Paris - the arrival (part 1)

Well, it has been a crazy past month, but I'm starting to get the picture that my life is always like this.  And it seems that the crazier it gets, the more stories I have to tell, and yet, the less I make it to a computer.  So maybe a quick catch-up? (and I'm seeming to get internet from someone at my apartment, so hopefully the blogging bug will hit me more at home, and less in the car on the ride home)

Just over a month ago, I took a leap and left my job.  Now don't get too worried (because some people did give me that look when I said I quit my job), I already had another one lined up.  And so far, yeah, it has been a fantastic move.

My final 2 weeks at Alaska were literally a whirlwind!  I interviewed on Wednesday, heard back that day that they liked me, got my offer, gave my acceptance and my resignation on Thursday - and left for Paris on Friday!

Paris was awesome - 4 days all to myself.  Getting on the flight was hairier than a French armpit, but I made it.  I watched enough movies both on the flight there and the flight back to practically make the ticket a moot point.  I think I got 4 in both ways? (yeah, that is what I said)  I beat that on the flight to Germany - 5.  Either way, the screaming baby did not help me sleep and the ear plugs did no good.  I landed safely in Paris (and let me say, I really think Lufthansa is the best international airline... Air France well, it was so-so.  I felt like I was just in their way... no chocolate or refills.  I had to get them on my own!  Sock-footed and climbing over someone both ways).

I got off the plane and got my stamp to say I officially was in Paris.  Wow, bouncing off the walls!  I found the RER, bought tickets and was off to my little hotel (seriously, little).

I even successfully avoided the beggars looking to "help" tourists.  How traveled am I?  And when I got off the RER and exited the station, who should meet me, but Ms. Notre Dame herself.  Wowza! Nothing beats that.  Off I set, in what I thought was the right direction, but probably 10 blocks later, I stopped, asked for directions and was forced to walk the other way.

Sweaty, hungry and sleepy, I arrived at my hotel and promptly took a nap.  Yes, I know, 4 days and I sleep?!  But I needed it.  When I awoke, well, the heavens could smell me, so I set off on my next adventure - the shower.  Wow... if I wasn't in the shower, I would have say it would have been the funniest thing you've ever seen.  It was smaller than most motor home's showers, and the plastic curtain was made to fit a full-size tub.  The water... wouldn't stay the correct temperature and I left the door open so the breeze combined with heat emanating from the sometimes scalding water forced the curtain to stick to me.  There was no place to put shampoo, conditioner, or soap near you, so you had to bend down - with shower curtain sticking.  Umm, wonder if they ever clean those?  And don't forget that the water has suddenly gone freezing cold so you must get it off as quickly as possible...ok, well, I finally finished.  And thankfully stepped out of that death trap.


On to drying my hair... with a hair dryer that resembled a mini-vacuum cleaner.  If my hair wasn't so short, it would have taken a year to dry.  Plus, the nozzle got too hot to hold, so finishing the job was difficult. ;-).

Finally dressed and ready to go, I headed out.  First stop, food.  I think I passed 5 cafes before I was finally like, damn it, sit down!  So I breezed into the next one, and the waiter promptly gave me a bathroom token and pointed.  Perplexed, I started to head in that direction, only to stop, turn back and have him point me downstairs.  Geez... lucky for the lady in the bathroom without the token, I didn't have to go.  Up the stairs I went again, and told the guy (in pointing motions) I wanted a seat.  Light bulb! Oh, stupid American, just sit anywhere (no, he didn't say that but I'm sure he thought it).  My ability to order food was just about as pathetic.  The menu was in French (duh) and so I opted for the easy option - I'll have the special (that way, I could point).  Note to self - never ask for the special when you have no idea what it is.  It was a strange fish mashed potato with a slice of something the size of a sardine on top.  And when in Rome... I ate it all.  Cutting the fish thing into 3 pieces, the first bite awful, the second bite caused and intense gag, and the third bite - well, I'm surprised I didn't throw up in that cafe right there!  It was one of the worst meals I've eaten, so much for French food.

What will happen next?  Will I lose my lunch and wish I'd saved that bathroom token?  Will I retreat to my room for a nap?  Do I even survive!?!