as ignorant as choosing chewing tobacco over cigarettes for the same reason. But people do it anyway because it's "diet" and has no calories. Which makes me wonder, what the hell is a calorie anyway? (Don't worry, I looked it up.) A calorie in food is just a unit for measuring energy. Seems kind of ridiculous. We all know that eating a small McDonalds fries containing 220 calories is less healthy than eating a pear and a banana, which together, also contain 220 calories. But Diet Coke is obviously no better for you than regular Coke and they vary greatly in calories. So why is the same word still used to describe different kinds of energy?
Conclusion: The word calorie has somehow become a gross over-generalization of many different energy values contained in food. Most people appear to be oblivious to this and continue to be mislead by labels which, strangely enough, are required on almost all food products. Considering this is a rather serious health issue and affects anyone exposed to packaged foods, it seems like some effort should have been made to categorize or specify the different values of food energy which collectively remain described by this one deceptive word. Just sayin'.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Brilliant!
No one means all he says, and yet very few say all they mean, for words are slippery and thought is viscous.
- Henry Adams
- Henry Adams
Friday, August 7, 2009
Really?!
A black lady on a train with her black baby on her lap. Black baby is nursing a baby bottle. Contents: chocolate milk.
Le Dauphin
I'm finally reconnected with the world. I spent the last two weeks with my cousins and one of their friends in a mobile home at a campground near Meschers. It was nothing more and nothing less than I expected: lots of drinking, lots of going out, lots of hitting on girls, lots of time at the beach, lots of sandwiches, lots of immature behavior, lots of bullshit, and lots of fun. I couldn't be happier that it's over. The cousins do the stupidest shit sometimes. Seriously, who takes videos of their friends vomiting? Who takes a picture of a dirty toilet in a bathroom stall at a bar? Who whips out their junk and repeatedly slaps it on the counter behind our female company while their backs are turned? Who...well, you get the idea. There wasn't one night in two weeks where at least two of them didn't say, "I'm gonna get shit-faced tonight." Luckily for me, since we went out so much, they often needed a designated driver. I was usually the first to volunteer. Anyway, looking back on the whole experience nothing exceptional really took place. Although, there are definitely some things that need to be included in the blog. I'm going to lest them so that I don't forget but I don't have time to expand on everything right now. Expect some follow up entries on these later: weekly bingo night at the campground, the red mini football, a French phenomenon known as "l'apéritif," the cousins, their friend Kevin, the many faces of the "miniwich," and "l'elite Francaise." If anyone has any particular interest in any of these, feel free to comment and I'll get to that first.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
Words of Wisdom
My definition of an expert in any field is a person who knows enough about what's really going on to be scared.
-P.J. Plauger
Do you realize if it weren't for Edison we'd be watching TV by candlelight?
-Al Boliska
An intelligence test sometimes shows a man how smart he would have been not to have taken it.
-Laurence J. Peter
-P.J. Plauger
Do you realize if it weren't for Edison we'd be watching TV by candlelight?
-Al Boliska
An intelligence test sometimes shows a man how smart he would have been not to have taken it.
-Laurence J. Peter
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Uh-oh
Well, it's happening. I'm experiencing my first case of writers block. Either that or my life unexpectedly became uninteresting. In any case my hit reality blog series is taking a turn for the worse. The sad thing is that I've actually been traveling. I left Meschers on Wednesday to go to Paris for a few days and take care of some business. Nothing too exciting there. Wait. No. Yes, I'm inspired again! So on the train to Paris I thought of something funny. What if you somehow got a bunch of short grannies and grandpas with luggage into a train car. Work with me here. And in that train car, you add one young man to help them put their luggage into the overhead storage area. At the first stop, remove young man and insert hidden camera. Yep.
While in Paris I spent the two nights hanging out with my cousin. The first night I'd really rather not talk about but I'm going to let it out anyway. We went over to his friends house for a couple drinks, and once again I found myself in front of a Wii. And what's better is that they were playing Mario Kart! I quickly got in on the action only to find that these goofy French bastards were damn good. In fact, I won a few races but didn't win a single cup all night! WTF? How embarassing. And if you think you know someone competitive, multiply that by 100 and you get the French. I'm tearing up just thinking about it.
Moving on, the next night was a little less disturbing. I've got to give you a little background for this one. A few months ago my cousin discovered the magnificent mystifying world of interned dating. But dating sites in France are a little different. More on that later. For now we'll just say that their primary use isn't for getting a date. So two days earlier, my cousin met this girl online and within hours they had already exchanged phone numbers. They talked a little and she invited us to a party at one of her friends' house. It wasn't exactly next door but sometimes you've got to make sacrifices. After about an hour drive we showed up at this house full of people we didn't know. I made a mental note of something that I really appreciate about the French culture. When you show up somewhere, whether you know everyone or not, you introduce yourself to each person individually. It's really nice; you inevitably feel more at easy right away. And it's polite. Just like how you never show up anywhere empty-handed. We brought whiskey. Anyway, the night turned out to be pretty fun. I met a lot of new interesting people. 5:00 a.m. rolled around quickly and I was in the living room talking with my new friends and waiting for my cousin to finish target practice in the upstairs bedroom. Once he hit bull's-eye, we said goodbye and took off. We made it home just in time for him to change clothes and leave for work. I got some much needed sleep.
When I woke up, I made the trip back to Tours to spend a couple days relaxing before the long awaited, nervously anticipated two weeks of vacation with my cousins in Meschers.
While in Paris I spent the two nights hanging out with my cousin. The first night I'd really rather not talk about but I'm going to let it out anyway. We went over to his friends house for a couple drinks, and once again I found myself in front of a Wii. And what's better is that they were playing Mario Kart! I quickly got in on the action only to find that these goofy French bastards were damn good. In fact, I won a few races but didn't win a single cup all night! WTF? How embarassing. And if you think you know someone competitive, multiply that by 100 and you get the French. I'm tearing up just thinking about it.
Moving on, the next night was a little less disturbing. I've got to give you a little background for this one. A few months ago my cousin discovered the magnificent mystifying world of interned dating. But dating sites in France are a little different. More on that later. For now we'll just say that their primary use isn't for getting a date. So two days earlier, my cousin met this girl online and within hours they had already exchanged phone numbers. They talked a little and she invited us to a party at one of her friends' house. It wasn't exactly next door but sometimes you've got to make sacrifices. After about an hour drive we showed up at this house full of people we didn't know. I made a mental note of something that I really appreciate about the French culture. When you show up somewhere, whether you know everyone or not, you introduce yourself to each person individually. It's really nice; you inevitably feel more at easy right away. And it's polite. Just like how you never show up anywhere empty-handed. We brought whiskey. Anyway, the night turned out to be pretty fun. I met a lot of new interesting people. 5:00 a.m. rolled around quickly and I was in the living room talking with my new friends and waiting for my cousin to finish target practice in the upstairs bedroom. Once he hit bull's-eye, we said goodbye and took off. We made it home just in time for him to change clothes and leave for work. I got some much needed sleep.
When I woke up, I made the trip back to Tours to spend a couple days relaxing before the long awaited, nervously anticipated two weeks of vacation with my cousins in Meschers.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Words of Wisdom
I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.
-J.R.R Tolkien
Live in such a way that you would not be ashamed to sell your parrot to the town gossip.
-Will Rogers
-J.R.R Tolkien
Live in such a way that you would not be ashamed to sell your parrot to the town gossip.
-Will Rogers
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Irony
So you know when you accidentally make plans to meet up with three different girls at the same place on the same night? Well that happened to me last week.
I wish this story was as interesting and funny as that opening sentence would suggest. It's not. It's anticlimactic. Expect an abrupt, unsatisfying ending. I'll leave room at the bottom for you to imagine something exciting happening in a car.
I'm now in Meschers, my dad's home town in France where I spend the bulk of my time when I'm here. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, to unnecessarily complicate the story for the purpose of my own personal entertainment, and of course, to establish a hierarchy among those involved.
Girl 1: friend. Girl 2: friend. Girl 3: ex summer fling. All three: strangers to one another. I had seen 2 the two nights before so I told her that I had made plans with other friends that I hadn't seen yet. I really wanted to see 1 because she's funny as hell and I hadn't seen her in three years. So we got together, got a bottle of vodka, and set up shop at this viewpoint (more on that later) on a cliff that overlooks the ocean. We laughed and talked of memories past. 3, you ask? She conveniently wasn't available until late. When the time came, I made a last minute decision to invite her to join us for a drink. There's a logical explanation for this. First, I was impartial on seeing her and didn't feel like she needed any special attention. And second, these two girls had unknowingly crossed paths six years ago so I had a good conversation starter. In the summer of 2003 (coincidentally, the year I met 2, 1, and 3), 2 worked coat check at a discotheque (I love that word) that 1 frequented (and that one). I only knew this because I too was a patron. Anyway, the three of us talked for an hour or so while stargazing then called it a night.
.
I wish this story was as interesting and funny as that opening sentence would suggest. It's not. It's anticlimactic. Expect an abrupt, unsatisfying ending. I'll leave room at the bottom for you to imagine something exciting happening in a car.
I'm now in Meschers, my dad's home town in France where I spend the bulk of my time when I'm here. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, to unnecessarily complicate the story for the purpose of my own personal entertainment, and of course, to establish a hierarchy among those involved.
Girl 1: friend. Girl 2: friend. Girl 3: ex summer fling. All three: strangers to one another. I had seen 2 the two nights before so I told her that I had made plans with other friends that I hadn't seen yet. I really wanted to see 1 because she's funny as hell and I hadn't seen her in three years. So we got together, got a bottle of vodka, and set up shop at this viewpoint (more on that later) on a cliff that overlooks the ocean. We laughed and talked of memories past. 3, you ask? She conveniently wasn't available until late. When the time came, I made a last minute decision to invite her to join us for a drink. There's a logical explanation for this. First, I was impartial on seeing her and didn't feel like she needed any special attention. And second, these two girls had unknowingly crossed paths six years ago so I had a good conversation starter. In the summer of 2003 (coincidentally, the year I met 2, 1, and 3), 2 worked coat check at a discotheque (I love that word) that 1 frequented (and that one). I only knew this because I too was a patron. Anyway, the three of us talked for an hour or so while stargazing then called it a night.
.
Really?!
Old French man walking down the street, baguette in hand, wearing a black "50 Cent"/"G-Unit" baseball cap.
Discovering the Alternative
Sometimes I know what's going to happen next before it actually happens. I'd like to develop this but I haven't figured out exactly how yet.
Sometimes I inexplicably start humming a random tune that I haven't heard in a long time, at the exact same time as someone else. This happens too frequently to be coincidence.
Language is a relatively inefficient form of communication. It has a purpose, but it's overvalued. Our perverted understanding of it causes us to use it ineffectively. How much of what we say is actually constructive in terms of our personal welfare or advancement as a species? People's dependence on it has had adverse effects on our evolution. Our overuse and misuse of it hinders progress.
How do you express something you can't explain to someone who hasn't experienced the same thing?
Sometimes I inexplicably start humming a random tune that I haven't heard in a long time, at the exact same time as someone else. This happens too frequently to be coincidence.
Language is a relatively inefficient form of communication. It has a purpose, but it's overvalued. Our perverted understanding of it causes us to use it ineffectively. How much of what we say is actually constructive in terms of our personal welfare or advancement as a species? People's dependence on it has had adverse effects on our evolution. Our overuse and misuse of it hinders progress.
How do you express something you can't explain to someone who hasn't experienced the same thing?
Logic
Some people believe that everything happens for a reason. I agree. Everything happens as a result of something else. That's the reason.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Blah Blah Blah (continued)
Later Thursday afternoon, they younger sister in my host family asked if I wanted to go out to eat with her and some friends and possibly go out after. I checked my day planner and as luck would have it, that window of time was wide open. Naturally, I agreed. When we got to the restaurant I realized why she hadn't given me any details about the outing. My company for the evening consisted of my sister and 12 of her female classmates from beauty school. That's it. We had a nice long table for 14 on the terrace in the busy part of town and I was right in the middle. I'm pretty sure every guy that walked by gave me an envious look of approval. You know the one with the little smirk and one eyebrow half raised. This is typical French behavior. In fact, as I was leaving the restaurant, two guys sitting at a bar near the restaurant flagged me down to ask me how I managed to score dinner with eight girls. I responded nonchalantly, "thirteen." Anyway, towards the end of dinner the girls randomly started singing vulgar songs together as if we were sitting around a campfire. Completely ignorant of other people around us, the songs kept getting louder and more obnoxious. Again, this behavior is not uncommon among the French. Within 10 minutes, a large table of all guys sitting around the corner from us in the restaurant started singing as well. This logically turned into a competition because guys cannot be outdone by girls, and vice versa. Don't forget about me. All along, I'm just sitting there in the middle of the girls table, unfamiliar with any of the lyrics to these songs. Needless to say, it was quite the evening. The singing eventually stopped when the owner came over and told us to shut up (not exactly those words but you could tell he meant business). After dinner, I dragged them all over to l'Alexandra for a drink. I said hi to the owner and bartenders and acted as if the situation was commonplace.
Friday night was much less eventful. I went back into town and didn't find anyone to talk to at l'Alexandra. I didn't want to turn around and go home just yet so I decided to call the bouncer's friends from a couple nights before (that's the beauty of meeting people in random situations). They happened to be nearby so we met up. We went to a little mini mart and bought a bottle of vodka and some mixers, found a bench to chill on, and talked the night, and the bottle, away. That should have been more than enough, but at the time it seemed like a good idea to go out to the club and dance a little. We did just that, but not before getting another bottle. I stumbled home an hour later. Or at least I started to, when I got a text message from a friend that I hadn't seen in five years (I never thought I'd say that. Does that mean I'm getting old?). Turns out she was in town and wanted to see me. I warned her of my condition but she insisted. We met up just long enough for her to realize that I wasn't lying. That was fine; she had turned into a French hippie anyway. Wow, what a fascinating breed. They're like a mix between our college know-it-all hippies and our low-life Star Wars/video game hippies. They all have these loose-fitting colorful hemp hippie pants. The guys have long hair that has been untouched for weeks. They hang out in crowds (usually by water). They blend in astoundingly well with the the surrounding bums, which hover around them like flies on a rhino. They worship Bob Marley and Kurt Cobain but somehow take a liking to techno and trance music. They smoke and drink their nights away while blindly debating views of politics that they've unknowingly been force-fed by the media. They have a strange obsession with fire, juggling, and twriling things around, and love experimenting with any combination of the three. I have never encountered a group of individuals that are so unsure of who they are. It's mind numbing. I'll have more on them later.
Getting out of bed on Saturday was slow and unpleasant, headache and all. I had lunch with the host family and was served my daily dose of mocking and friendly criticism for staying out so late and drinking. After eating, I packed a backpack for my next adventure and looked online at the schedule of trains to Paris. In doing so, I fell asleep. Zzzzzzzzzzzz. I woke up 30 minutes before the train I had decided on was scheduled to leave. In spite of the fact that the train station is a 40 minute walk from the house and I didn't even have a ticket yet, I calmly said goodbye to my family and walked out the door. Although relatively insignificant, the following series of events whether coincidence or pure chance, is a prime example of why I started this blog. I was strangely unconcerned with the time and walked only slightly faster than my regular pace. Five minutes into my walk, I came upon the one bus that went from where I was to where I was going. It was stopped at the bus stop just long enough for me to get to it (without rushing), thanks to a stoplight. Less than ten minutes later, I arrived at the train station which was unusually deserted for that time of day and this time of year. I stood in line for my ticket for less than five minutes, which on any other day would have been 10 to 15. I walked to the train and the doors closed behind me. When I got to Paris, I made my way to the metro that would get me to the next train station. Once at this station, there was absolutely no line. Having absolutely no idea when the next train was, I asked for a ticket. The lady behind the window told me to hurry because there was one leaving within the next couple minutes. I did just that, hopped on, and again the doors shut behind me. When I arrived, my cousins were there waiting for me. Under no circumstance could I have made it any faster from my host family's house in Tours to my cousins' place outside of Paris. From there, we went straight to a friend's house for dinner and drinks until about one in the morning when we left for the club. That night can best be described by the pictures on facebook (Paris-Vegas album) so I'm not even going to try. I woke up Sunday afternoon and made the trip back to Tours where I spent the next few days relaxing and recovering.
Friday night was much less eventful. I went back into town and didn't find anyone to talk to at l'Alexandra. I didn't want to turn around and go home just yet so I decided to call the bouncer's friends from a couple nights before (that's the beauty of meeting people in random situations). They happened to be nearby so we met up. We went to a little mini mart and bought a bottle of vodka and some mixers, found a bench to chill on, and talked the night, and the bottle, away. That should have been more than enough, but at the time it seemed like a good idea to go out to the club and dance a little. We did just that, but not before getting another bottle. I stumbled home an hour later. Or at least I started to, when I got a text message from a friend that I hadn't seen in five years (I never thought I'd say that. Does that mean I'm getting old?). Turns out she was in town and wanted to see me. I warned her of my condition but she insisted. We met up just long enough for her to realize that I wasn't lying. That was fine; she had turned into a French hippie anyway. Wow, what a fascinating breed. They're like a mix between our college know-it-all hippies and our low-life Star Wars/video game hippies. They all have these loose-fitting colorful hemp hippie pants. The guys have long hair that has been untouched for weeks. They hang out in crowds (usually by water). They blend in astoundingly well with the the surrounding bums, which hover around them like flies on a rhino. They worship Bob Marley and Kurt Cobain but somehow take a liking to techno and trance music. They smoke and drink their nights away while blindly debating views of politics that they've unknowingly been force-fed by the media. They have a strange obsession with fire, juggling, and twriling things around, and love experimenting with any combination of the three. I have never encountered a group of individuals that are so unsure of who they are. It's mind numbing. I'll have more on them later.
Getting out of bed on Saturday was slow and unpleasant, headache and all. I had lunch with the host family and was served my daily dose of mocking and friendly criticism for staying out so late and drinking. After eating, I packed a backpack for my next adventure and looked online at the schedule of trains to Paris. In doing so, I fell asleep. Zzzzzzzzzzzz. I woke up 30 minutes before the train I had decided on was scheduled to leave. In spite of the fact that the train station is a 40 minute walk from the house and I didn't even have a ticket yet, I calmly said goodbye to my family and walked out the door. Although relatively insignificant, the following series of events whether coincidence or pure chance, is a prime example of why I started this blog. I was strangely unconcerned with the time and walked only slightly faster than my regular pace. Five minutes into my walk, I came upon the one bus that went from where I was to where I was going. It was stopped at the bus stop just long enough for me to get to it (without rushing), thanks to a stoplight. Less than ten minutes later, I arrived at the train station which was unusually deserted for that time of day and this time of year. I stood in line for my ticket for less than five minutes, which on any other day would have been 10 to 15. I walked to the train and the doors closed behind me. When I got to Paris, I made my way to the metro that would get me to the next train station. Once at this station, there was absolutely no line. Having absolutely no idea when the next train was, I asked for a ticket. The lady behind the window told me to hurry because there was one leaving within the next couple minutes. I did just that, hopped on, and again the doors shut behind me. When I arrived, my cousins were there waiting for me. Under no circumstance could I have made it any faster from my host family's house in Tours to my cousins' place outside of Paris. From there, we went straight to a friend's house for dinner and drinks until about one in the morning when we left for the club. That night can best be described by the pictures on facebook (Paris-Vegas album) so I'm not even going to try. I woke up Sunday afternoon and made the trip back to Tours where I spent the next few days relaxing and recovering.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Blah Blah Blah
Traveling alone is pretty neat. Funny things happen to me. I've gone out on the town almost every night and I have yet to be disappointed. Let me set the stage a bit. When I go out in Tours, I walk down to the old part of town appropriately called "le Vieux Tours." It's about a 35 minute walk from my host family's house. Anyway, this is the same area that I went out to when I studied abroad here 6 years ago in 2003. The bar I used to go to, called "l'Alexandra" has the cheapest beer and typically caters to the foreign crowd. I got to know the owner and bartenders pretty well in the summers of '03, '04, and '05. In '06, the owner moved to le Mans to open a bigger better bar. Since then, but not for that reason, I haven't spent much time in Tours.
So on Monday night, my first night out alone, I made the obvious decision to check out my old hang out. It wasn't very busy but i decided to go in and treat myself to a tasty beverage while I reminisced of memories past. The reminiscing proved to be short lived, for right as I walked into the bar I noticed Wii tennis being played on the big screen in the back. Perfect. At least I wasn't going to get homesick at this bar. Naturally, when a controller finally freed up, I took my place in front of the TV. By this time my pint of beer was only half full. I proceeded to go undefeated in tennis and golf. In doing so, I managed to meet a few interesting people and half of the employees, including the new owner. Although relatively uneventful, the night was a success; low-key and entertaining.
When I woke up Tuesday morning I was pleasantly reminded of how great life is in Tours. Like clockwork, my host family wakes me up at 12:15 for lunch. After awesome food and good company (more on that later), I'm free to do as I please. This often consists of a nap. I know. Rough, right? Tuesday night rolled around and after dinner I was off for another night on the town. I went right back down to l'Alexandra, grabbed a pint and once again picked up the Wiimote. Don't worry, I've since moved on. I hung around for an hour or so. I finished my beer while playing a few rounds of Wii golf and decided that it was time to move on. I started wandering around town just people-watching. The French have such a different lifestyle (much more on that later), it's fascinating. I walked by a night club called Excalibur and noticed a group of drunken teeenagers trying to get in. I had to stop and watch. In a nutshell, it went a little something like this: The drunkest of the kids was trying to negotiate with the bouncer. He wasn't having it. Drunken friends were telling drunkest kid not to worry about it, that they'd go somewhere else. Bouncer advised drunkest kid to listen to friends. Drunkest kid, spitefully agrees to leave, but not before telling the bouncer (while flashing three 20 Euro bills) that he just made a mistake because he had lost the club a lot of money. Bouncer, laughing as they walk away, turns to a couple of his friends standing by and says facetiously, "putain, on a perdu cent Euros!" (Shit, we lost 100 Euros!) They all laughed and continued to talk sit on the stupid drunken teenagers until they noticed me right there just standing and laughing along (mind you, I was a few beers deep at the time). This sparked an interesting converstaion between the four of us, and 15 minutes later I had officially become friends with the bouncer and his two friends. I ended up going inside for a bit to check the place out but at that point I was tired so I left shortly after.
Wednesday night it was back to l'Alexandra to kick off another fine evening. I had a beer and sat down at a table right next to a group of three guys and a girl. After about 90 seconds I realized that all the guys were French, but the girl was American. Typically, a lone American girl will never agree to do much of anything with three frenchies so I was a bit curious as to how exactly this situation came about. As soon as I realized that there was a bit of a language barrier between them, I came up with an obvious plan to incoporate myself in their converstation. "Would you like me to help translate?" Instant gratification, "sure, why don't you join us?" Turns out the girl met one of the guys on couchsurfing.com and was staying at his place for a couple days. I spent the rest of the night chatting with them. At some point the girl invited me to join her on a bike ride the next morning to one of the nearby castles in the region. Since I'd never been and I felt like a fat ass for not engaging in any physical activity since my arrival in France, I gratefully agreed. At about 1 a.m. we all exchanged facebook info and called it a night.
Waking up at 6:30 Thursday morning wasn't easy but I was motivated to get in some exercise. The bike ride was about an hour and a half each way. The scenery was amazing; beautiful French countryside the entire way. Nevertheless, I only took three pictures on the actual ride, not one of which was of the landscape. You'll understand why in my next "Really?!" The castle and its gardens were impressive too; we spent a couple hours walking around. Overall, it was a pleasant morning and a nice change from my standard routine (sleep). Luckily I got a nap in when I got home mid afternoon!
So on Monday night, my first night out alone, I made the obvious decision to check out my old hang out. It wasn't very busy but i decided to go in and treat myself to a tasty beverage while I reminisced of memories past. The reminiscing proved to be short lived, for right as I walked into the bar I noticed Wii tennis being played on the big screen in the back. Perfect. At least I wasn't going to get homesick at this bar. Naturally, when a controller finally freed up, I took my place in front of the TV. By this time my pint of beer was only half full. I proceeded to go undefeated in tennis and golf. In doing so, I managed to meet a few interesting people and half of the employees, including the new owner. Although relatively uneventful, the night was a success; low-key and entertaining.
When I woke up Tuesday morning I was pleasantly reminded of how great life is in Tours. Like clockwork, my host family wakes me up at 12:15 for lunch. After awesome food and good company (more on that later), I'm free to do as I please. This often consists of a nap. I know. Rough, right? Tuesday night rolled around and after dinner I was off for another night on the town. I went right back down to l'Alexandra, grabbed a pint and once again picked up the Wiimote. Don't worry, I've since moved on. I hung around for an hour or so. I finished my beer while playing a few rounds of Wii golf and decided that it was time to move on. I started wandering around town just people-watching. The French have such a different lifestyle (much more on that later), it's fascinating. I walked by a night club called Excalibur and noticed a group of drunken teeenagers trying to get in. I had to stop and watch. In a nutshell, it went a little something like this: The drunkest of the kids was trying to negotiate with the bouncer. He wasn't having it. Drunken friends were telling drunkest kid not to worry about it, that they'd go somewhere else. Bouncer advised drunkest kid to listen to friends. Drunkest kid, spitefully agrees to leave, but not before telling the bouncer (while flashing three 20 Euro bills) that he just made a mistake because he had lost the club a lot of money. Bouncer, laughing as they walk away, turns to a couple of his friends standing by and says facetiously, "putain, on a perdu cent Euros!" (Shit, we lost 100 Euros!) They all laughed and continued to talk sit on the stupid drunken teenagers until they noticed me right there just standing and laughing along (mind you, I was a few beers deep at the time). This sparked an interesting converstaion between the four of us, and 15 minutes later I had officially become friends with the bouncer and his two friends. I ended up going inside for a bit to check the place out but at that point I was tired so I left shortly after.
Wednesday night it was back to l'Alexandra to kick off another fine evening. I had a beer and sat down at a table right next to a group of three guys and a girl. After about 90 seconds I realized that all the guys were French, but the girl was American. Typically, a lone American girl will never agree to do much of anything with three frenchies so I was a bit curious as to how exactly this situation came about. As soon as I realized that there was a bit of a language barrier between them, I came up with an obvious plan to incoporate myself in their converstation. "Would you like me to help translate?" Instant gratification, "sure, why don't you join us?" Turns out the girl met one of the guys on couchsurfing.com and was staying at his place for a couple days. I spent the rest of the night chatting with them. At some point the girl invited me to join her on a bike ride the next morning to one of the nearby castles in the region. Since I'd never been and I felt like a fat ass for not engaging in any physical activity since my arrival in France, I gratefully agreed. At about 1 a.m. we all exchanged facebook info and called it a night.
Waking up at 6:30 Thursday morning wasn't easy but I was motivated to get in some exercise. The bike ride was about an hour and a half each way. The scenery was amazing; beautiful French countryside the entire way. Nevertheless, I only took three pictures on the actual ride, not one of which was of the landscape. You'll understand why in my next "Really?!" The castle and its gardens were impressive too; we spent a couple hours walking around. Overall, it was a pleasant morning and a nice change from my standard routine (sleep). Luckily I got a nap in when I got home mid afternoon!
Neverending Story
So it's been a while since I've posted. It's not that I haven't been writing. It's just that every time I start writing I never finish. The problem seems to be that once I start telling a story, I feel like I have to include every little detail. I'm starting to realize though that there's no way that I'll be able to write about everything that happens on my trip, much less in my life after this trip. And even if I could it would make for a boring blog. After all, I'm not trying to write a story that flows, I just want to document the outstanding things in my life and my reflections on them so that I can eventually develop some understanding of the evolution of me and my thought process. That being said, my next post will be a compilation of my verbose writings from this last week or so because I can't justify simply deleting them after having taken the time to write them down.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Really?!
Girl gets on bus with wicker hand bag. Girl sits down. Girl has a female manikin head (with hair) in wicker hand bag. Due to bumps in the road during bus ride, female manikin head (with hair) keeps popping up a little out of wicker hand bag. Girl gets frustrated. Girl angrily hits helpless female manikin head (with hair) two or three times in the forehead.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Really?!
Train ticket from Paris to Tours: $31. The facial expressions French people make when there is a baby crying next to them on a train: priceless. The portable neon green baby tent that that baby's mom is setting up in the middle of the isle: hopeless.
Inauguration Day: "Really?!"
I'm taking this entry to introduce a brand new segment to my blog. For one reason or another (or no reason at all), I think most things that I see and hear on any given day in my life are, in some way, funny. However, a few things just take the cake. Some things catch me so off guard that laughing doesn't even do them justice. I actually have to pause to think and stare for a few seconds and really take it in. Unfortunately, as satisfying as these moments are, within days (that's generous), they fade from memory and are lost forever... until now. From now on I'm going to document them right here on the internet where I can enjoy them time and time again, and of course, share them with you. I shall call them, Mini-Me. Wait, no. Sorry. These posts will be called "Really?!"
The Day After Day Two (ish)
My first day in Tours went exactly according to plan. My host family parents were having a big 25th wedding anniversary/double birthday party. When they first told me about it a couple months ago, I hadn't bought my plane ticket yet. That week, I bought my ticket but told them that I wouldn't be able to make it to the party. That was a lie. It's okay though, I wanted to surprise them. And I did.
I had made arrangements with Lucie, the older daughter, to get ready at a friends house and show up at the same time as all the other guests. That went swimmingly. Surprise! Shocked looks on faces. Good food. Good fun. Good night.
I had made arrangements with Lucie, the older daughter, to get ready at a friends house and show up at the same time as all the other guests. That went swimmingly. Surprise! Shocked looks on faces. Good food. Good fun. Good night.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Day Two (ish)
There is some confusion to exactly what day I wrote this post. It was my second day on the trip but my first full day in France. Oh, and 12 hours of travel and an 8 hour time difference lost somewhere in between. Date: June 20, 2009. Again, no internet access.
I made it through an interesting first night with my cousin. Barbecue at a friend's followed by night out at a bar called the Vegas. In spite of hopes to limit my alcohol consumption, I got slightly inebriated. However, in doing so, I came to the realization that drunk in France is not the same as drunk in the US. It's a different feeling. More on that later. At the BBQ, I experience a bit of culture shock. It's been two years since my last trip to France so some things are going to take some getting used to. Anyway, it felt like the people I was with were eternally stuck in a high school mentality, for lack of a better description. More on that later. I slept a few short hours; not nearly enough to fully recover. Now I'm in the train to my next adventure, in Tours. A bit tired, but excited nonetheless.
I made it through an interesting first night with my cousin. Barbecue at a friend's followed by night out at a bar called the Vegas. In spite of hopes to limit my alcohol consumption, I got slightly inebriated. However, in doing so, I came to the realization that drunk in France is not the same as drunk in the US. It's a different feeling. More on that later. At the BBQ, I experience a bit of culture shock. It's been two years since my last trip to France so some things are going to take some getting used to. Anyway, it felt like the people I was with were eternally stuck in a high school mentality, for lack of a better description. More on that later. I slept a few short hours; not nearly enough to fully recover. Now I'm in the train to my next adventure, in Tours. A bit tired, but excited nonetheless.
Day One - Getting There
(Written June 18 - No internet access)
After no sleep, my brother gets me to the airport at 6:30 am, two hours before my scheduled departure time. Ticketing and the security check were relatively quick and painless. I get to my terminal and find that my plane has been delayed almost an hour to about 9:30. Within the next hour and a half, the flight gets delayed another four times, pushing my flight back to 1:31 pm. I decide to call my brother in hopes that he's awake, up, and willing to go grab a bite. Check. Check. Check. He comes to pick me up and we go to a place where dreams are made, to experience the great American breakfast: Denny's. Our fine dining expectations were gracefully met by none other than Grace, a curly mullet-sporting, over baked, underpaid gem from the greater Midwest (of the Salt Lake valley). Breakfast was short and sweet but it was nice to get out of the airport for a bit.
I made it back to my flight and slept the entire way to the twin cities' airport in Minnesota. After a small, overcomplicated journey from one terminal to the other, I find myself at Fletcher's Wharf having a Sam Adams, writing the first page to a hopefully complete story that will eventually just be remembered as summer 2009.
I'm being called for boarding. Next stop: Reykjavik, Iceland.
After no sleep, my brother gets me to the airport at 6:30 am, two hours before my scheduled departure time. Ticketing and the security check were relatively quick and painless. I get to my terminal and find that my plane has been delayed almost an hour to about 9:30. Within the next hour and a half, the flight gets delayed another four times, pushing my flight back to 1:31 pm. I decide to call my brother in hopes that he's awake, up, and willing to go grab a bite. Check. Check. Check. He comes to pick me up and we go to a place where dreams are made, to experience the great American breakfast: Denny's. Our fine dining expectations were gracefully met by none other than Grace, a curly mullet-sporting, over baked, underpaid gem from the greater Midwest (of the Salt Lake valley). Breakfast was short and sweet but it was nice to get out of the airport for a bit.
I made it back to my flight and slept the entire way to the twin cities' airport in Minnesota. After a small, overcomplicated journey from one terminal to the other, I find myself at Fletcher's Wharf having a Sam Adams, writing the first page to a hopefully complete story that will eventually just be remembered as summer 2009.
I'm being called for boarding. Next stop: Reykjavik, Iceland.
Euro Trip
I would like to inform all those interested that I am and will be in France until September 14th. Thus, all posts between now and then will be influenced or motivated in some way by my experiences here. Although I have yet to make any plans outside of France this trip, I named this post "Euro Trip" with hopes that in continually seeing it as I post throughout the summer, I will be encouraged to travel outside of the borders.
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