September 2002 archive

(124 entries)

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September 29, 2002

Call me Nombrile

Sophie has just informed me that Sarah means "belly-button" in Arabic. Delightful.

srah | 4:49 PM | TrackBack | Tags: language |

Happy birthday

I don't know if I will be at a computer between now and Tuesday, so happy birthday to my beloved little duckling, who will soon save me from admitting that I'm dating a teenager. Muchas smooches.

I'm in Grenoble for the weekend, staying with my host family and picking up my suitcase. Françoise wanted to do something to entertain me this afternoon (which is very nice, considering I'm not their American anymore), so she and Jean-Pierre and I went to the Monastère de la Grande Chartreuse, a monastery nearby where the Carthusian order was started and where they make the liqueur. It was a nice museum tour and we walked around the grounds a bit, which are completely lovely. It's a very wild, natural area, surrounded by mountains and greenness and forest animals. A very agreeable afternoon spent, and a recommended visit if you're in the Isère.

srah | 3:18 PM | TrackBack | Tags: travel |

Meeuuuuh! (28.9.02)

Vichy's one-and-only (that I've found, anyway) Internet café is running over with nerdtosterone. That's the only way I can think of to describe it. Upon entering their dark, dank lair, I immediately feel out of place, as I am almost always a) the only female and b) the only one not playing computer games.

The residents of Echapp sit there for hours at a time (which I know because I myself am there for hours at a time), spending Euro after Euro (the place is rather expensive), playing violent computer games. One of the games involves shooting people on a farm or something. I sit there, surfing away, surrounded by mooing and gunshots and the defeated screams of the players who have accidentally shotten each other.

A la chasse (28.9.02)

Today I was wasting time before my train by wandering around the pedestrianiwed shopping area of Vichy and heard English. I hid on the other side of the postcard rack and listened, but they weren't talking anymore. I followed them down the street and I think I freaked them out by the way I was staring. I finally approached them (I wasn't going to, but I thought I should explain why I was being so creepy) and found out that they were Irish, Swedish, German, etc., that they were (for reasons I didn't ask about) staying in a castle in the middle of nowhere, and that they had come to Vichy for a visit to the Big City. I thought that was amusing because most of the vichyssois I've met leave Vichy for a taste of city-living.

srah | 3:01 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

Douze heures (28.9.02)

My work schedule has yet to be worked out, but I know that it will be twelve hours a week, which they will try to fit into three days a week. Thus, I have 156 hours a week left to fill. If you want une carte postale vichyssoise, email me your address. I imagine I will be doing a lot of writing.

srah | 3:00 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

Le plaisir des petites choses (28.9.02)

Agnès lent me La première gorgée de bière by Philippe Delerm. It's quite an enjoyable series of essays, each no more than three pages long, about some small pleasure or displeasure in life, described in great detail, à la Amélie Poulain or ickle. It's a pretty easy read and essays and short stories are always nice because you can put them down and pick them back up later.

Presque pas (28.9.02)

Yesterday I went to a meeting of the Club Cinéma with Agnès. At one point, when they were talking about recruiting young people from the Pôle Lardy and the CAVILAM, Agnès pointed out that une assistante américaine had come to the meeting of her own free will, and there must be other young people who would be interested.

So after the meeting, hordes of people came up to talk to me and find out where I was from and what I was doing in Vichy. Americans are much rarer here than in Grenoble. The Vice-President of the club, who is very entertaining, said I had almost no accent. This was reassuring, because I've been feeling like a stumbling beginner ever since I got here, spitting out horribly accented, grammatically incorrect sentence fragments. However, I must admit that he was basing this on the phrase I've had plenty of experience with, because I've so often had to explain my status in France: "Je suis assistante d'anglais au lycée Valery Larbaud à Cusset." I have gotten very good at parroting this out to people.

srah | 6:41 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, french |

Dream (28.9.02)

I had a very pleasant dream last night where I was watching the first episode of MDs. Dr. Dalgety arrived at the hospital and Dr. Kellerman, the reckless rule-breaking doctor already installed at the hospital, didn't like him. He didn't trust Dr. Dalgety because he suspected he was one of them. I was rather disappointed that Dr. Kellerman wasn't better-looking - he looked sort of like a ferret.

There was a sort of segue as the show started to focus on the medical students, à la Scrubs. Now I was in the dream and was the main character, who was male. There was one other male and one other female student. We went to a bar with the female student's friend, who I was madly in love with.

Somewhere in the middle of this, I found myself (my actual self) walking down the street in Vichy, and overhearing a conversation between two 2002 Huron High School graduates where one (who I used to call the Snowman, because he had a round head and a round body) was confessing that he was pining away for my sister. IN the dream, I thought it was a shame that this was only a dream because Becky would have been interested to know that.

Then it was back to the Scrubs-dream and I was a sort of omniscient narrator who occasionally jumped into the characters' bodies. I could tell that the main character had a crush on the friend and that the friend had a crush on the narrator, the was one can tell these things while watching TV. They didn't know it themselves, but the female medical student wrote a note to the main character on a strange clear plastic envelope, telling him to go for it. Somehow when I, the omniscient narrator, then jumped into the main character's body, I took my brain with me, and he could see the situation the same way I had. He burst into the room and grabbed the friend and kissed her.

It was very satisfying to watch, as it always is in movies and TV when two characters finally get together.

September 27, 2002

Productivity up

Today I opened a bank account, had lunch with Renata, applied for my carte de sejour, and bought socks (I have way too many, but with the whole thinking-I'd-be-wearing-skirts thing, I didn't bring enough. If I can go a while longer without doing laundry, that's good, because I don't have time right now).

srah | 9:54 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

September 26, 2002

Make you drink from his special cup, Dr Robert

So, how was MDs?

srah | 5:47 PM | TrackBack | Tags: john hannah, mds, tv |

Caught up!

I thought it would take more than one evening, but I typed up all of the posts I had written down in my notebook in my hotel room. Hurrah. And it's a good day, for many reasons.

1) I have an apartment. I had called Mme Alléas, who had Mme Massena call me, and I really had no idea what was going on. But I had a meeting with Mme Massena today and she showed me one of 15 apartments she has to rent in the Villa Montcalm, which she just bought from Mme Alléas, I guess. It's cheaper than the other one, the utilities are included in the price, and it has an oven, so that's good enough for me! I move in next week and Agnès is letting me store my suitcases in her apartment until then.

2) I found the other Americans. I checked my voicemail this morning and had three messages: two from Jennifer and one from Renata. Just yesterday I had despaired of ever finding them, and here I am, getting in touch with them both on the same day. I spent a few hours with Jennifer this afternoon and am having lunch with the two of them tomorrow.

3) I found an Internet café. Actually, Jennifer found it. Hooray! No one I had talked to knew anything about a cybercafé in Vichy, but here it is, with its ten posts (nothing, compared to Neptune!)

4) I might be able to take Spanish classes. Jennifer and I went to the CAVILAM, a language institute in Vichy. They specialize in teaching French to foreigners, then in teaching English to the French, but they do have a few classes in other languages. I have until the week of the 7th to figure out if I want to spend 211€ on intermediate Spanish lessons.

5) I feel somewhat settled. Now I just have to get a bank account, get my carte de séjour, do my paperwork at the school, and move in. I feel like things are starting to fall into place. Whereas yesterday I was calling my mommy and sobbing in a cabine téléphonique, today I am plutôt contente de la vie.

srah | 5:19 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

These boots weren't made for walking

Come to France, bored and lonely, if you're looking to lose a few pounds. Or a few inches of shoe leather for that matter. I have nothing to do so I just walk around downtown, searching the feet of passers-by for American-looking shoes.

srah | 5:03 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, readers' choice |

"Yum yum" said Max

Do you know Max? Never mind.

Another delicious gastronomic specialty of the Auvergne is... beef tongue. I am in a "Tex-Mex/Français" restaurant where that is the plat du jour. I am having a steak-frites instead.

srah | 5:01 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, food |

Damn you, Immo Vichy (25.9.02)

I finally got to visit an apartment today. This one was through an agency, Immo Vichy. The Immo Vichy woman showed me the apartment, which was a delightful studio (read: kitchen in the bedroom) with construction work going on outside, no closet space, no linens, and no oven, all for the delightful price of 250€, which of course does not include tax or utilities. I told her I'd call her.

I got an email from one of the other American assistants in the Vichy agglomeration, telling me her phone number and address and saying she was lonely and had an apartment. Unfortunately, it's too good to be true, as the number she gave me doesn't work and the buzzer outside the place she gave me the address of doesn't have her name on it yet, so I don't know which buzzer is hers.

I'll try again tomorrow, but it's very frustrating. I'm cold and tired and very very lonely (despite Agnès, one of the English profs, who makes an effort to take me out and invite me over). I want my own place and an oven and a real telephone line I can call to the US on. I want to know if I'm going to be living on my own and need to be frugal or if I can share with Jennifer and not worry about it so much. I want an address so I can get a bank account so I can get a carte de séjour so I can get paid. I want to pass one day where I don't burst out sobbing at some point from the stress and frustration and loneliness. HELP ME.

srah | 4:57 PM | TrackBack | Tags: apartment, assistantship, frustration, housing, vichy |

Abbrev. movie review (24.9.02)

Saw La Callas tonight with profs from V. Larbaud. Don't know English title. Music v. good. Film dragged when there was no music. On the whole recommended, as is soundtrack.

Saw preview for I'm With Lucy (dubbed).

srah | 4:47 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, movies |

A la chasse aux appartements (24.9.02)

Everything is taken or the contact number is wrong. Or it's too far away on the wrong side of town. I give up. I'm moving into the basement of l'Opéra. You can hear me play the organ and whine about Christine.

On a more serious note, I do get to visit one (overpriced, one-person) apartment tomorrow afternoon. It is supposed to have an oven. So maybe even if I'm a masked recluse, I can bake cookies. Odd mental picture, that.

srah | 4:45 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

Shopping (24.9.02)

Srah's big purchases of the day: a portable and new shoes. The shoes were for the feet that were tired of high-heeled boots and too cold for sandals. The phone was for contacting prospective apartment-renters. -Rentees? -Loaners?

The phone is red and has many features, including an alarm clock (very useful). The shoes are black bowling-style shoes and have many features, including laces (also very useful). The end.

srah | 4:40 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

Le lycée Valery Larbaud à Cusset (24.9.02)

I went to my school today to meet people and find out where it is. I walked, regretted it, and later bought new shoes. It's a very nice, modern building, built in 1997. It's full of glass and fountains and light. Do they have tornadoes in France? And more importantly, nicetomeetyoucanIuseyourcomputers?

srah | 4:34 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

Mlle. Dupont (24.9.02)

Robin and Cheryl jokingly asked if I would get to take on a French name while I was here, the way we did in middle school language classes. Well, I'm giving it serious thought. People have a real problem with putting a C right after an M in my name. I can see why: McN doesn't seem quite pronounceable. But there is so much time-wasting and confusion, and so much attention brought to me and my name, that I give up.

Following the spelling disaster, there is the standard "C'est ecossais, non?", which often leads to the misunderstanding that I myself am Scottish. I usually just let people think that. I think my hotel owners do. But then that can lead to more problems, like the German money exchange man who saw that my middle name was Abigail. He said "That's a German name," and I replied that it was English as well. "And Spanish," I added, as an afterthought. Then he started asking his colleague if she spoke Spanish so we could speak to each other in Spanish.

srah | 4:23 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

Welcome to historic Vichy! (23.9.02)

I arrived, set off on the wrong street, got lost. Pulled out my bulky guidebook (the one with I AM A TOURIST written all over it in bright orange flashing letters), got to the hotel, pulled on the door, and it was locked. Why was it locked at 6:30pm? I tried again. I looked around for a doorbell for a while and thus was just standing outside the hotel when the manager came up to the door and pushed it open. Do you see our little problem there? There's really nothing to say in these situations, in English or in French.

I got my room, went upstairs and unloaded some of my crap, and started exploring, by which I mean getting lost. It was exploring until it started to rain and then it was being lost. I found my way back to the hotel, got my raincoat, and set off again, this time in search of a public telephone and some dinner.

Vichy, you are sorely lacking in three things. One is a cybercafé. Two is pedestrian crossing signals. And three is public telephones. I wandered all over, getting as lost as the last time, but finally found two. I will never be able to find my way back, however.

Then I went in search of dinner. I wanted something more than a sandwich, but that necessitated a horrible event: Dining Alone.

I don't mind dining alone as much in the US. Or I guess I don't, because I don't remember ever doing it. What makes it difficult in France is that a meal is so long (especially if you are an imbecile like moi and order a four-course menu). If you grab a sandwich, you are Girl on the Run, too busy to stop. If you sit down, you can feel the gaze of the other diners, wondering what this girl is doing, eating all alone. Or, in my case, you can hear the other diners. I only caught snippets, but I'm pretty sure the people at the next table were speculating about me.

Despite the loneliness and the stares, dinner was good. I had forgotten how much I liked fromage blanc, a cheese with a taste/texture sort of like cream cheese mixed with sour cream. You add sugar, stir, and enjoy the calcium seeping into your brittle little bones. Or at least I do.

In closing, I leave you with a somewhat altered Monty Python quote: "The town is full of French people... some of whom... are very old."

srah | 1:05 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, food |

Early-year stress (23.9.02)

I've never rented an apartment or looked for an apartment or moved for that matter. I think I will survive, though, as long qs all of the apartments haven't been taken already.

Now I'm wondering about all of the other things I have to do. There's so much bureaucracy and red tape (I can't remember the French word - is it paperasse?) to get through and there's a specific order to the steps, because one must have tel document before one can acquire tel document, which one must have before one can do suchandsuch. This wouldn't be so bad if everything didn't contradict itself. Ah, la France.

srah | 12:40 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

... and Pat the Bunny (23.9.02)

I amuse myself in airports and train stations by playing Spot the American. It seems to me, however, that I am not as good at the game as I used to be. This may be a temporary thing that will pass once I settle in and stop thinking everyone I see is American, in the hopes that it's one of my fellow assistants.

Sometimes I'm allowed to think I've won, but thanks to cell phones, one of my Americans always rings and answers in perfectly accented French. Drat.

srah | 12:40 PM | TrackBack | Tags: travel |

Dream (23.9.02)

I dreamt last night that there were these people who were having a lot of problems adopting a child. I don't know if I, myself, was in the dream at all, but it made me very sad.

Then I dreamt I had to go back to Albion for another semester and they put me in Wesley Hall (which didn't look like Wesley in my dream). I knew which hall I was on, but not which room. I wanted the big room because I was a senior, but I thought it would be unfair to my roommate because I was leaving for France in two weeks and it would be sad to be in that big room all alone. I wondered why they had given me as a roommate to a Native Speaker if I was leaving. I went in search of my RA to see which room was mine. I must have walked through a mall, a hospital, and an airport. Finally I came to my elementary school gymnasium, where a gang was hanging out, led by Horatio Sanz from Saturday Night Live. He pinched my butt really hard; which didn't hurt so much as it made me feel embarrassed and violated. Somehow I escaped, then I woke up.

I was so sad and frustrated after those two dreams that I went back to sleep and luckily had a happier dream, which I don't remember at all.

srah | 12:39 PM | TrackBack | Tags: dream |

Found: one Internet café

Yay. Millions of posts to follow.

September 25, 2002

'Allo 'Allo

Hello, I'm alive. I'm in Vichy and looking for apartments. I'm using the computer at the home of one of the English teachers, so... more when I have more time. Bye!

September 23, 2002

Is it Wednesday yet?

I realized no one's seen the new site yet because it's 7:30am on a Monday in the US. Never mind my loneliness.

Don't forget to watch this on Wednesday!

srah | 7:36 AM | TrackBack | Tags: blog, john hannah, mds, tv |

Un moment à la John Adams

Is anybody there? Does anybody care?...

Would you mind leaving a blah blah, just to reassure me that you've made it to the new address and that the blah blahs are still working? Sniff sniff.

srah | 6:34 AM | TrackBack | Tags: blog |

So says you

Yesterday Sophie and Srah and I did a quiz that said I would be a good librarian.

How Are You Smart?

[via Dark Star]

srah | 6:19 AM | TrackBack | Tags: quizzes |

September 22, 2002

Leaving on a jet train

Or the slow kind, actually. I'm off to Vichy tomorrow, to get my bearings, meet people at my school, and look around for an apartment, as if I know how to do such a thing. AAAAAAAH! Stress time again.

srah | 3:50 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

First random poetry at new location

From Rob's Poetry Generator

srah And the Old
dead English When
I hate you, expect to
travel, but they would like
a pretty
interesting story, on the words
wretched hive and a Sixth Sense
I leave for the pie pan. The life
of cinema did about it is a lasting
positive impact on purpose.
I kept coming to see them
was nice to radio
static, punctuated occasionally by the Monday
Mission Tuesday Wednesday Whimsy Thursday
Threesome Friday Five
minutes on
someone life. which makes
me and those
you
are
supposed to wish
myself actuallyI went home That freaked
me feel lonely.

srah | 3:18 PM | TrackBack | Tags: poetry |

Je ne sais pas que idioma wo am speaking de temps en temps

With 22 years of English, 10 years of French, 1 year of Spanish, and 1 semester of Mandarin Chinese, my mind is a big linguistic muddle sometimes. I was showing my Chile pictures to Françoise last night and would switch to Spanish whenever I said a Spanish place-name, although I pronounced the Spanish place-name à la française. When I was talking to the other Srah and other Morins would enter the room, I would try to speak to them in English. When I took Chinese and didn't know the Chinese word, it would come out in English. When I'm on the phone in one language and surrounded by the other, no one understands what's going on.

What I find most interesting in this post by Meg is that my brain seems to have the same distinction between two language areas that hers does: English and "foreign". Just read it. It's funny and very true, if you've ever studied another language or travelled abroad.

srah | 1:15 PM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, chinese, english, french, language, spanish |

Dear me

I think it's finally working. Hello there.

srah | 11:14 AM | TrackBack | Tags: |

Bye bye Albion

See you soon at the new location...

srah | 10:57 AM | TrackBack | Tags: |

Surprise!

My domain name has finally resolved (communication problems with Aletia, then with the company that bought Aletia...) anyway, I hope to have the blog moved there soon!

srah | 10:52 AM | TrackBack | Tags: |

Frigid

Françoise's brother Michel and his wife, Brigitte, came for lunch yesterday. It was nice to see them again and they recognized me from the last time. When I told them what I was doing in France and told them I was going to be near Vichy, their reaction was Oh là là, c'est pas un peu humide là-bas? Lovely.

When I told Antoine I was going to be somewhere in Auvergne, he told me it was the coldest region in France.

Cold and wet. So of course now I've been here two days and am wondering what idiot packed my bags. At the time, skirts seemed like a practical idea for a teaching assistant. Now they just look cold. And remind me again why I brought one pair of comfortable walking shoes?

srah | 6:02 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

The Sunday Op-Ed

1. What kind of cinema did Cheryl and I accidentally wander into two years ago?

2. What kind of bar have I never been to?

3. What did Rotolu used to do when he slept in French class?

Click on the Op-Ed icon to see the answers and feel free to play along!

September 21, 2002

I'm With... myself, actually

I went tonight to see I'm With Lucy, a John Hannah film that has been released in France and nowhere else. I saw it dubbed into French, because I figured that was better than not seeing it at all. It was kind of oddly composed and I think that if I had been making it, I would have done it differently... or made it into two separate movies. Anyway, it was very entertaining, so I recommend it. I'm sure I'll see it again. The problem I had with the movie was that it was very romantic and made me feel lonely. Can I not see another romantic movie for seven months? Sigh...

srah | 2:31 PM | TrackBack | Tags: i'm with lucy, john hannah, movies, reviews |

Oi be a French Pirate

It's probably for the best that I missed Talk Like a Pirate Day, because it would have been hard to do in French.

My pirate name is:
Red Grace Kidd
Passion is a big part of your life, which makes sense for a pirate. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!

[via Lenlowland]

Hey you!

It's Banned Books Week. Or maybe it was last week. Or maybe it's next week. Anyway, go find something scandalous to read.

Happy yamiversary

I don't know why I put "yam". Maybe I'm insane.

Anyway, in case I don't get to a computer tomorrow (yeah right - what else is there to do in Grenoble on a Sunday?), happy first anniversary to my beloved widdle Pato and myself. Am I supposed to wish myself a happy anniversary? I don't know - I've never had one before.

srah | 10:07 AM | TrackBack | Tags: boys |

On the Town

Last night I went out with the other Srah and her fellow Boston University program participants. First, we went to see L'Auberge espagnole, which I recommend highly to anyone who anyone who has studied, is studying, or will study abroad. It's a very accurate portrayal of the situation. It takes place in Barcelona, with students from all over Europe studying there as part of the Erasmus program (a European university exchange program).

After the movie, we went to Les Trois Canards, a very crowded bar downtown. I got rather tipsy (to the point where if I turned my head, it took a while for my vision to catch up) from one kir, then we wandered around for a while, looking for Club Vertigo. We finally gave up and went home to sleep (yay).

srah | 6:27 AM | TrackBack | Tags: alcohol, assistantship, france, grenoble, l'auberge espagnole, movies |

September 20, 2002

Of course

i'm a rabbit.what kinda pet are you?

[via Chez Kamblue]

srah | 11:25 AM | TrackBack | Tags: quizzes |

Weird...

I've found another Srah! And she lives in my house! This is an entirely bizarre situation. We are going to the movies tonight.

Two of my fellow assistants have also been added to my list of blogs: Hello! and Chez Kamblue.

Yay

All done with those posts. Pardon the Qs where there should be As and Zs where there should be Ws - the French keyboard is arranged differently and it will take me a while to get used to it.

I'm here in Grenoble for the weekend, then I'll be off apartment hunting in Cusset/Vichy next week. Hopefully I can find somewhere there to blog!

srah | 8:44 AM | TrackBack | Tags: |

Half-baked

Earlier this summer, the ol' high school gang and I would go out to the bar every night. After a few weeks of this, we were exhausted and destitute, so we had to come up with a new way to waste our time: baking. It's something we used to do all of the time when we were in high school. It was a return to the old days, when we were underage. The best thing about baking is that you spend a fun evening together, then you get something out of it at the end.

Sophie and I baked chocolate chip cookies at the end of my year in Grenoble. We were using a US recipe and had some American measuring cups and things, but a lot of the measurements were eyeballed, including oven temperature. We burned some, some were flat, and we added more flour halfway through the baking process. But they were still yummy.

So I've decided anyone who likes to bake can't be half bad. Do you like to bake?

srah | 8:40 AM | TrackBack | Tags: food |

And so it begins

It only took me two hours in France to start seeing people who aren't there. Not in a Sixth Sense "I see dead people" kind of way, but in the way where I look at people and think they're people I know. I think I'm lonely.

srah | 8:32 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship |

Yo no soy el chupacabra

While waiting for my train at the airport train station, a woman came up to me and started speaking Spanish. Am I sending out Spanish vibes? Maybe it was because I was wearing the outfit Alexandra says I stole from her, so the woman thought I was Ecuadorian.

I understood (almost) everything the woman was saying, but I was afflicted with dumbness. I nodded and nodded, but when she stopped and looked at me expectantly, all I could offer was "Hablo solamente un poco español".

She eventually found what she was looking for and left. Which was too bad, because I'd been zorking for five minutes on a doozy of a second sentence.

srah | 8:26 AM | TrackBack | Tags: spanish |

Travellin' man girl

I don't like travelling.

It's not that I don't like to travel, but that I don't like travelling. Being in transit makes me nervous, especially with all of this luggage. How am I ever going to get to Grenoble?

srah | 8:19 AM | TrackBack | Tags: travel |

At Frankfurt airport

Money-exchange man, looking at my birthdate in my passport: "You look smaller than you are. This will be good thing later."

Thoughts from Detroit-Frankfurt flight

You may call me the Pied Piper, for I seem to be attracting children. Crying - or just screaming for the fun of it - children who want to sit next to me and play with toys that make noises like planes falling towards the earth. Lovely.

srah | 8:14 AM | TrackBack | Tags: travel |

Overheard at Detroit Metro

Woman on cell phone: "Get your dog pregnant so you can get some money and come with us."

srah | 8:12 AM | TrackBack | Tags: travel |

Goodbye suckhole

"Welcome, travellers, to Detroit Metropolitan Airport, which is not as much of a suckhole as it used to be!"

If that isn't written above the doors, it should be.

Lufthansa has recently moved into the newly-built McNamara terminal, the home of Detroit's Northwest flights. It is clean and shiny and spacious. It has shops and a little tramway to take you from one end to the other. In other words, it is everything that the rest of Detroit Metro isn't.

Detroit Metro used to be the suckiest airport I've ever been to. The only thing I liked about it was that it was either at the beginning or the end of all of my flights, so I didn't have to spend extended periods of time there, waiting for a connection. Now, if you're flying Northwest, KLM, Lufthansa, Continental, or Air China, you can wander in comfort.

srah | 8:09 AM | TrackBack | Tags: travel |

Passenger Manifesto

For the first time, I had to fill out a Passenger Manifest form, which the Department of Transportation has supposedly made mandatory for US citizens. Harini and her family have done it every time they've flown since September 11, but I didn't have to do it when I went to Chile and Robin hasn't when she's visited Bob in Virginia. What it is, is they have you fill out a card with the name and phone number of a person to contact if you are blown to smithereens.

The word "manifest" makes me think of manifesto, which makes me think of the Unabomber. How comforting.

Suzy Traveller and Joe Badlypacked

My dad helped me out by dragging my enormous suitcase through the airport while I pulled my carry-on and carried my purse. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of my reflection with my sensible bag and high-heeled boots and thought, There is a business professional, travelling off somewhere with her sensible luggage. I looked back at my dad, lugging a monster of a bag through the airport and thought, There's someone who packed waaaaaaaaaay too much stuff.

The horrible thing is that I was the bad packer, with the savvy traveller on top. Boo packing. If I get to Grenoble, it will be a miracle.

srah | 7:51 AM | TrackBack | Tags: assistantship, travel |

Travelling stress

I was a bundle of nerves as I prepared to leave for France. That morning, I had finally decided to be nervous, and nervous I was. Even more so after my bags were packed and I was foreseeing carrying that mammoth suitcase all over France, when I could barely lift it at all.

Where earlier I had been envisioning comical scenarios in the Franquefort airport, trying to learn German, all I cared about was getting to Grenoble with my horrible valises maladroites.

"Handicapped"

Earlier this week, I was walking out of Borders and going to my car. As I walked through the parking lot, a car came driving striaght at me. I thought it was angling to get into a parking space, but it kept coming towards me. I very awkwardly jumped out of the way... just as it pulled into a handicapped parking space. Uh, I hate to tell you this, lady, but eligibility for a handicapped space is not based on how many people you have handicapped.

srah | 6:39 AM | TrackBack | Tags: stories |

Las collecciones

When I was in Chile, Alex's mom asked me if I collected anything. I couldn't come up with anything at the time, but now I have: I collect socks.

I don't do it on purpose. I just love to buy socks with fun and interesting designs on them. Sock-choosing was one of the more difficult elements of the packing process because I love them all. And the wide array of socks I was choosing from was... atrocious, really. I have way too many socks!

srah | 6:36 AM | TrackBack | Tags: socks |

We'll collect the moments one by one/ I guess that's how the future's done - Feist, 'Mushaboom'

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