When you are the whale, you are the parade

I had a great time Friday evening attending a gathering to see my friend's fabulous New Zealand trip picture show, and then meeting up with friend Casey at Park Pub for hours to laugh about annoying tour guide experiences, among other things. This was my first time at the Park Pub, and in spite of the vinegary taste of the white wine I ordered, I really liked the vibe and food in this place a lot. A new hangout that's just down the street! Casey had a very good chimay blue. I would know, because instead of just ordering another drink, I made my big glass of bad wine (after glasses of very good wine at the first get-together) last the entire night and just helped myself to whatever drinks he had. I see that I fit into the People Who Will Just Have a Bite of What You're Having category on Lindy West's list of The Different Kinds of People That There Are. Order your own chimay!

I've thought about it, and I have a few categories I'd like to add to that list. One is Tour Guides Who Talk Incessantly on the Bus, Starting Their Rambling With "Ehhhhhh" Over the Loud Speaker, When You'd Rather Listen to Your MP3 Player or Doze Off.

I brought my Israel book, at Casey's request, but then the poor guy had to listen to my lecture about everything I learned, observed, or had an opinion about from that trip. I was a bit rusty but still managed to talk and talk. He was a good sport about the whole thing. I don't think I've laughed as much since Paris.

I'm really into the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs song "Zero." Although, when I looked up the lyrics I see that Karen O is singing "Your zero-oh" while I'm singing "You're a ZERO-OH!" as I'm wrapped up in the cool music and thoughts about who I might like to dedicate this song to if I had the chance. :) I'm a little off the mark.

After Friday, it's been a pretty much AS focused weekend. I spent a lot of time reading and taking notes from Eating an Artichoke for my book review, and then consulting my copy of the Complete Guide to AS by Tony Attwood. I finished Artichoke today, which was easy to do, because it was an engaging, fast read. Echo Fling wrote the book in 1999 (published in 2000), after dealing with years of doctors visits with wrong diagnosis, figuring out special education accommodations for an unclear disability, and basically navigating family life with a child with AS before having a pediatric neurologist give the correct diagnosis. Even then, at that time information and methods for teaching students with AS were pretty limited, so she had to figure out so much on her own with very little guidance. It's interesting to reflect on what has changed in the last 10 years in terms of awareness, research, published information, and intervention/coping strategies.

In my mind, Fling could have authored this book from a place of frustration, anger, self-pity, or exhaustion, and I would have understood. But no. She writes from a calm, compassionate, and matter of fact standpoint that I very much admire. As I learn more about AS/ASD, I feel like I'm starting to comprehend a bit how tiring and difficult it can be to learn to deal with this world, but this book showed the weight of responsibility and uncertainty for the parents too. Fling faced a lot of parenting challenges and dead ends in what has turned out to be her life's work to help her son. She so clearly has unconditional love for Jimmy, and she demonstrates pure devotion and patience in her efforts as a mother. She gets him in a way that no one else does and has experienced many successes over the years in helping him learn to function in the mainstream world. As a mother, she is a great advocate for him. And, from what she describes, he is a delightful boy (man now) with so many unique and extraordinary qualities.

Yet, in spite of the positive tone of the book, she was clear about the challenges. I kept notes, and I filled up an entire page of bullet points on difficulties faced by Jimmy and the Fling family as a result of the differences posed by AS. Very little is simple. Jimmy had to be taught how to communicate (initially used lines from favorite movies to do this), read expressions, and understand feelings, things most kids learn from "osmosis" from observing and interacting with the people around them. Teaching this requires starting with the very basics. He learns differently and can get confused easily if he's expected to do too much at once. Learning to dress himself and tie his shoes took a lot of time and effort. He has pretty big sound and tactile sensory issues that make things like going to an amusement park stressful, even if he looks forward to going for weeks in advance. For years he'd only wear one brand of socks and finding an acceptable alternative after he grew out of his preferred type took several tries. Christmas, other holidays, and trips have to be modified to avoid overload. Halloween was a stressful no-go most of the time, even though he liked dressing up. He had a lot of fear and anxiety about the act of trick or treating itself.

Jimmy has a preference for sameness and consistency and will ask the same questions about what's going to happen over and over again for reassurance, driving his mother a bit nuts. Change is really difficult and requires a lot of preparation, and he had a hard time (years) adjusting to the arrival of his sister. He'd become extremely upset if his mom changed something as minor has the color of his sheets. If Jimmy learns something incorrectly, it takes a huge amount of time to undo what was learned incorrectly and then process the right information. He doesn't like much physical contact and leans to hug. He obsesses and willfully won't let things go. As a kid, he obsessed over Thomas the Tank Engine and Toy Story, demanding that his mom purchase each one of the Thomas trains for his collection. He struggled to make friends and dealt with bullying. It was heartbreaking to note how upset Jimmy felt if he knew other people were laughing at or making fun of him, but most often he didn't know it was happening unless someone told him. It took a lot of time and great effort for him to control his stimming (hand flapping, humming) in public. Something as simple as ordering a cheeseburger or a pizza or inviting a friend over for a sleepover is an ordeal.

The list goes on, but you get the idea. The adjustments a family will make with a child who has AS/ASD are enormous. It's hard to imagine, and I don't think I truly understood the impact before. I'm not sure that I can now, either, but I've had a glimpse of what life is like for the parents and families.

Following up on Artichoke, tonight I watched Mozart and the Whale. Overall, I thought it was great, and I loved that there was such fantastic humor and good music throughout. I was deeply moved by the story, although I don't think I can describe why exactly. As was said quite a bit in the movie, I don't know what to say. I felt incredibly emotional while watching it, but not in a sad way really. It just got me.

--Meganar

P.S. Facebook friends, Paris pics are now up on my page. :)

I'm back in Seattle! It's alright. I miss being in Pair-eee right now. The trip already seems like a dream. It was very lovely. Of course, it's great to be back to my own bed and to return to more vegetarian-friendly food options. Paris isn't exactly a veggie city, and let's face it, there's only so much fromage (and bread and wine and salad) a girl can eat before she just wants a burrito. But still...Paris.

I got home early Friday afternoon, and by 3pm I was seriously tired. I hopped in the shower to wash of the plane before a "nap" and it was like the world was swimming around me. It was very strange. I don't think I've been that woozy before. I finished up as fast as I could, and pretty much fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I slept for five hours then got up for about 20 minutes, went back to sleep for another 8ish hours, got up for about an hour to eat something, then back to sleep for another few hours. 16 hours later...It was nuts. I spent the rest of the weekend lunching and brunching and having coffee and seeing movies and going out to dinner with friends. It was nuts. And then today it was back to work, and, after being in Paris, that was just...well...nuts. There is a theme.

Speaking of nuts, I became a fan of Nutella while away. Nutella on crepes, more specifically. Normally I don't like hazelnut, and I've never liked Nutella before, but it's grown on me, so much so that I'm going to pick some up at the store here.

I want to talk more about the trip, but I'm so sleepy again that I can't even think of the words to describe what I want to share with you. That's why I'm talking about Nutella. Adjusting to the time change has been a bit more challenging this trip, and I don't think it helped that I was there for daylight savings time. So, I'll save the Frahnce chat and instead ramble about my new guilty pleasure: Millionaire. Matchmaker. That's right, folks. I'm embarrassed to say that I'm totally sucked into this show. On top of that, I'm also into the 2nd season of Real Housewives of NYC (L.A. - blech! I can't stand the bleach-blond, fake plastic lameness of that one, but NYC is another hilarious story). I don't know why I love MM so much, but I do. I can't stop myself. When a marathon is on, I'm there. Patti's tough love bitchiness is the best. She's got a great 'tude. And, some of the guys are just over the top. I love the nicknames like Sex Toy Dave. I want her job! Anyway, if you can't find me, can't reach me on the phone, don't get a response to your emails, I'm probably in front of the tellie absorbed in MM.

This week I'm also returning to tutoring and jumping back into school. Have I mentioned that I'm so excited for my Autism class??? One of my early assignments is to write a book review of a memoir by a parent of a child with an autism spectrum disorder. Since it's due soon, I will be reading like crazy this weekend, but I think I've finally settled on a book which is the difficult part. It's called Eating an Artichoke: A Mother's Perspective on AS. It's gotten good reviews, but the title is what did it for me. Most likely I will share my book review with all of you too.

And now, my friends, my eyelids are closing as I'm falling asleep at the keyboard. I'm gonna sortie myself to bed.

Whoa Nellie!

What a day. It started off normally enough. Mols and I decided to take it easy this morning, with a slow start and relaxed shopping during the morning. Then, we headed off to the catacombs, which were, frankly, bizarre. It's dank in there (moist, if you will), and the ceilings were very low. I have to tell you that I felt very claustrophobic at first, and itched to run out of there a few times as we wound our way through the seemingly endless maze of tunnels. Everything in me screamed "Scram!" Clearly.




















OK, well, there was a period of adjustment, and moments of panic, but then I turned nutty by posing with the pointed toe (a habit I've had since childhood, which was further reinforced by having a best friend who is a dancer and fellow pointer). Molly, equally as nutty, looks like her feet are going to snap off at the ankles in this complicated maneuver. :) We're all about making light of a difficult sitch, ya know?

















The catacombs are more strange than creepy, although this looks a bit spooky. All those bones are just weird. And, at the end (Air! Fresh air!), they check people's bags to make sure you aren't making off with any bones or skulls. Can you imagine? Talk about awkward trying to explain your way out of THAT one. "Oh, silly me! How did that get in there???" Or, "Hey! That's mine! I brought it from home. Okaaaaaaaaay?" Plus, I just feel like you could have some bad, bad karma after removing them bones from their second resting place. I love that someone thought it was a good idea to fill in Paris underground with bones.





































We exited the catacombs with another small group who, we soon realized, contained "Nellie" from Little House on the Prairie tv all grown up. Same voice, though. It was our Paris celebrity sighting.

Then, we stopped at some stores near the Louvre to pick up some gift souvs. Waiting at a stoplight to cross over to the Metro on our way out, a pigeon pooed on my hair and shoulder. That was a real highlight of the trip. Now, I know from the movie Under the Tuscan Sun that in Italy a pigeon pooing on your head is supposed to mean good luck, but we're in Frahnce. Here I have the feeling the bird poo means, "Get out of my country you stoopeed American!"

Fine. I'm going.

THEN, Mols and I got ready to head out to the Eiffel Tower to see the twinkly lights before going to an old school cabaret show to celebrate her birthday and our last night in Paris. It was beauteous maximus, naturally.




















THEN, at the cabaret show--which I will describe in greater detail later, when it's not 2:30 in the morning and I have to get up in four hours, because it was HILARIOUS--I suddenly found myself pulled up on stage to HULA HOOP (badly) in front of everyone. I didn't foresee hula hooping as part of my day when I woke up this morning. Later on, Mols and I were up there doing the limbo, so it just got better. Really, people, at this point I've just accepted humiliation as a standard part of my life. In the movie The Holiday, which I saw recently on TNT or TBS or one of those, Kate Winslet's character talks about at least being the leading lady of your own life. I'm the leading lady of my own all-humiliation network. :)

Catacomb weirdness...Nellie...poo...hula hoop. Oh my. Anything can happen.

More soon, probably when I'm home. Until then I'm sending you all snooty French pecks on the cheek, one on each side.

Hello, everyone! I'm loving life in sunny Paris right now. The weather was dicey the first few days -- truly bizarre in that Seattle sort of way with constantly intermittent rain and sun. Now it's just bright and clear and much warmer. Yay!

Our hotel is cheerful and charming. My sis and I are sharing a sunny yellow room on the 6th floor (former maids' quarters, I'm sure) that has two balconies overlooking Rue de Rivoli, which leads to excellent people watching in this bustling area. We can also see the top of the Eiffel Tower (the "Eiff" -- word shortening has gotten out of control) from one of the balconies, which is lovely when the lights start flashing on the hour at night. We're across the street from the Saint Paul metro station, a grocery store, a yummy patisserie, cash machines, taxi station, and many delicious cafes and restaurants. It's a great place to be.

Poor Lindsay has been suffering from a back spasm the past couple of days, which has her pretty much bed ridden right now. Such a bummer, but the one positive is that it's forcing her to take a much-needed rest. Sadly she is going to miss our trip out to champagne country (Reims) tomorrow. The important thing is getting well enough for the long flight home on Friday.

Mols and I have really packed in the sites the past couple of days. In addition to climbing the six flights of stairs at the hotel, we have been walking machines. We've been to the Orangerie, Musee D'Orsay, Musee Rodin, Notre Dame, Hotel de Ville, La Tour Eiffel, the Louvre, and Arc de Triomphe, among general walking around to explore the city and shops. Today is our free day to see sites we want independently. In a bit I'm heading off to Sainte-Chapelle, Notre Dame, Place des Voges, Musee Picasso, and possibly the Musee Carnavalet. I'd also like to have some quiet time to just hang out on the balcony reading, or at a cafe sipping coffee. Oooo, and I must try some ice cream at Berthillon. It's going to be a full, full day. I'm looking forward to having time to wander around, engaging in the day, and being in my own head.

I gotta tell ya it's been a lot of fun checking out the fashion here. I've noticed that it's easy to see what the Parisians deem fashionable, particularly the women, because they all pretty much run with certain items, probably more so than in the U.S. where fashion isn't quite as uniform. For example, there are definite preferences when it comes to shoes. There is one type of boot that you see almost everyone wearing, and it's kind of strange to see just how "in" it is, even if there is a lot of variety in what kind of clothes people pair these boots with in creating an outfit.

This vacation is proving a good head-clearing and stress-reducing time. I think the past couple of months I've gotten so busy and narrowly focused that I needed this broader perspective to get out of that mode. And, it's just lovely here.

My class in winter turned out well, so I'm getting really excited to start the autism one when I return. I'm reading Autism's False Prophets by Paul Offit while on vacation. It's one of my class books, and it is just so incredibly interesting and eye-opening. I'm disturbed how quickly and easily the medical community, the media (especially), and the public will run with theories as fact when there is little scientific evidence to prove it. And, the faulty science that happened in this book scares me, because if it's happening in this one particular area, what else is going on? I'd recommend this read to anyone, whether you're interested in autism or not.

While on vacay, I'm taking a break from online dating, of course. My subscription ran out a couple of weeks before Paris, so I decided to give myself a rest until I got back. I've met quite a few nice and interesting people so far, but so far I haven't experienced major chemistry with anyone yet. Dating is fun and funny, at times, and I'm enjoying it for what it is right now. While poking around on MSN the other day, I came across this article, and the author's experience and viewpoint just resonated with me so completely. I too am prone to "unwitting hormonal bonding stronger than rational thinking" with the wrong men who aren't capable or who are unwilling to give me what I want. While this is ok, and I've learned a lot from doing this, having greater understanding of who I am and how I connect can allow me to make smarter and healthier choices for myself. I like this line because I'm right there: "My frequent experiences with the Wrong Man also taught me what I wanted this time around. I was looking for someone who could see my best self despite my imperfections. A gentle but strong man with the capacity to become as deeply devoted to me as I would be to him. In a word: available." Yes! Available is key! Also, "When the soap opera actor or the triathlete didn't call — both of whom had looked deep into my eyes and proclaimed their attraction to me — I did nothing. I let them go. I wanted a man whose actions matched his words." Exactly. Pretty words alone are just that. Empty pretty words. While I haven't dated anywhere close to 100 men yet, and, honestly, I'd rather not, coming across this article made me hopeful that I'm on the right track. If it takes dating 100+ men to find what I'm looking for, so be it. With greater clarity on who I am and what I want and my own personal boundaries, I have greater confidence that I will recognize the right person when he shows up.

On that note, I'm off. Or, as my sis and I now say, I'm sortie (right or wrong, we say it exactly as spelled, "sort-ee") More soon, my friends!

More Paris

Mols arrived today! Yay! We spent a few hours walking around the city and ended up taking some pics.

















Sunset tonight from our hotel room.

















This one is from a walk Lindsay and I took the other day.






















Church across the street from our hotel room. This was taken from one of our little balconies.





















The quieter side of Notre Dame.





















Today it would pour down rain, then get sunny. Pour down rain...sunny. This was a sunny moment at Notre Dame.

Bonjour!

I'm here and so incredibly happy! Had dinner at L'As du Fallafel, where not only is the food delicious, but so are the beautiful men working and dining there. I knew there was a reason why I love Paris!

After a long flight on a plane that smelled like a used wet wipe (due to fact that someone barfed in the aisle near our seats when the plane came into Seattle from Paris, and the staff kept trying to make the residual scent better by spraying Febreze and "Airplane Odor Remover" (who knew?) directly on the carpet, which only made it worse), I made it to the hotel and promptly fell asleep for a good chunk of the afternoon. Lindsay and I ventured out for dinner and a walk tonight, which was really nice. The flight itself wasn't too bad. Air France is pretty roomy, the food is good, and they have the personal movie players (watched Twilight and the start of Slumdog). But, there were bumpy skies from Greenland to Paris, which made it less relaxing. The important part is that we made it in one piece and that chunk of the adventure is over.

Good news for me; messy hair is "in" here. I'm fitting right in, except that everyone else's messy hair is stylish and chic, while mine is just, well, unintentionally messy. Not...quite...the...same.

From the balcony of my room in the Marais:

E-bossing: It's What I Do!

Yes, yes, I am an e-bosser. I'm notorious for it at this point. I e-bossed my sister via IM the other day, and she changed her headline to: "I've been e-bullied," just because I told her to buy Trav Candyland, among other things. I've done a lot of e-bossing this week.

I've noticed that I tend to be light on posting in January. It's not because I hate January or anything, like other people I know who all uniformly agree it sucks. Although, I went through an introspective, darker period for a few days at the start of the month, but I seem to be coming out of it. Don't worry, I don't need to get on the horn to hightail it back to therapy due to a serious emotional spiral. I am O.K. I finally realized and accepted that I'm a person who cycles through periods of light and dark. It's not useful to fight it, so I try to go with the flow. I tend to get this way at the new year, and sometimes I find that things I thought I'd laid to rest aren't quite done yet and pop up for another round of processing. Even if I know where it's coming from and why, I can't rationalize the emotions away. They are still there for me to deal with the best I can. This knowledge is both helpful and completely frustrating. As the famous quote says, "the best way out is always through," and I do it, but "through" can be a real motherf*cker sometimes. :-)

Anyway, I'm good! Life is busy and productive right now. I started my class this week. I think I'm going to like it. The teacher is quirky, with a very interesting structure for the class. It's based on community learning, and we're broken up into smaller groups. For the final, one member of the group will be randomly selected to take the test, on the day of the test, and the grade that person receives is the grade for the group. On one hand I'm like, GULP, but on the other, I think this is an incredibly fascinating way to build group cohesiveness. I'm looking forward to seeing how this goes.

Work is going well. It's very busy for me right now, but I'm doing stuff I like and feeling like I'm accomplishing things. The online dating is fun. I'm enjoying the process way more than I did last time, and I feel like I'm connecting with interesting people. My ankle is feeling so much better! I made it to the gym and walked to work a couple of times this past week, and it felt so wonderful to be more active again. Surprisingly, I've missed the gym. I'm still putting my life in order after all the holiday craziness, but I'm getting there.

Go see Doubt! It's sooooooo amazing. I will gush if I get started, and I feel like I've been gushing a lot lately. Em and I went to see it at the Guild, and the best part was the credits. As we're sitting there soberly watching them roll by, the very last person listed was the Stunt Coordinator. Now, basically this movie is about a couple of nuns, a priest, and some altar boys at a Catholic school. No one is hanging by the chandeliers or jumping from the roof of the church. Usually they are walking or sitting, and it's a lot of talking. Meryl Streep changes a light bulb. Does that count? Bottom line: while full of suspense, there is no action. Both Em and I saw this on the credits, but while I was just sitting there quickly summarizing the movie in my head for stunts, Em exclaimed, "Stunt Director! What?" And we both lost it. I could not stop laughing. There were tears rolling down my face. It's was like the blurry/clear picture debacle with Shannon at Snoqualmie Falls.

I'm so loving this streak of good movies right now.

Molly gave me this fabulous book called Hungry for Paris for Christmas. I'm having a great time going through it, reading all the delicious descriptions, to pick out places to eat on the trip. I'm growing increasingly excited to go. The pull is getting stronger and stronger.

I heart this Slate op on Good Grief: Why I love the melancholy Peanuts holiday specials. Because I do love them. I really, really do. Almost nothing sounds better to me than cozying up on the couch in my soft PJs, with a warm blanket, to watch a Charlie Brown with some hot cider and a treat (preferably chocolate). I'm immediately into it. Bring on the childhood nostalgia. The slow pace is soothing. The lines are poignant and hilarious, with humor that also has grown-ups in mind, making me both laugh and cry. I like the catchy music and the "wah-wah" of the teacher speak. I adore the characters, and I find something comforting in their voices. Like Lucy, I'm the kind of girl who isn't shy about giving advice, and I probably would pull the football away at the last second to see Charlie B. fly up in the air and fall, because everyone knows I enjoy witnessing a good trip. (Enjoy = laugh hysterically) The animation and colors, the music, the stories, all of it is absolutely perfect. I tend to miss them on TV nowadays, though, so I'll probably have to buy the deluxe holiday collection.

Seattle's The End's Deck the Hall Ball has an awesome line-up this year. My friends and I are talking about it, and I'm tempted to go. The Killers! Cold War Kids! Aqueduct! Death Cab! Another one that's hard to resist. I think Em and I are going to go see Goodness at the Tractor in a couple of weeks as well. Goodness is a band whose music I totally associate with being 18 and newly out in the world on my own, sharing my first apartment with my friend Chris.

My ticket for my trip to Paris this spring is now purchased, and I am overwhelmingly excited to go! Yay!!! I'm about getting my hands on all things Paris to read right now. I just cannot wait to go and spend endless hours in cafes and museums and just enjoy being in this fabulous city. We're going to stay at the Hotel Sevigne, so I need to learn more about the neighborhood!

Election night was truly fantastic. Thanks to my lovely friends for hanging out and celebrating with me. I'm so happy and proud of America today! I can't get over feeling so good about how things turned out. It's like a huge weight has been lifted.

Here's to hope and change!

I'm very !!!! I should probably cut back on all my exclamations in case I'm coming across as too peppy. Peppy can be annoying.

Paris!

Oh man, oh man, oh man. Direct flights on Air France to Paris this spring are totally reasonable, and I'm dying to go! Lindsay and I are thinking about jetting off at the end of March, and I sooooooooooo want to do it, even though I don't really have tons of moola lying around for a trip like this. Still. It's been over four years since my last trip, and I miss it so much. I was talking to someone a few weeks ago about Paris, and I explained to him that I miss the city in the same way that I'd miss a person I'm completely in love with. There is longing involved. I want to smell its comforting scent again. I want to eat delicious food and drink rich coffee, and wander around museums for hours and hours, and browse shops just to look at the beautiful clothes, and hang out around the Eiffel Tower and see the pretty lights at night, and use more French (slash learn more French) than pain au chocolat. But, while we're on the subject, I want to eat pain au chocolate, maybe two, every day for breakfast before walking miles around the city! Last time there was a cute little bakery right by our hotel that made deliciousness. I want to ride the Metro and dodge the charming dog poo littering the sidewalks pretty much everywhere, because I don't think the French subscribe to the clean-up rule. Like most irrational romantic entanglements, I'm sure I totally idealize how great it is, but I do believe that Paris delivers in so many ways, poo excluded.

Does it sound like I'm sold on going?

In other non-Frenchie news, my lovely friend Shannon sent me a link to Jill Bolte Taylor's My Stroke of Insight talk. It's pretty amazing. She's a brain researcher who was awake and "alert" as her own body went through a massive stroke. Her explanation of the process is incredibly interesting, and the ending message of what this experience taught her is so very moving, and, well, very much in line with beliefs that I hold dear. Also, she gives a very clear description of the differences between the left and the right sides of the brain (even showing a brain--Ew!--for illustration). It's about 18 minutes long, and, as Shannon advised, make sure you watch it all the way through. It goes by fast; you won't be bored.

I gotta tell ya that Costco was a blast. I spent too much money, but it was fun. They are starting to carry more organic foods, so I got some really great stuff, not to mention my favorite Odwalla juice. Oh, and I bought these yummy, non-organic (wait, I was wrong, it is organic--even better!) butternut squash ravioli that I made with browned butter, mizithra, broccoli, and toasted pumpkin seeds. :-) I also ended up splitting some Pyrex with Monice, and we got matching socks. Soon, I'm going to be matchy-matching with all my friends, because whenever I go shopping with any of them, we usually end up with at least one duplicate item. Finally, an item I'm truly loving is very soft PJs. I'm probably going to have to pony up for a membership, because otherwise I foresee me presenting Monice with long lists and trying to coerce her into doing my shopping for me.

I have more to say, but I must go. Soon!

Bonjour!

So far, that is about the extent of French vocab I've mustered the courage to use in my two or so days here. That and merci, and maybe oui. I almost had a good opportunity at the Orsay yesterday, when a woman approached me, with a hopeful expression, and said something rapidly in French. I led into responding with "I don't understand" with an um, and her face fell. "You don't speak French do you?" she asked in American Engligh. I shook my head sadly, and without a word she turned and marched off. Apparently, while I'm avoiding speaking too much, others are itching for practice. I'm the wrong girl for that, but I'm the right girl for taking pictures. I can't even count the number of tourists, of all nationalities, who stop me to ask if I will take their pictures. Maybe I don't look like the type to run off with their expensive cameras. Dunno.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Our very long trip from Seattle to Toronto to London to Paris was fairly uneventful. We had a near miss in Toronto. Due to ticketing issues on Air Canada's end, I had to pick up my boarding pass for the London stretch in Toronto. Major fiasco. The airport is huge with few useful signs. Finally, someone helped us, and with 25 minutes until our plane was set to depart and pass in hand, we were directed to a "shuttle" to zip us to our gate. It turns out that the shuttle is basically a big bus with a driver more interested in chatting with his buddies outside while harried travelers stare at him impatiently from inside for several minutes. Finally, we were off and traveled at the incredibly slow speed of 10 miles per hour. Seriously, a horse and buggy could have gotten us their faster. For those of you into Ellen, it was a "I could have gotten out of the car and walked faster than the car was moving. Sorry I had to pass you..." moments. We made it to our gate when the plane was supposed to be leaving, and luckily it was delayed for about 20 minutes so we were OK. Mental note: Avoid Toronto from now on.

The flights were smooth; the Eurostar ride went by in a sleep haze. Once we arrived I was ready for a nap. The hotel is charming and cute on a quiet street. Lindsay and I are sharing a shoebox-sized room with twin beds pushed together, just short of being a legal double, I think. After a rest, we were ready to hit the town in search of dinner and the Eiffel Tower. Both were a wonderful, perfect ending to our first official day.

Paris is an interesting city. While many things are different, many are the same. The things I thought I'd notice most are perhaps not the things that catch my attention now that I'm here. I figured it would take me a long time to get over the old buildings and layout of the town. Instead, all the smells fascinate me. Walking down a street, you can quickly move from a dirty urine garbage smell to sweet flowers to a strong sent of baguette, even when baguette is not present. But most of all, there is an underlying smell that represents the years of this city, like slightly musty aged wood. It's distinct and mostly pleasant.

Yesterday, we purchased 3 day museum passes, so we are on a museum mission. We managed to fit in Napolean's tomb, the WWII wing of the Military Museum, and Orsay. Today, we spent a couple of hours at the Louvre before finding this internet cafe. Orsay was amazing and we spent nearly 4 hours there. The art and the building. Monet! Van Gogh! Renoir! Tons and tons of amazing paintings, brilliant colors. The tourists who stand around snapping pictures of the artwork crack me up. A photograph isn't going to capture it. I am blown away and never seem to tire of staring at these gorgeous works. Also, Orsay has a gorgeous old ballroom that I absolutely loved and decided I must have as an attachment to my apartment. I have decided we are now referring to it as "Megan's Ballroom." Tomorrow, I think we're going to take a trip to Versailles with some of the db crowd.

So, do I love it? I don't know yet. I'm having a truly wonderful time seeing so many beautiful new things, enjoying the city, and experiencing the culture. I've learned Parisian Pedestrian Behavior and am pretty good at dodging speeding cabs and buses. Yesterday, I think I was in culture shock but today I find myself warming to it and appreciating the differences. Trying hard not to be one of those obnoxious Americans. I've had very good food and really, really yummy coffee.

I hope this is not a complete mess, as I'm typing quickly and not reading what I write. I'm sure I have tons more to report, but I'm paying by the minute and need to get going on to our next musuem of the day. I've just been informed that the network is down, so I hope I can post this before I go. I'll give it a whirl...

I never thought I'd call myself a blogger...

But here I am.

Welcome everyone to my first post! I am crazy excited as I write this, because the purpose of this site, so far, is to keep you updated on my upcoming adventures in Europe. Starting tomorrow. Unexplored countries, unexplored blogging. It's almost too much for this girl to handle.

After I return, who knows what I will do with this. It could remain a journal for trips to other exciting vacation destinations...such as Klamath Falls, Oregon. Another idea under consideration is using it as my personal soapbox for very important world and celebrity issues. Or, you know, it's just the case that sometimes interesting, funny, blog-worthy things happen, and I'm convinced it's up to me to post them. I can dish!

By the way, if you click on my profile and see a whole lot of nothing, it's not because I'm lazy (in this case). Profiles are temporarily unavailable while the blog experts troubleshoot technical difficulties. Besides, you all know me.

Next time you're here, I'll be posting internationally. And, I won't be spell checking. Happy reading!