The Story of the Kitten

Okay, I know I have been bad at blogging lately. I'm just so busy! And after Paris, nothing seems interesting anymore. But here is something to amuse you!

It was a morning just like any other morning, I woke up, showered, had breakfast, walked to campus... When I got to Newcomb Hall and walked in the door, I saw Graham, a guy from my class, sitting on the stairs playing with a kitten. I said, "Aw, who is this?" and he said, "I don't know." Apparently she had been wandering around outside Newcomb and then she wandered inside. Graham picked her up. She had a little flea collar on but no nametag. We went to our first class, Intro to Historical Linguistics, and just walked in with the kitten. Our professor is a crazy linguist, so she didn't mind. Graham usually sits next to me anyway, so we sat down and he was trying to get her to calm down but he couldn't. I picked her up and held her next to my heart, cuddled in my sweatshirt, and she fell right asleep. She slept in my arms for the entire class! I cannot tell you how amused I was to be sitting in class with a kitten.

After class, Graham and I walked down to my Philosophy classroom and asked my (tall, bemohawked, all black wearing Hulk) philosophy instructor if I could miss class to help Graham take the kitten to the vet to check if she had a microchip and just see if she was okay. Of course the minute I walked into class with a kitten I knew I had won the battle. A girl in the class agreed to email me the notes for the day. It was a review day anyway. So Graham and I walked to the Maple Street Small Animal Clinic and brought her in. They said she didn't have a microchip, she was too small. She hadn't had her shots, but she didn't have fleas. She had probably been out for a while and possibly had an upper respiratory infection. So they gave me some kitten food and some advice and I took her home!

Walking home



Since we thought she might be sick, I had to put some food and water and litter in my bathroom and shut her in there so she won't get the other cats sick. Mary came home and played with her, and then I came home and played with her. Graham and I named her Ad Hoc (long story), but Addie for short. She's adorable! I posted an ad on Craigslist saying we found her, but nobody claimed her.





Since we couldn't find her family, I took her back to the vet early the next week. She was still a little sick so they decided not to give her her shots yet. After the vet she was so tired that we came home and took a cuddly nap!



Mary and I decided we couldn't keep her, what with already having two adult cats in the house, so we gave her to Graham. But we have joint custody! I have visitation rights, and I'm also the Vet Mommy so I take her to the vet when she needs to go. And I'm allowed to bring her home for sleepovers sometimes. I go over to Graham's every so often to play with her.



Last time I saw her she was starting to get bigger! No longer poor malnourished kitten. The vet said she wouldn't have survived if we hadn't found her. She's such a sweetheart! She runs around and wreaks havoc at Graham's except when I come over, and then she sits on me and purrs for ages. I adore her!





Helping with my French paper!




I brought her into work

Happy birthday to me!

So Sunday was my birthday. I have class early on Mondays, so I didn’t really want to go out on Sunday night, but what’s the point of going out for your 21st birthday before you actually turn 21? Mary (my roommate) said we should go out Saturday night, and I lamented that then I would not be able to order a drink at dinner. Mary said we could go to a bar at midnight and get a drink then and it would be exciting. I lamented that most bars in New Orleans let you in when you’re eighteen so what would be the point? Mary told me that Pat O’Brien’s, home of the Hurricane cocktail, dueling piano bar, “flaming” fountain, and many many stories from my friends, does not let you in until you are 21. So I agreed that that would be exciting.

My friends Vaune, Johnny and Amanda came to Mary’s and my apartment at 6:30. Mary informed me that it is a New Orleans tradition that, on your birthday, someone pins a dollar to your shirt. Then other people will know it’s your birthday and they are supposed to pin more dollars to your shirt. I thought this was crazy, but a lot of strangers wished me happy birthday while we were out!

So Amanda drove all of us to Port of Call, which is a restaurant on Esplanade, on the edge of the French Quarter. They have the best baked potatoes of all time, and pretty amazing burgers, too. They don’t take reservations and the wait outside is usually about an hour… but it’s worth it. We eventually got inside and all had delicious baked potatoes and burgers.



Dinner folk, minus Johnny (who was taking the picture):
Amanda, Vaune, Mary and me. Note the dollar!


Neither Vaune nor Amanda really wanted to stay out late, so they left after dinner. Johnny and Mary and I meandered over to Bourbon St. We couldn’t actually get in to Pat O’s until midnight, and we hadn’t really planned what to do for that time, so we just walked up and down Bourbon St. for a while. Eventually we stepped in to Hustlet Hollywood, which is a really silly store on Bourbon St. It seems every single time I go to Bourbon St. I stop in there… I can’t help it! It just amuses me so much. Also our legs were pretty tired by that time, and HH has this plush couch shaped like lips and draped with feather boas, so Mary and I sat there and rested our feet for a few minutes while Johnny made a goodnight phone call to his long-distance love.

In Hustler Hollywood: Mary seriously considered buying me this hat if I would agree to wear it any time she asked.


"Death of Bachelorhood" elaborate bachelor party parade on Bourbon


Johnny and I on Bourbon St


At around 11 we went out in search of a daquiri, but by the time we chose one of the many daiquiri spots, I wasn’t feeling too great. While we were standing around outside debating what to do, we ran into Ly, another friend of mine, and so we talked to her for a bit. Then, around 11:30, our friends Culum and Stacey finally made it into the Quarter. We decided that it was near enough to midnight that we could probably convince the bouncers to let me into Pat O’s, so we headed over there. The bouncer looked at my ID, looked at me, looked at my ID, looked at the dollars on my shirt, looked at my ID again, and finally got this huge grin on his face and said, “Happy Birthday!” and let us in. All was well. We went into the outdoor courtyard of Pat O’s, which was full of colored lights and fountains and pretty foliage and well-dressed cocktail waiters, and we all ordered Hurricanes. We sat around and played a silly card game we’d picked up at Hustler Hollywood and had an all-around good time.

My first drink as a 21 year old!


Johnny enjoying his Hurricane


Silliness with cherries


One Hurricane from Pat O’s is a pretty big drink, and I drink slowly, so by the time I’d finished mine it was near one. Stacey and Culum were ready to go, and I made the executive decision to go with them, because I had a lot of homework and didn’t want to be out too late either. While we were walking down Bourbon, I saw a Lucky Dog stand. Since I hadn’t bought a drink with my birthday money (which is what you are supposed to do) I bought a Lucky Dog with it! ¼ of meat, plus chili, pickle relish, onions and mustard. A great way to end the night!



So I went out and had a fun night with friends, did a lot of traditional New Orleanian things, and still was home relatively early (for a 21st birthday) and didn’t have too much to drink… so I will actually remember my 21st birthday! It was really a perfect night.

I did homework most of the day on my actual birthday, but then for dinner my friend Rachel and I went to O'Henry's, a restaurant that serves free steak on your birthday. And it's good steak! So I had a free steak, and then the family at the table next to us heard that it was my 21st birthday, so they insisted on buying my drink (which was a very strange blue concoction), which was really cute. It was parents with children and a grandmother (named Bobbe, short for Roberta!), and the mom was all matter-of-factly explaining the importance of turning 21. The little boy was very intrigued. It was adorable.

Well now that I have shared this story with you I can be off to the rest of my day! Which mostly involves doctor's appointments, pharmacies and grocery shopping.

No me Gustav

So I never wrote about my evacuation, or my classes, but now I want to write about my birthday! So first, quick recap:

Thursday: Decided to evacuate, called home

Friday: Got on a plane at 4:30 PM to Dallas. They told us that all flights in and out of Dallas were being delayed an hour, so our flight was delayed an hour, but all the connecting flights would be delayed, too. So I got to Dallas and, of course, my flight had left an hour ago. I couldn’t get on the last flight to Boston so I spent the night in the airport, after befriending a young Loyola student named Ray. We camped out at Gate A37. I got eaten by fire ants in the night. Ray was spared.

Saturday: Got home around one, did some shopping and some laundry, took a shower, and drove to Connecticut to spend a few days with Jim and all the other UConners. Très relaxing. While I was there I went through the painful process of getting my flight home changed from Wednesday to Sunday… they weren’t even letting people back into the city until Thursday, but of course since my flight was booked by American Airlines but carried by US Airways, nobody could cancel it. Until they could. Funny, that.

Wednesday through Saturday I was in Lexington, bumming around, doing work for the classes I was missing. Sunday I flew back to NOLA, though it took me most of the day, because at one point I gave up my seat for a free travel voucher and then they said they couldn’t get me on the next flight and I would have to wait. But since they gave me a first class ticket when I gave up my seat, when I got on standby for the next flight and all they had open were first class seats, I took preference over the other passengers! So I flew back to NOLA first class. I met up with a friend at the airport, we shared a cab home, went to the grocery store (which was mostly empty) and I made dinner for another friend that evening, to help me relax.

Then I started classes on Monday. My Monday schedule:

9AM: Intro to Historical Linguistics
10 AM: Beginning with Minds
11 AM: Linguistic Field Methods
12 PM: Intermediate Italian

and then my French Senior Seminar (on French national identity) is from 4:30 to 7 PM. Long day. Especially once I started work as the “administrative assistant” of the department of Cell and Molecular Biology (they were hiring!) and I work from 1:30-4 on Mondays.

Tuesday I have an 8 AM Italian class and then a 5:30 PM Astronomy class followed by observation, and on Thursday I have just Astronomy. I’m also writing an Honors thesis. This adds up to 22 credit hours. To the intense relief of all of my advisers and loved ones, I dropped Italian yesterday. It’s the only one I don’t need to graduate. The Linguistic Field Methods class is the one I am taking for my Masters. Exciting!

I’ve been meeting with all sorts of advisers trying to figure this year out. It’s going to be complicated. But I’m done talking about all that now! I want to talk about my birthday!

Just in case you were wondering...

I have absolutely no time to post while juggling all of my academic and extracurricular commitments, but here's the latest Tulane Ike info:

"Hurricane Ike will cross western Cuba in the next few hours and emerge over the southeastern Gulf of Mexico this afternoon. The storm is expected to move across the central Gulf of Mexico. Tulane officials continue to monitor Ike’s track, which at this time appears to be heading toward the lower to middle Texas coast."

Take me back to New Orleans

So it has occurred to me that some of you might be mildly interested in hearing a bit about the New Orleans/Gustav situation. I had planned to get back into posting regularly once I was back in the swing of things in New Orleans (because, let's face it, a year in New Orleans can certainly be just as interesting and hazardous as a year in Paris). I was gearing up to get you all up to date on my first few days moving into my new apartment and starting classes, and then Gustav hit. So let's begin at the beginning! We'll get to the juicy bits (read: evacuation story) later.

The week before my departure for New Orleans is a little fuzzy. I was originally scheduled to fly out on August 23rd, which gave me only four days before the start of classes to furnish my apartment. My roommate, Mary, had already been living there for a couple of months, so she'd taken care of a lot of it, but I didn't have a stick of furniture for my own room. I also had a lot of other things to worry about - petitioning for credit for my classes, finding a work-study job, finding a second job, meeting with my academic adviser, meeting with my thesis adviser, declaring my Linguistics major, meeting with the Honors program people... so many meetings! I had managed to fit it all into those four days, along with buying a bed, picking up some donated furniture from a friend, and tabling at an event with the student health organization that I am a part of.

Unfortunately, due to a family matter, I had to change my flight to Monday, August 25th. So now I had approximately a day and a half to do all of those things.

On Monday, my friends Sarah and Carolyn drove me to Logan Airport at an ungodly hour. I had slept for a mere three hours the night before. I was very early for my first flight, but finally got on it and it took me to Atlanta (still no direct flights from Boston to New Orleans). My second flight, in Atlanta, left the gate on time but due to some pesky tropical storm known as Gustav, we had to wait on the tarmac to be rerouted around the storm, which took about an hour. Finally we took off, arriving in New Orleans about an hour late. My roommate Mary picked me up and took me to our apartment. I didn't have a key yet, and Mary had to run back to class (it was her first day of law school) so I sat around in the apartment, acquainting myself with it, unpacking, playing with the cats, and enjoying the air conditioning. After Mary got back from class we went and picked up my key from her friend. We also went grocery shopping and picked up a dresser and a desk from a friend of mine in New Orleans who is getting new furniture and decided to donate her old stuff to me. When we got back Mary had a migraine so she crashed and I started to bring the furniture in but I was very tired. Luckily some random Asian man who is our neighbor took it upon himself to carry all of my furniture up to my apartment. Very nice. I was too tired to put it together, though, so I crashed.

Miss Lily playing in the un-set-up furniture


Tuesday morning I set up my furniture and then had an advising meeting at 9, where my adviser told me that I'm doing great, I signed my Application for Degree, and my credit hour allowance was extended to a whopping 25. My laptop is currently out of commission, so I headed over to one of Tulane's computer labs. I was fiddling with calendars and checking email and stuff until I realized that my job interview was at 12 and not 12:30. I realized this at 12:01. I dashed across campus to Stern, which is a big sciencey building that I have never been in, and tried to find the department. Nearly impossible. But eventually, at 12:10, I stumbled upon the Department of Cell and Molecular Biology. I went in and had my interview. It went really well and they told me I would hear from them by Wednesday.

Miss Lily (up top) and Mufasa George Rockefeller enjoying the playground of my new desk.


After my interview I had lunch with my good friend Johnny, who I met when I was 15 at my father's college reunion and who was abroad in Japan all year, and we were joined by Jen and Laura, two girls who did the JYA in France with me.

I went home after that and a friend of mine, Ly (pronounced "Lee"), who is an RA brought, over a futon (sans frame) that one of her residents left behind after moving out. Mary and I put it up against the wall but it didn't feel very couch-like.

Mary playing with Mufasa


Then it was time to obtain a bed. This is where the real adventure begins (sort of). Mary and I hopped into the car and headed over to MattressFirm, which is where Mary bought her bed. I called my bank and upped my daily withdrawal limit to $1000, which is high as they would let me go, because I needed a bed and I also needed to pick up the stuff I had put on hold at Bed, Bath and Beyond. As Mary and I headed into MattressFirm, I mentioned to her that I could spend $450 and no more on a bed, because I needed the rest of the money for my Bed, Bath and Beyond stuff. So we went into the store, and there was only one guy working there (who turned out to be the assistant manager). We walked in, looking a bit overwhelmed, and he asked us how he could help us. I just said to him, "I'm looking for a full bed, cheap." He walked me right over to the clearance section, and pulled out a mattress, which he said was the most comfortable for its price. I tested it out, along with a couple others and he was right - it was the best one. It was $400, and the frame was $40. "Perfect!" I said, "That's exactly the right price!"

Of course, when we sat down to add it all up, with taxes and delivery, it cost closer to $550. So Mary and I scrapped the delivery idea and made the assistant manager guy promise to help us tie the mattress and box spring to the top of Mary's truck. Even without delivery, though, it came to about $475, which I still couldn't afford. Plus, for some reason, they didn't have the cheap frame I wanted. So I was talking to Mary, trying to figure out what we could do. I just didn't have the money to spend that day, and she couldn't drive me back out to the store anytime soon. We were kind of stuck. Suddenly the assistant manager just says, "How much do you have? $450? I'll make it work." And he magically made it all cost $450, including the more expensive bed frame. Just like that. And then he carried it all out to Mary's truck and masterfully tied the mattress and box spring to the top. And when I asked him if there were anyone I could call and tell what a great job he did, he said, "No, I'm the assistant manager. Just hearing that is enough." What a nice guy! I swear he would have come home with us and carried it inside if we asked.

So then we drove across the street to Bed, Bath and Beyond. They packed up all my stuff for me (including a mattress pad that was nicer than the one I'd chosen, but for the same price, because they were out of the one I'd chosen), and rang it up, but it still cost more than I'd planned, so I magically picked and chose things that I didn't really need and brought the price way down. It was really my day for being thrifty! Of course now I am going to have to go back and buy myself a second set of sheets sometime soon, but I can do with just one for now.

We headed home and the aforementioned Johnny effortlessly helped us moved my bed inside and set it up. I owe him dinner.

The rest of the night was low-key. Maybe later I'll write about the next day - first day of classes!

Mufasa on my new bed


Mufasssssaaaaaa!

Birds of Paradise

I watched the first episode of Planet Earth last night. There was a clip of two kinds of birds of paradise trying to attract a mate. The first one is funny but the second one made me die laughing. ENJOY! Seriously. Watch it. Especially if you could used a good laugh.





Never fear - I plan on continuing the blog once I get back to New Orleans. It's going to be a crazy year what with "secret double enrollment," two majors, an honors thesis, beginning my Master's, moving into my first apartment, and being back in the city that care forgot.

Euthyphro's Dilemma

My friend Andy (not my brother Andy) wrote in his blog about Euthyphro's dilemma ("Is what is moral commanded by God because it is moral, or is it moral because it is commanded by God?"). I think it is an interesting question, but I also think that, at least in his explanation of it, it is a bit oversimplified. I encourage you to go take a look at the post and at the comments and add your own input, either in my blog or in his. It's not in my nature to take anything at face value or to believe that there could be a question such as that with only two possible answers... so let's explore the gray area together!

Continued?

I am going to try to continue writing in this blog, when I am doing interesting things. Interesting to me, anyway. We'll see how it goes.

So on Monday I went to Connecticut to visit Jim, who I spent a lot of time with in Paris. He got home on Saturday, and I drove to Connecticut on Monday morning. I have never actually stopped in Connecticut before, except maybe to stop for gas on my way to Philadelphia. I am not sure what I was expecting, but Connecticut certainly exceeded my expectations.

I got to Jim's house around 11:30, and he showed me around his house. I saw his mom and his brother, who I met once before in Paris when we went down to the Catacombs. Jim had to vacuum their pool (yes, they have a pool) so I got to lounge around in the yard in my swimsuit and then go swimming in the newly clean pool! Afterwards we played Guitar Hero, which was a new experience for me. I have to admit, it was pretty fun. We had some lunch and we went to the place where Jim was trying to get his job back, but they were closed, so we went back. We hung out a bit and then had dinner - Cajun style catfish on the grill!! Mmm. After dinner we had sherbet and sat out on the porch in the sun - Jim, his parents, his brother Danny, and me. While we were sitting out there, his older brother Steve came home with his girlfriend Sam, who was really fun. They threw around a rugby ball and I sat with Jeanne and Danny. Steve wanted to play Rock Band so we all went downstairs and took turns playing the guitar, the drums, and singing the vocals. I was horrible at it, but I take pride in not having a lot of experience with video games!

I got a little bored of it so Jim and I went for a walk. He showed me his town, South Windsor. We walked around and saw his high school and stuff. It was quite buggy so we headed back, and chilled out with the family and just lazed around. It was quite summery and nice. I don't usually do those quintessentially summery things, like swimming in pools and sitting on the porch eating sherbet. I enjoyed it.

Later that night Jim and I watched "The Others." It wasn't as scary as I had feared, and I slept just fine. I got Jim's room while Jim slept on the top bunk in his brother's room. He has a big bed. It was nice, and comfy, but I am not used to big beds so I just squished myself over to one side the whole night.

Around 6:30AM was when the trouble started. I have this problem where I can't sleep once it gets light out. I didn't have as much of a problem in France because I had heavy, dark-colored curtains. In my room at home, I have blinds that nearly black out my room. But the shades in Jim's room don't do much, so I woke up around 6:30 AM. But I laid around until about 9 and then showered and then we had breakfast. Jim and I drove back over to his place of employment to pick up his uniform, and when we got back we picked up his brother Danny and went over to their cousins' house to swim in THEIR pool. Everyone has a pool!

Now Danny just had an appendectomy, so he couldn't swim. He had to sit by the side of the pool and throw the beach ball back in at us. But he was a good sport. It was Jim's aunt Christine's new house, and they have an in ground pool with a diving board. I wasn't sure I remembered the proper form for diving off a diving board and not seriously injuring yourself, but apparently muscle memory is a spectacular thing. As soon as I got on the diving board my legs and arms knew what to do. It was really fun. I love the feeling of diving. It's so amusing to me that it came back to me so easily, considering how hard it was (and terrifying) for me to learn to dive in the first place. I remember, I was about thirteen, and I had to start by diving in from the side of the pool, and then once I got the hang of that I had to do it from the low board, and then I had to learn how to run and do it, and finally I was able to do it off the really high board. And then of course there was the time I dove so hard I lost my bathing suit top and had to swim around in the town pool trying to find it. Oops.

So anyway, we had a good time. I met Jim's aunt Christine and her children Kenny, Christopher, and Isabelle. Christopher (age 11) was pretty crazy and just generally out there and excited to meet a new person. It was fun. We heard thunder so we all ran inside and played Wii Bowling and ate snacks. The sun came out again so we went back into the pool, until we heard more thunder. Then Christine wanted us to see her new rocking chairs in her breezeway, so we sat out there and rocked and eventually everyone came out and joined us. At this point we had also been joined by another aunt and two more cousins. The highlight of the day was MOST CERTAINLY an article we read in the local paper about a chimpanzee. Christine read it out loud to us. You can find the article here. You really have to read the whole thing.

After a while we headed home to Jim's house, where we had Shepherd's Pie for dinner. After dinner Jim took me to the mall (ooooh) and then one of his friend's from UConn called so we drove to UConn and saw Jim's future apartment, where his friend is currently living, and we hung out with them and listened to music and watched some guys light off Roman candles.

On the way back I was starving so we stopped at Subway and I got a meatball sub and burned my mouth. Very exciting, I know. But seriously. I haven't had a meatball sub in over a year. It was late when we got home, so we crashed.

Wednesday we went to the beach. We had been invited by Christine. We met a different cousin, Bob, at his house around 10:30, armed with sandwiches, soda, potato chips, CheezIts, Swedish Fish, towels, beach toys, sunglasses, a blanket and a million other beach necessities. We packed it into Bob's car and drove the hour and a half to Westerly, RI, to Misquamicut State Beach. I didn't know there were things in Rhode Island besides Providence... and a beach?? What a surprise! It was pouring rain when we left South Windsor, and by the time we got to the beach, it was covered in fog. It was very strange, and you couldn't see more than about twenty feet in front of you. And yet the beach was packed. Christine predicted the fog would burn off by about one, and she was exactly right. After that it was a perfect beach day. We swam, we boogie boarded, we walked along the beach, we got ice cream, we ate out sandwiches, we wore our sunglasses, we got covered in sand, and I got burned. We were at the beach until at least five. Then it was a sandy drive home. I was supposed to drive home that night, but Jim's mom suggested I stay the extra night because I was most likely exhausted. She was right, especially because I had woken up at six-thirty again. We ordered a super yummy pizza, and then pretty much just crashed. We were all exhausted and we all had to get up in the morning

This morning I woke up at 6:30 again. What a shocker! Jim was getting ready for work so I joined him for breakfast. After he left I showered and packed up my stuff and got in the car, after saying goodbye to Jeanne. About halfway home I got a call from Jim saying he'd gotten called off work, but at that point it was a bit late to turn around. Oh well. The best part of the trip home was that I knew that gas was much cheaper in MA than in CT (they got rid of all the tolls in CT, but upped gas taxes, apparently) so my goal was not to stop for gas until I crossed into Massachusetts. I barely made it, but it was worth it. I saw gas for up to 4.39 in CT (for regular unleaded) and the stuff I got was 4.05. From Mobil, no less.

So I got home around 10:30, and ran some errands, after which I kind of vegged out for the rest of the day. I need a vacation from my vacation! Hanging out with someone else's energetic, large family for three days was exhausting! But tomorrow I start actually working (more on that later, perhaps) and then tomorrow night my friend Monique and I are going camping at Harold Parker State Forest for the 4th of July. I'll keep you updated!

The one picture from the weekend: Bobbie wakes up to a friendly cat.

Re-entry

Tuesday morning (June 4th) I woke up at six, showered, and made sure I had all my bags together. Jim graciously agreed to drag himself out of bed at seven to help me get to the airport, for which I am eternally grateful, as I would never had made it on my own. Plus, paying for my train ticket to the airport and Jim’s train ticket there and back, at 24€, was still cheaper than paying for a cab. It turned out to be a good decision, financially at least, because my bags were so overweight that I had to pay an arm and a leg to check them (it was because of all my vacuum-packed clothes). But I eventually got that worked out and made it through security with no problem, although the guy letting people into the boarding area hassled me about the size of my carry-on , and the guy at the security check was flirting with me, which always baffles me and makes me shut down, so I was pretty flustered when I got through. Also they went through both my carry-on and my backpack. My Epi-pens, jars of spices and massive frying pan mixed in with clothes and makeup probably looked pretty menacing on the x-ray screen. The thing is, with my carry-ons, it’s usually almost all last-minute stuff that I almost forgot and then just squeezed in somewhere.

Wistful to be leaving Paris.


Thinking about when I can come back


Bye Jimmy :-(


My 10:25 flight to Dublin had apparently been changed to 10:40 sometime between when my Dad made the reservations and when I got to the airport, and then all the screens said it was on-time but at 10:50 it still hadn’t boarded. We finally took off around 11:15. I still had a pretty long layover in Dublin so I wasn’t really worried, but I should have been, as I hadn’t taken into account the fact that in Dublin I would have to in fact exit the terminal, go through passport control, get a new boarding pass, go through security again (with my bags opened up again), and go through US Customs and Border Protection before actually boarding my flight.

I did do all that, and ended up cutting it pretty close. The craziest thing in this whole day, though, was what happened in the Customs and Border Protection line.

I don’t know if anyone who reads this blog watches American Idol. I would like to pretend that I myself do not. However, I cannot tell a lie - I got hooked on it. I had a few favorite contestants, my two top picks being Carly Smithson and David Cook. David Cook ended up winning. Carly Smithson ended up being in the Customs and Border Protection line at Dublin airport.

I noticed her husband first - he’s pretty hard to miss. They featured him a few times on the show, and his whole face is covered in very distinct tribal tattoos. Carly has a lot of tattoos, too, and I always thought both of their tattoos were very cool, so the first thing I recognized was the tattooed face of Carly Smithson’s husband. First I thought, “Wow, that guy has a lot of tattoos on his face.” Then, “He looks like Carly Smithson’s husband.” Then, “Who’s that pretty woman next to him?” Then, “Carly Smithson is from Ireland, and I’m in Ireland.” Then, “Oh my God that’s Carly Smithson.”

I have met several famous people in my lifetime. Some I knew I was going to meet - Art Garfunkel, Davey Jones, Sam Waterston. Some, I didn’t know I was going to meet - James Taylor, Amanda Palmer, John Malkovitch (okay, okay, I didn’t really meet him, he just stared me down in a piercing parlor in Harvard Square). And most of that second list, I didn’t really get the impact of it at the time. I was seven when I met James Taylor, and I didn’t know who he was. Amanda Palmer went to LHS. and that’s where I met her, with Sam Kafrissen trying to set us up. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. This was super different. Carly Smithson may not be as famous as those people, and none of you may care who she is, but I admit that I watched American Idol every week up until about a month and a half ago. I loved her voice and her personality and he whole story. Seeing her there, it was the first time I had seen and recognized a famous person, and in such a banal setting, it seemed so unreal. So I was completely starstruck, probably for the first time in my life.

So I walked over to them. Because I am a creep. I literally was just like, “Excuse me, are you Carly Smithson?” half-expecting her to say, “No, but I get that a lot.” I was actually pretty surprised when she said yes, and then I didn’t know what to do. I was really at a loss for words. I felt ridiculous. It’s just so hard to explain how weird it was. You see someone on TV. You see them every week. You know a lot about them. Their face is very familiar to you. But it’s all static, it’s all one-way. They are on a screen. It’s a barrier. Even with live TV, it’s fixed in place, because nothing in my life would ever impact anything in her life, even though she’s impacted the lives of millions of people. So when that barrier is taken away, and I am standing next to her in the Dublin airport, and the things that she says are a direct result of the things that I say to her, it becomes very very weird, and even a little sad. She seemed a little wary, but her husband told me they were going home to the US and asked me where I was headed and was flattered and amused when I told them I liked their tattoos. I think they were pretty amused at my tongue-tiedness. Finally I told them to have a good flight and kind of ran away, embarrassed. I wish I’d said something witty or intelligent, or told her how talented I think she is (or asked her for David Cook’s phone number). I also wished I’d had an accessible camera, or asked for her autograph or something, just something that a normal fan would do, instead of standing there spluttering about tattoos. But I was just completely taken by surprise by her being there.



So yeah, I felt kind of idiotic afterwards, but it was still really freaking cool. I eventually got on my plane to Boston from Dublin with no difficulty, and that’s where I am writing this post from. I should be in Boston in a couple of hours. Home sweet home! But I miss Paris already. I have a feeling there will be posts in the future about re-adjusting to life stateside, but I’m not sure how long the Paris blog should continue now that I am no longer in Paris.

And here it is, AT LONG LAST, photos (finally) courtesy of Jimmy - My Last Days in Paris!

Au revoir, Paris.

Monday (June 3rd) was my last full day in Paris. Sunday night I went back to my favorite little Chinese restaurant, Nénuphar on Avenue de Choisy. I highly recommend it. The food is amazing, the prices are moderate, the service is great, and the best thing is that nobody knows about it, so it’s never crowded. It’s usually nearly empty. If you’re in Paris, you should definitely go, because with that kind of business who knows how long before they have to close down.

Monday morning I was pretty sad, and in a funk from events of the night before, and not sure of what I wanted to do. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to do something I’d never done, or go do something again that I loved. I decided on sleeping in. Oops.

Anyway, in the afternoon I did eventually decide to go visit Shakespeare & Co., because it is kind of a Mecca for English speakers in Paris and I had never been. So I went there and perused the used books on the shelves outside, sitting down to read some of The Turn of the Screw and re-read the first story from In the Land of Dreamy Dreams.





Finally I went inside and looked through their new stock. I thought about buying a book about Paris, for when I miss it, but nothing struck my fancy. Jim showed me the second floor, too, with the reference books that you can’t buy, and the little carrel where people have left hundreds of notes, both scrawled on scraps of paper and typed on the tiny typewriter.

Afterwards Jim remembered that at one point I had said that I wanted to go see the Pont Mirabeau, because of the famous poem:

Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine
Et nos amours
Faut-il qu'il m'en souvienne
La joie venait toujours après la peine

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

Les mains dans les mains restons face à face
Tandis que sous
Le pont de nos bras passe
Des éternels regards l'onde si lasse

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

L'amour s'en va comme cette eau courante
L'amour s'en va
Comme la vie est lente
Et comme l'Espérance est violente

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

Passent les jours et passent les semaines
Ni temps passé
Ni les amours reviennent
Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la Seine

Vienne la nuit sonne l'heure
Les jours s'en vont je demeure

I’m so glad he remembered: I would never have thought of it. We took the 10 straight from Saint-Michel and went over to the bridge. It was nothing much to speak of, but it had a pretty nice view of the smaller French Statue of Liberty with the Eiffel Tower looming in the background.









Of course, now, writing this, I am sad that I didn't go back to the Lapin Agile a fourth time (one of the guys there sings that poem set to music). I know I will go back one day but I am sure the same people won't be there, and it was the people and the fact that they recognized Erin and me that I loved so much.

Earlier in the day I had said that I was interested in trying to cook something that I had never cooked before for my last night. Jim wanted to send me off in style, and he suggested we make a French dinner since I refused to have any sort of actual party. So we went on Allrecipes.com and searched through their recipes for French cuisine. Soupe à l’oignon was pretty much a given - we just had to pick a recipe. For the main dish we decided to make pork chops stuffed with bleu cheese, chives and bacon. It looked amazing. So I had written down the grocery list and after I had had my fill of the Pont Mirabeau I took my last trip to the mall in the Village d’Asie (Chinatown) which is where I like to do some of my grocery shopping because they have a massive supermarket.

Waiting for the tram for my last trip to Géant


We got all the ingredients, including gorgonzola as our bleu cheese, which was a nice touch because I have been trying to find gorgonzola in France without much success for most of the year. If I’d known I could have gotten it at Géant, I would have done so a long time ago.

On the way back with the goods


We headed home and chilled out for a bit before starting dinner. We were both pretty tired. We decided that Jim would make the soup and I would make the pork chops, mostly because I was pretty excited about learning how to make stuffed anything. Never done that before. I did have to have Jim butterfly the pork chops though, as I am not even handy enough with a knife to slice a bagel.

Taking over the kitchen!


Jim enjoying dinner


Delicious stuffed pork chops!


And next to it, Jim's French Onion Soup, which he was worried about but I thought was delicious


To make a long story short, the meal was delicious. If anyone wants the recipe for the chops, drop me an e-mail. As we were finishing up, Amy showed up with perfect timing. She couldn’t bear for me to leave without seeing me one more time (who could, really?) so she cut short a night out and brought her date over for pancakes and s’mores. We didn’t actually end up making the s’mores, but Amy did make pancakes even though Audrey had to leave before they were ready. So Amy and Jim and I had pancakes and Amy and I said our tearful goodbyes.

Amy


I have been known to sneak up very quietly
\

Jim, and Amy's date, who Amy and I left alone together for a bit because we're kind of mean


I got to say goodbye to Mike...


...and Tim


Attempting to make pancakes from crepe mix


A little spaced out?


Pancrepecakes!


Bye Amy :-(


All in all, it was a good last day.