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My Paris Diary

by Izzy Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 05:05:40 AM EST

Well, I'm finally back home and somewhat recovered from my trip.  I learned a lot in Paris.  The biggest and most important thing I'll state right here up top.  Think of it as something of a public service announcement, since I think everyone -- even those too lazy to click on the link and read the rest of this post -- should know this:

It IS possible in France to "miss" your flight an hour before the plane takes off.

Now take a moment to ponder that so you never forget.

Okay, now that we've given this fact its due respect, let us proceed...


Day 1

In preparation for the trip, I had not learned any French whatsoever.  I wasn't convinced the trip was going to happen till the last minute at which point I asked my beloved to teach me a few useful phrases.  His considered advice after this lesson?  Under no circumstances was I to attempt to speak French while in France.  

Shaken from my French lesson, I convince myself this is sound advice and that I'll be with enough French speakers that I will be insulated from interfacing with the local community.  I immediately realize upon landing that this was an incredibly stupid plan.  After some indeterminate amount of time which seems endless and fraught with peril, and through extraordinary effort, I learn the essential French word in these circumstances:  taxi.

Lesson 1:  no matter how badly you speak them, learn a few words anyway.  Then write those words down on a card so you can convey information to people like taxi drivers.

Somehow I make my way to Jerome's.  His wife, children, and home could not be more lovely.  It's an idyllic afternoon.  Mrs. a Paris is preparing a jaunt with one of the children and, lulled by the sunshine streaming in the windows, the drowsing cats, and the napping child on the couch, I volunteer to stay with the other little ones.  There follows a perfect, almost magical, 15 minutes.  

The spell is abruptly broken by an incident of vomiting on the part of the aforementioned napping child.  This is accompanied by high fever and much crying.  I call the child's mother, then realize I don't know how to tell the child anything, including the fact that her mother is on the way home.  I wrack my brain and come up with two more words -- mama oui.  This has no effect and, in fact, seems to escalate the crying.  I resort to singing.  Oddly, this works.  The little one and I are bonded.

Lesson 2:  music really is the universal language, at least among fevered 5 year olds.

Later, I have a lovely dinner at a bistro.  I order the lasagna.  I meet two lovely French-Canadians who grill me about George Bush and what I think Obama's chances are.

Day 2

Coincidentally, two of my friends from LA are in Paris this week and we decide to get together today, my free day before the start of the meetup, and to meet at the Eiffel Tower.  My friends are an hour late because of - foreshadowing alert! - train problems.  I walk all around the tower several times, wondering if I'm in the right spot.  It's all much bigger than I thought it would be.

During my wait, I am approached by a young woman who asks if I speak English.  She then shows me a printed sign that says she's from Bosnia, that her father has died, and asking if I can please help.  I regretfully decline.  Over the course of the next hour I am approached by four more young women, all from Bosnia, all with dead fathers, all with the exact same sign.  I'm also badgered by souvenir salesmen.  I finally end up somehow buying an Eiffel Tower statue, hoping it'll shield me from further pitches.  It doesn't.

My friends finally arrive and we have a great lunch at a Chinese restaurant.  It's been quite a walk getting to it though, including going from one street to another up an enormous flight of stairs.

Lesson 3:  in Los Angeles, "not far" means a drive under 15 minutes.  In France, it means a walk under an hour.

My friends and I go to the Louvre.  It's also big, which I'd been told, but I still wasn't prepared for it.  I cycle through the stages of the Louvre -- delighted, awed, overwhelmed, exhausted, resentful.  I end up ranting about plunder and slave labor as I limp up yet another flight of stairs that are seemingly there for no apparent reason other than to break up the monotony of the miles-long marble corridors.  I wonder if there is no French equivalent of the Amercians With Disabilities Act.  

I collapse in an alcove and ponder the enormous task of retrofitting Europe.  I despair of ever finding, much less making it to, the exit.  I learn another word:  sortie.  

Somewhere along the line I've also picked up bonjour and merci.

We finally get out.  Our relief is such that we become giddy -- if we can find the exit in the Louvre, we can do anything!  We decide to go up the Eiffel Tower.  At least there's an elevator.

All day long my friends and I have been turning to each other and asking "can you believe we're in Paris?"  We're not from good areas of Los Angeles and we're lucky to have gotten out of our neighborhoods, never mind the unlikely scenario of traipsing around the Louvre together.  If you'd told us 30 years ago that we'd be doing this today, we wouldn't have believed you.  At the top of the tower, our disbelief is suspended.  There it all is.  Paris.  

And here we are.  Life is strange and beautiful.  I return to the a Paris household at midnight, tired and happy.  Also hungry.

Lesson 4:  Paris is not exactly crowded with all-night diners.  If you go to the top of the tower on the last trip of the night, you will not be finding someplace to get pancakes after.

I talk with my beloved.  He gets caught short by the fact that my two main meals so far have been Italian and Chinese food.  I'm ordered to eat some French food.  I vow to find some crepes.

Days 3, 4, and 5

These are the meetup days and they're a blur of good food and even better company.  Meeting the ET people is amazing -- all smart and interesting, and much warmer than in text!  When I was a child I used to watch the tv show Gumby.  Gumby could walk into books which was a concept I was enamored with.  Meeting people from the blog, people I'd been interacting with in writing for years, was kinda like that.  I was in heaven.

Most people were exactly like I'd imagined.  Some from the blog I'd already formed friendships with, so I knew them well already and the actual meeting was more of a formality.  Others I'd only read or interacted with in a limited way in the comments, and it was a real pleasure to get to know them better.  There were no huge surprises, but some small ones -- Jerome and In Wales are both taller than I'd imagined.  Helen has a beautiful BBC voice.  Some of the infrequent commenters I'd assumed were shy or serious turned out to be boisterous and funny (I'm talkin' to you dvx and linca).

No surprise at all was how kind everyone is.  Fran shared her room.  Helen, Metatone, and others shared their metro tickets.  Plus, I had perpetual technology problems the whole time I was there - a laptop with no wifi or battery, a cell phone that needed recharging, and a camera with no storage chip that needed to be downloaded onto the laptop every 40 pictures, all with no converter to plug anything in.  I'd brought a converter, but of course it wasn't working.  

As a result, I got to experience the generosity of the ET community -- In Wales and The Stormy Present took photos for me.  Jerome, Colman, and Metatone let me email from their iPhones (I'm starting to think of the proffered iPhone as the new gesture of chivalry).  Someone and Crazy Horse both brought their laptops to the hotel lobby to let me use them.  There were various offers of converters and attempts to charge my phone, some more successful than others.  But in every case there were people willing to help.  Including afew's infinite patience with menu translation and helping me order.

Did I mention there was a lot of walking?  Every time someone proposed something to do, the activity either involved walking or the activity was, in fact, going for a walk.  I slow down when I'm tired and it didn't escape my notice that In Wales, DVX, Crazy Horse, and Metavision all made sure at various times to slow down and keep me company at the back of the pack.  There were so many wonderful conversations I can't go into them all without this getting even ridiculously longer than it already is.   My only regret from the trip is that I couldn't take Melanchthon up on his offer of showing me the shoe manufacturing center of France.

And speaking of France, I don't know where this idea comes from that the French are snooty or rude.  I know I've belabored this point, but I was terrible at speaking French.  A certain Irishman burst out laughing hearing me say bonjour -- my accent is just that bad -- yet the people I met couldn't have been more friendly and helpful (well, except for that last day at the airport, but I'll get to that in a minute).  I mean, sure, I heard the word "Americain" repeatedly amongst the laughter, but once they recovered themselves, folks went out of their way to be nice.

I loved how the meals took forever and there were accordion players all over the metro.  I also saw a seemingly normal woman hike her skirts and pee, squatting right next to a bus stop in broad daylight.  I was told in no uncertain terms that this is not regular.  I also had a 20-something boy yell that he loved me while blowing kisses as I was leaving a restaurant, which I was told was regular.  I'm thinking these boys must be hired by the tourist department.

Oh, and you know how conservatives are always writing about conversations with cab drivers?  Thus far, I've been suspicious of these types of columns.  Not any more.  I'm sitting in the back of a taxi with a driver that has said he speaks no English.  We're riding along in silence except that he apparently has French talk-radio playing.  At least it sounds sort of like our talk radio, only more elegant.  Suddenly he catches my eye in the mirror, raises his eyebrows, and pointedly says "George Boosh??"  I make an acking noise I hope is understood.  He smiles.  So I ask "Sarkozy?"  And he goes "eez no good!  Sarkozy Boosh same!"  and we both laugh.  So apparently even with linguistic barriers, cab drivers can't resist the political commentary.

Anyway, it's been the trip of a lifetime and Sunday night I'm all sad and sentimental saying goodbye to everyone, but tired and happy, too.  Tomorrow I'll be back to reality, which is a world without jet lag and marble hallways.  Plus, I'll be winging my way home to my beloved.  I suddenly feel I've been gone forever.  I can't wait to get home.

Day 6

Supposedly my last day in France.  I won't drag this part out.  It's too painful, the wound too fresh.  Events conspire - there's a series of complications, delays, and then the killing blow -- a train strike.  

I should've probably expected this.  Still.  I wasn't panicked at first.  I thought I had time.  My flight was to leave at 3:55.  I checked in at 3:04.  I was told I missed the plane.  I quickly cycled through the stages of missing your plane - denial, arguing, anger, begging, despair, pleading, etc.

Lesson 5:  if you want to see some VERY French raised eyebrows, loudly say the word 'fuck' at the airport.  This leads to...
Lesson 6:  the word "fuck" is evidently understood by the general non-English speaking populace.

Several crying jags and frantic phone calls later, I arrive back at the a Paris household.  I'm comforted, fed, and given use of a laptop.  I soothe my jangled nerves online.  My beloved has changed his facebook profile to say he's 'hating the French' and I laugh a bitter laugh.  I IM Jerome goodbye from across the room and go to sleep.

Day 7

Up at the crack of dawn.  I make sure I'm the first one on the plane.  I discover that France has excellent lemon tarts - why has no one told me this before?  Oh, and btw, as far as I can tell, there are no crepes in Paris.  

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Oh, and despite repeated lessons from the littlest a Paris, I never did learn how to pronounce the word "shoes" in French...

I also had my laptop break since I got home, so no pictures for now.

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes

by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 05:07:47 AM EST
Hurrah! A diary!
by In Wales (inwales aaat eurotrib.com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 05:20:04 AM EST
[ Parent ]
I know!  Or should I say voila?

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 05:21:53 AM EST
[ Parent ]
... just type it.

I've been accused of being a Marxist, yet while Harpo's my favourite, it's Groucho I'm always quoting. Odd, that.
by BruceMcF (agila61 at netscape dot net) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 06:17:03 PM EST
[ Parent ]
Heh - it's my thick Los Angeles accent that's to blame...

Actually, one of the friends I was with is a total skater-boi (for example, he actually advised us to "cop a squat" on the fountain at the Louvre).  We were worried he'd have trouble communicating.  We get to the restaurant and, to our astonishment, he busts out with some perfect French!  Turns out he'd been listening to French for Dummies on his iPod for weeks.  I guess that really works!

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes

by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 06:51:51 PM EST
[ Parent ]
<sigh> I did my best to get you to say SHOCE YURE. But there are two syllables, that's true.

It was great meeting you, Izzy. Hasta la vista.

by afew (afew(a in a circle)eurotrib_dot_com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 06:41:15 AM EST
[ Parent ]
¡Hola!  You know I appreciate the lesson, I'm just hopeless... gracias, Izzy

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 03:57:17 PM EST
[ Parent ]
I certainly did NOT let you send emails from my iPhone!

In the long run, we're all dead. John Maynard Keynes
by Jerome a Paris (etg@eurotrib.com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 05:47:18 AM EST
all those iphones and macs and fancy cameras! No wonder we have trouble attracting more people to the site - we're just too damn elitists!

In the long run, we're all dead. John Maynard Keynes
by Jerome a Paris (etg@eurotrib.com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 05:57:48 AM EST
[ Parent ]
Oh, that's right!  But you did provide the winning power adapter, so that has to count for something.

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 03:57:59 PM EST
[ Parent ]
... that you know about?

The fact is that what we're experiencing right now is a top-down disaster. -Paul Krugman
by dvx (dvx.clt št gmail dotcom) on Mon Sep 29th, 2008 at 03:58:32 AM EST
[ Parent ]
Chaussures?
by Metatone (metatone [a|t] gmail (dot) com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 05:49:53 AM EST
Yeah, it's not the writing of it I was having a problem with...

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 03:58:31 PM EST
[ Parent ]
paris needs some days to get used to it.. a couple of visits...

but losing he airplane.. mmmhhhh.. one hour ahead??? It is weird.. for european flights is clearly not the case.... maybe for the US planes? Security and all that stuff???

A pleasure

I therefore claim to show, not how men think in myths, but how myths operate in men's minds without their being aware of the fact. Levi-Strauss, Claude

by kcurie on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 06:12:17 AM EST
Is that a hint?

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 04:00:59 PM EST
[ Parent ]
I have a BBC accent ??!! {raised eyebrows}. And I thought it was good old-fashioned "estuary".

but it was lovely meeting you and look forward to seeing you again next year (hint)

keep to the Fen Causeway

by Helen (lareinagal at yahoo dot co dot uk) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 06:23:28 AM EST
You're posher than you thought.
by afew (afew(a in a circle)eurotrib_dot_com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 06:42:58 AM EST
[ Parent ]
You're the one with the posh accent. I've spent too long in Essex, even when I try posh it slips like a tiara on a bald man's head.

keep to the Fen Causeway
by Helen (lareinagal at yahoo dot co dot uk) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 07:17:44 AM EST
[ Parent ]
Well, when you live in California, every Brit has a BBC accent... (been there myself)
by Bernard on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 07:49:52 AM EST
[ Parent ]
lol I had a conversation with Izzy about how British people think that all Americans sound the same.
by In Wales (inwales aaat eurotrib.com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 07:53:10 AM EST
[ Parent ]
I don't, I'm pretty good at placing many american accents.

keep to the Fen Causeway
by Helen (lareinagal at yahoo dot co dot uk) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 08:03:29 AM EST
[ Parent ]
I'm rubbish at it.
by In Wales (inwales aaat eurotrib.com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 08:05:45 AM EST
[ Parent ]
I know a teacher who has the broadest Essex/cockney/docklands accent her Welsh pupils have real problems with thinking she's posh.

Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out.
by ceebs (ceebs (at) eurotrib (dot) com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 04:06:37 PM EST
[ Parent ]
Well, even for my ears, when in Prague, you definitely had a refined, clear voice of a news commentator.

*Lunatic*, n.
One whose delusions are out of fashion.
by DoDo on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 07:45:17 AM EST
[ Parent ]
Take that, Helen! LOL!
by afew (afew(a in a circle)eurotrib_dot_com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 08:05:00 AM EST
[ Parent ]
I said you have a BBC voice -- I know better than to mention accents to the British!

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 04:01:58 PM EST
[ Parent ]
the killing blow -- a train strike.  

What was the occasion -- anyone knows?

My flight was to leave at 3:55.  I checked in at 3:04.  I was told I missed the plane.

Was it Air France or an American airline?

*Lunatic*, n.
One whose delusions are out of fashion.

by DoDo on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 07:46:39 AM EST
I heard about the call for a Monday strike on the RER B line while listening to the radio on Saturday morning, just before leaving for the meet-up.

Since RER B isn't on my daily commute, I forgot about it and didn't realize some ETribbers would rely on it to head to the airport on Monday... <kicking myself>

At least, the à Paris children were delighted to have Izzy one more night!

I'm not surprised about the flight and I don't think it has anything to do with Air France or American or United: there are 3 sorts of flights: domestic, international and US-bound international (a fourth may be to Israel). On this last sort, the various security checks are so cumbersome, and have gotten worse and worse, that airport ground staff tend to play it safe by applying the "last time for check-in or you'll be denied boarding" rule.

Had you flown to Berlin or Rome: no problem, most likely.

Another aggravating factor for CDG airport: not enough gates on the terminals, so they're busing passengers to and from aircrafts, including long haul flights, not only puddle hoppers. It happened to me the 2 last times I came back from SFO, and because of that they probably need to add a good 15 to 20 mn to their time constraints.

by Bernard on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 08:09:43 AM EST
[ Parent ]
I'll 'forgive' you since I only spent two hours in sheer hell and finally made my plane through unusual means.  

I think I have noticed only 2 types of flights:

  1.  Domestic and international
  2.  To monstrous govt. countries like the US, Israel, etc.

where no human event is allowed to change the rules from their rock brains and nothing will ever satisfy them except a body bag and a bag o´money!  

Our knowledge has surpassed our wisdom. -Charu Saxena.
by metavision on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 10:05:42 AM EST
[ Parent ]
the various security checks are so cumbersome, and have gotten worse and worse, that airport ground staff tend to play it safe by applying the "last time for check-in or you'll be denied boarding" rule.

OMG - I forgot to tell you guys the best part!  So the next day I'm sitting on the plane waiting to take off on the way home, and we're just sitting there at the gate.  For ages.  I was seated next to this really nice French family.  There were a couple of announcements, but they were in French with no translation.  

Finally, after about 45 minutes, I asked the French family what was going on.  The guy says that the plane's been delayed because some people checked on their baggage but then couldn't get into the boarding area and they had to unload all the bags to return them to the people who missed the flight.

I just looked at the guy (he said it so casually) and I'm all... so... if I'm understanding you correctly, some passengers got to the counter in time to check their baggage, but just missed the one hour cut off to the gate, and then they delay the flight an hour to get their luggage back to them?  Does this make any sense?  He goes, well... hmm... I never thought about it, but I guess it doesn't and we both started laughing.

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes

by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Tue Sep 30th, 2008 at 02:16:07 AM EST
[ Parent ]
Essentially, the RER B line is split between the SNCF to the north and the RATP in the center and to the south. It used to be that the driver would change at Gare du Nord - causing a two to three minutes delay for the train, that was a bit cumbersome on such a busy line. The strike is caused by the move to have the drivers drive on the whole line rather than only on their company's tracks ; apparently that one strike was caused by claims the drivers are being overworked.

Un roi sans divertissement est un homme plein de misŤres
by linca (antonin POINT lucas AROBASE gmail.com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 04:44:30 PM EST
[ Parent ]

Oh, and btw, as far as I can tell, there are no crepes in Paris.

Izzy, I hate to tell you this, but our very last meal in Paris on Sunday - just after we had broken away from Fran, metavision, Colman/Sam/Christopher ("Splitters!!" I hear Helen cry) to head across town to get our stuff - was an absolutely orgasmic crepe just around the corner from the Pompidou Centre.....

"The future is already here -- it's just not very evenly distributed" William Gibson

by ChrisCook (cojockathotmaildotcom) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 07:54:09 AM EST
Remember to take us there next year!

Our knowledge has surpassed our wisdom. -Charu Saxena.
by metavision on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 09:34:31 AM EST
[ Parent ]
You're right.  I did hate to hear that.

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 04:03:33 PM EST
[ Parent ]
Well Izzy, would you like a good recipe and you can then get all the crepes you want without leaving LA?

Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's need, but not every man's greed. Gandhi
by Cyrille (cyrillev domain yahoo.fr) on Tue Sep 30th, 2008 at 01:46:02 AM EST
[ Parent ]
Absolutely!  Will you send a good cook, too?

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Tue Sep 30th, 2008 at 01:57:40 AM EST
[ Parent ]
Well, when I come I will ;-)
Seriously though, you don't need a good cook for crepes, it's very simple. Provided you don't eat the first one. It's a law of physics I guess, but the first one is ALWAYS a failure (I don't know whether it's because of the distribution of temperature or the unnevenness of the fat in the pan, but you'll notice it when you try).

Other than that, it's just about putting the right quantity into the pan, spreading it, then when it is dry enough to detach easily, change side for a short while and it's done. Then add whatever you like to it.

Mmm, there is ONE other trick though: don't confuse your salty preparation with your sweet one. It could give a rather strange taste if you were to put jam on the salty one and cheese, ham and eggs (for example) on the sweet one.

Earth provides enough to satisfy every man's need, but not every man's greed. Gandhi

by Cyrille (cyrillev domain yahoo.fr) on Tue Sep 30th, 2008 at 06:09:46 AM EST
[ Parent ]
You go, Izzy!  Very glad to have met you and your great addition to the Paris memories.  

I hope the abuse of power you suffered heals soon.

Our knowledge has surpassed our wisdom. -Charu Saxena.

by metavision on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 09:43:31 AM EST
Thanks, metavision - I knew I could count on you for some proper sympathy.

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 04:04:07 PM EST
[ Parent ]
Welcome home.  (Judging from the time stamp I see you still have jetlag?)

I'm so glad you got to go.  I love the idea of a meetup as walking into a book.  I never thought of it that way before, but it's perfect.

Now ... to get you to a meetup on this side of the Atlantic.

by Maryb2004 on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 10:51:25 AM EST
Poor Izzy.  Stuck in Paris, tortured by those cruel foreigners.  

And all the time us Murikan ETers were bereft of your presence, singing:

:-)

She believed in nothing; only her skepticism kept her from being an atheist. -- Jean-Paul Sartre

by ATinNM on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 04:51:34 PM EST
Oh, Izzy, that is such a wonderful story. Series of stories? Anyway, I've been laughing to the point of tears. Thanks, merci, gracias.
by Mnemosyne on Sun Sep 28th, 2008 at 08:19:29 PM EST
Hi Izzy, good to see you got home well and seem to recover your spirits after your adventures.
by Fran on Mon Sep 29th, 2008 at 01:49:33 AM EST
Hey Fran!  Thanks!  And did I mention that you were the best roommate?  thanks so much again for helping make it such a wonderful trip!

Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding. -Hobbes
by Izzy (izzy at eurotrib dot com) on Mon Sep 29th, 2008 at 04:06:48 AM EST
[ Parent ]
thanks Izzy, I enjoyed sharing the room with you. However, there wasn't really much time to spend, as time seemed to just fly or maybe it has been eaten by does baby black holes. :-) Maybe there will be more time next time!
by Fran on Mon Sep 29th, 2008 at 09:47:16 AM EST
[ Parent ]
Note to self: fly home from Heathrow just like last time.

you are the media you consume.

by MillMan (millguy at gmail) on Tue Sep 30th, 2008 at 04:30:52 AM EST


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