Atlanta to Avignon (via Paris).

The flight from Atlanta was relatively uneventful (just the way I like it!).  My seat companion was a businessman from Minneapolis who sells the equipment and buildings they use to test jet engines.  He was headed to Paris, Madrid, Morocco, Algiers, Milan, and a few other places to meet with Air France, AlItalia, British Airways, and other major world airlines to sell their equipment.  I learned a lot about this gentleman, but his name?  I never got it.

I tried (unsuccessfully) to catch a few more minutes of sleep.  I was slightly more prepared and managed to snag myself two flight pillows and three blankets to help buffer myself from the cold, in addition to my fleece, my winter coat, and my own pillow--it helped a bit.  At least I managed to just stay around the "mildly uncomfortably cold" mark instead of delving into the "straight up miserable."  

We landed bright and early (okay, before bright...) in Paris and had a heck of a wait in line for customs.  I stood in line with a lovely couple from Atlanta--a retired scientist and his wife--who have children in Seattle and Portland, who were on holiday in France.  Again, no names, but they had a great sense of humor--necessary at 0-dark-30 whilst standing in a HUGE line!  We three lucked out and got the nice customs agent--the other guy (yes, there were only 2 agents working border patrol for about 5 huge flights of non-EU citizens) was hassling anyone with a US passport.  Getting out particular agent felt a little like winning the lottery.

On a side note: is there some sort of unwritten rule I don't know about that says anyone who works at an airport is required to be grumpy?  Just checking.

I realized right away that my cell phone didn't work in Europe.  I knew I couldn't make calls from it, but I had thought the clock would at least work, so I'd have an alarm and be able to tell time.  NOT SO MUCH.  Luckily I had taken the time to figure out how to set the clock on my new camera before I left Portland, so with a little basic math, I could figure out the time if I looked at my camera's menu.  Challenge number 1.

I took a pit stop in a bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and braid my hair.  Feeling slightly more human, I went immediately to the ATM to take out some Euros--little did I know I should have gotten more than the 140 I took out!  I then wandered through Charles de Gaulle airport--it is HUGE and VERY confusing--trying to find the metro/train platforms and ticket windows.  Challenge number 2.  

I finally made it to the ticket window and attempted to buy a ticket to Avignon, only to discover that suddenly my debit card was no longer working.  *sigh*  I forked over my hundred Euros to buy the ticket, and tried to decide what to do.  I tried several ATMs and tried to figure out how to call my family to let them know I made it and to get some help with my bank, all to no avail.  I sat down and thought through it for a bit, and took a deep breath.  Challenge number 3.  

I was feeling a bit anxious about being abroad, and knew I just needed to dive in and have a little adventure so I could remember how the whole "Europe" thing worked (you know, navigating a foreign country in a foreign language by yourself...that kind of thing).  I decided to just catch the metro into Paris instead of waiting around for 4 1/2 hours for my train and have a little adventure, then I could figure out calling my family and fixing my bank account when I arrived in Avignon.  I knew once I made it to Avignon, Debi would be there and she could help me get things sorted.  So I bought a Metro ticket and headed out.

I got off at the stop that should have put me next to Notre Dame Cathedral, intending to go to nearby La Saint-Chapelle.  Apparently I picked the wrong exit, because even though I WAS, in fact, right next to Notre Dame, I couldn't see it.  Challenge number 4.  

I wandered aimlessly for about 45 minutes before I finally stumbled across it, and it was REMARKABLE.  

Notre Dame must be one of those places that never grows old.  It is enormous and old and absolutely gorgeous.  I took a few photos outside and had a run-in with some of the women who try to trick tourists out of their money (they were literally screaming, "LADY!!  DO YOU SPEAK ENGLISH?!!!???" as I completely ignored them).  By the time I made it there, I didn't have time to find and explore La Saint-Chapelle, so I decided to take a run through Notre Dame.  I've been in it before with Debi, but I had forgotten how truly awesome it is inside. 

I took some beautiful photos, then ran back to find the Metro station to head back to the airport, so as not to miss my train.  I tried out my rusty (okay...almost non-existent) French, and regained my confidence as a traveler, so mission accomplished.

The train ride to Avignon was GORGEOUS, with the French Alps in the distance and beautiful French wine country going by, but it was a desperate fight to stay awake.  By the time I got to Avignon, my excitement to see Debi kicked in and I got my second wind.

*To see more photos with descriptions of my France trip leading up to the wedding, click HERE.

Atlanta.

Upon arriving in Atlanta, I had about 3 hours to kill.  I had promised to call Erik when I landed, but decided to wait until noon his time, hoping he'd be on his lunch break right about then.  The airport in Atlanta is HUGE!!  I was at the B gates and had to get to the E gates, and there was a sign telling me I could walk or take the underground train--to walk was almost a mile!!  And being exhausted and laden with a big ol' backpack, walking was definitely the less attractive option.

They had a super cool display of MLK, Jr. paraphernalia--I had totally forgotten he was from Atlanta!!  Sweet!!  They have his copy (with his notes in the margins) of a book by Gandhi, in addition to his robe he wore as minister at the Ebenezer Baptist Church and other cool things.  It definitely occupied some time.  

People watching is a must in airports, especially if you're in the South.  I watched one little food stand in particular called "Checkers" for at least 15 minutes.  HILARIOUS!!  The lady behind the counter was a young black woman with a major Southern drawl, yelling out, "Step up to the counter, baby, what'll it be?" or "Whatcha havin', baby?"  EVERYONE was "baby."  It was awesome.  The food was greasy and totally unhealthy and delicious, just like Florida.  

I wandered through their food court, where every single table had a vase with long, bright greenery and fresh Gerber Daisies and other flowers--gorgeous (at first I thought I had wandered into an actual restaurant...nope, just the food court)--and settled in to eat lunch and call Erik.  He answered his phone and asked me how my flight was, and I babbled on about how I was freezing the whole time, but sat next to a very interesting man from Alabama who had tried to help me solve the cold problem.  Then I heard Erik take a deep breath.

"Well," he said, "I'm answering phones in the office right now, so I can't really talk about it because I need to be professional, but Dad called earlier this morning to tell me that Grandma died."  I felt horrible.  Apparently she had passed away about an hour after my flight took off.  I could hear him fighting back tears, and he told me he'd call me back a little later on his lunch break.  Oh, how my heart broke.

I called my mom and she immediately asked if she could send flowers (my mom rocks!).  I gave her some hints about how to find the address (since I didn't know it off the top of my head), and we talked about some options for flowers and she said she'd take care of sending them.  I also asked her to please call my lovely boyfriend that evening to make sure he was doing okay.  ACK!!  What a terrible time to be leaving the country and largely out of contact for a couple weeks.  I seriously felt awful (to a large extent, I still do).  My mom and I talked for awhile as I finished my lunch, then with promises that she'd do everything she could for my boy while I was gone, we said our goodbyes and I went in search of a good book for the plane.

As I wandered through the bookstore, I noticed 3 men in Army desert fatigues.  We ended up chatting a bit, only to find out that these three guys were on their way to Iraq.  God bless them!  When I told them I had a cousin who had spent a year over there, the man I was talking with said, "Tell him thank you for us."  I don't know why I found that so touching, but pretty cool.  I then found a Jodi Picoult book (I'm addicted--she's a great author!), and headed for my gate.

I talked with Erik a bit more and made sure he was okay as could be expected, then made a few more phone calls.  I had a hilarious and fantastic conversation with my grandfather (he has Alzheimer's--phone calls are always an adventure!  He's awesome), then boarded my flight to Paris. 

Let Me Tell You About My Trip! The Domestic Flight...

I've decided I just need to suck it up and sit down and write some of this if it's ever going to happen.  Between jet lag, work, finally getting to spend some time with my boy, and just overall exhaustion, I've been having a hard time getting motivated to sit down and write.  I'll have to do it in chunks, so this story will probably be in several parts, and please don't feel the need to read unless you're interested, but here goes:

Ever since Debi called me a year ago to tell me she was engaged, I have been anticipating this trip.  Promising one of your besties you'll do everything you can to make it to their wedding, especially when that wedding is slated to happen in a foreign country, is not a promise I make lightly.  It was FANTASTIC when all the pieces fell perfectly into place, so I could actually afford to make the trip, my new job let me have the necessary time off, and the plan was working to do the things I wanted to do while in Europe (including adding a few new stamps to my passport--one I didn't already have!).  I even had friends who wanted to travel with me.  It was perfect.  And even though I was trying not to think too much about it to avoid too much anticipation, I was SUPER excited.  Excited about seeing Debi, excited about the wedding, excited about feeding my inner travel bug--just DANG EXCITED.  But that being said...

Leaving on my trip was rough.  I was SUPER looking forward to it, but there was a lot of crazy stuff going on at home.  Erik's grandma was really, really sick, and we knew the end was coming.  She and Erik were very close, so it was really tough on him, not to mention the fact that he wasn't feeling well himself.  The days and weeks leading up to my leaving left me with a lot of mixed feelings, and mostly I felt terrible for leaving him.  I had a hard time saying goodbye knowing he was struggling SO much, but he put me on the plane, and I headed out, promising to call from Atlanta.

Sitting next to someone on a plane is an art form.  You have to define the limits of personal space with a perfect stranger in extremely close quarters, and if you know me, you know I have a big personal bubble when it comes to strangers...which is why I almost always choose a window seat!  I sat next to the exact stereotype of the pro-Confederacy Southerner.  He was probably in his mid-50s, with long salt-and-pepper hair, headphones, and a book.  

As a side note: I think an airplane is one of the few places you can have conversations with total strangers, and it's not at all odd if you never find out their name.  In fact, it's almost a requirement--maintain some anonymity.  Don't disclose your name.  Tell anything else you want, but don't mention your name.  I talked to every single person who sat next to me on four different flights, and not once did I catch a name.  Interesting.  But I digress.

I settled into my seat, trying to figure out how I was going to manage to stay awake for the next 27 hours or so, when I was already running on an extremely depleted supply of sleep.  I took out my new camera and took some photos of the sunrise to kill some time, but it was obviously not going to be a long enough distraction.  We weren't far into the flight when I realized the plane had figured it out for me: I was FREEZING.  Not the "Oh, I'm a bit chilly" kind of cold, but the miserable, uncomfortable, no-way-you're-ever-going-to-catch-a-few-winks kind of cold.  I had my fleece on, with long sleeves underneath, plus a pillow between me and the side of the plane.  It was not enough.  I didn't say anything, but my seat mate must have figured it out.  About an hour and a half into the flight, he looked at me.  "You cold?" he said.

"Yeah, I'm freezing!"

"Do you want me to see if we can getcha a blanket?"  The flight attendants were right in the middle of the their beverage service and seemed pretty busy.  Me, being the extremely low-maintenance person I am, didn't want to bother them.

"Nah, that's okay.  Thanks, though," I replied.

He thought about that for a second, put his tray up, and looked at me.  "I got my coat right down here in my backpack.  I could get it out for you.  You could put it next to you, like a barrier."  He looked at me helpfully.

"Um, okay, sure.  Thanks."  I replied.  Continuing the stereotype, he pulled out a big, oversized, camo coat.  

"Here ya go, miss."  

"Thank you so much," I replied gratefully.  I put the heavy coat between me and the wall.  He was right...it did help to have a barrier.

"Heck, you can put it on if ya want to.  I don't care," he said after a moment.  

"Thanks," I replied again.  "This is okay.  It's really helping."

He put his headphones back on and went back to his book.  About 20 minutes later he started digging around in his backpack again.  After a few minutes, he handed me a package of 'Hot Hands' hand warmers.  "Here.  Read the directions on that thing and open it up for yourself."  Having learned my lesson about gratefully accepting the kindness of strangers instead of graciously declining, I said, "Really?  Thanks!"  And I won't hesitate to tell you that I tried it in several places before I decided to slip it into my pant leg on my hip where my leg was freezing from being so near the side.

"Yeah, I used to always carry these around from my scuba diving days," he explained.  "I knew there was a reason I was carrying these around."  I smiled gratefully.  "My wife likes to put them under her butt cheeks when we're riding our motorcycles."  

Wow.

Slightly more able to handle the cold, I finally did manage to nap fitfully for probably a grand total of about 20 minutes before we began our descent into Atlanta.  He offered me his other set of handwarmers for my next flight, which I politely declined, but thanked him profusely for his generosity.  For the record, he was from Alabama.  I never did find out his name.

French Wedding Bells.

So I have much blogging to do, but I promise I'll do some once I start to feel a little less discombobulated from jet lag.  I will, however, tell you just a bit about the whoel reason I went to Europe: my Bestie, Debi's Wedding!!!  (Click HERE to see the photos I put up on FB along with their captions.)Debi's story is a bit of a fairy tale (at least I think so!), and you can read more about it on the link posted above.  Love that girl!  The wedding was sweet, the reception was amazing, and you could tell by looking at him that Nicolas (Debi's new hubby) was certainly having the BEST day of his life.  It was awesome.

I will write a proper blog entry about this soon, but it was seriously the best party EVER!  When Debi picked me up at the train station in Avignon on Friday, she said, "So, we'll get you over your jet lag today, then tomorrow I'll keep you up 'til 4 AM."  I thought she was joking.  She wasn't.  Europeans DEFINITELY know how to party.
It was a GREAT time, Debi looked absolutely gorgeous, they did a fantastic job of combining cultures to represent both French customs and American traditions, and I can't say enough how much FUN it was.  (These gorgeous girls are some of Debi's girlfriends from Med School--talk about lovely women!  They wrote and sang a song for Debi and Nicolas, and it was ADORABLE!)
There is definitely much more to tell about the wedding and about my trip in general, but I have to go to sleep right this second.  So consider this a sneak preview.  :)  More to come.  Soon.  Promise.

Hola from San Sebastian!!

This is going to be short and sweet, but just wanted to let you know I´m alive and having a fabulous time in Spain!

I left Portland suuuuuuper early (thanks to my fabulous boyfriend for the ride to the airport!!), and headed toward Atlanta, Georgia. Definitely had some adventures, with more info to come later. I called Erik from Atlanta and found out his grandma died that morning while I was on the plane. Talk about rotten timing. I feel horrible that I can´t be there for him. But he understands.

Anyway, from Atlanta onto Paris, then a train to Avignon. I played with my friend Debi for the day, went out with all the Americans (Debi´s friends and family) for dinner the night before the wedding, and then went to the B&B in Orange, France. We spent Saturday getting Debi ready, then had the wedding, then drove an hour and a half to an amazing little place outside of Jaujac for the reception. I have never been to anything like it; it lasted until 4 AM!!

Sunday, we headed back to Orange, then my friend Ben and I took a train to Lourdes, France, arriving at 2 AM! We spent the next day and a half there (glorious!), then headed, on a fluke, to San Sebastian, Spain. I´ll tell you the story when I get home.

Tomorrow we´re onto Loyola, Spain, then later to Barcelona. After Barcelona, onto Madrid, and from there I will head back to Portland, via NYC, on Sunday.

It´s been GLORIOUS, and I will post photos and stories and many more exciting details when I return (or after I recover from the inevitable jet lag a little!). Let´s just say, I´m doing great and wish you were here!

Loves!

(P.S. Please keep Erik and his family in your prayers!)

WICKED!!!!

In case you don't know this about me, let me tell you a little secret: I LOVE MUSICALS.

Always have, probably always will.

To me, there is nothing quite like getting dressed up, entering a big theater, and seeing the glorious set, listening to the musicians warming up in the pit, and feeling the hum of energy that fills the air due to everyone's excitement, then being taken away on an incredible journey with music and laughter and tears and drama and all the rest when the lights go down and the prelude starts--it is magic.  Which is why I was ecstatic when Erik surprised me with tickets to see "Wicked" for Christmas!

I've been DYING to see "Wicked" for about 6 years (ever since it debuted on Broadway).  "Wicked" is based on the book Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West by Gregory McGuire, which tells the story of what happened before Dorothy showed up in Oz, and helps us understand why Elphaba, also known as the Wicked Witch of the West, is so bitter and, well, wicked by the time she's melted in the infamous bucket-of-water episode.

The music in "Wicked" is absolutely phenomenal, and I've been in love with the score for years now.  So to finally see it on stage was AMAZING!  The actress who played Galinda (later known simply as "Glinda") was HILARIOUS.  She is truly a woman who LOVES her job, and you could tell.  She did a fantastic job of bringing the comedy to the role in it's highest form, and her voice was phenomenal.  We were a little bit bummed because the actress who plays Elphaba (who played the role of Young Cosette in the ORIGINAL Broadway cast of "Les Miserables") was out last night and was replaced by a stand-in, but her stand-in was PHENOMENAL!  Seriously, everything about this show was incredible.  If you haven't seen it, you MUST, especially if you like musical theater even a little bit, and most especially if you, like most of us, love the story of The Wizard of Oz.

The energies were awesome, the harmonies were amazing, the voices were rich and vibrant, and the story is fantastic.  I was sad when the final curtain closed--it was that good.

Unfortunately I forgot to change out the batteries in my camera, so we couldn't get a single photo, so the memories will have to suffice.  :)  Erik took me out to an awesome dinner at the Olive Garden before the show, then offered to buy me a souvenir from the show (I got a "Wicked" mug!) at the end.  It was a glorious night.  Merry Christmas to me!

TONIGHT! And Prayers, Please?

TONIGHT'S THE NIGHT FOR "WICKED"!!!!  I am sooooo excited I can barely handle it.  And Erik's taking me out to dinner before the show!!  It's gonna be such a fun night!!  :)  Don't worry, I'm sure I'll post all about this in the next day or so.  :)

And in other news...please, please pray for Erik's Grandma, Vi Mertens.  He had the precious opportunity to spend the weekend with her and the entire Mertens crew last weekend, but it sounds like she's taken a serious turn for the worse and she may not make it through the day.  She's an amazing woman.  Please pray for Vi, Erik, and the Mertens family.  Thanks.

IT'S OVER!!!!

I got this e-mail from my attorney late Thursday night:

Jen:

 

All medical bills have been paid.

Check in the mail to you today.

Call if you have any questions.  Have a great weekend.

 

Best.

 

Craig

WOOHOOOOOO!!!!!!!!  My car accident craziness from a year and a half ago is FINALLY OVER!!  This calls for a CELEBRATION!!  :)  I think maybe I'll head to Europe...  :)

*Okay, so I know I'm going to Europe anyway.  But now I can actually afford it!*

I Don't Get It.

I don't understand this whole economy thing.  I kinda wish I'd taken some econ classes in college, but alas, I studied liberal arts, NOT business.  Now I find myself feeling completely baffled as people are losing their jobs all around me and all we keep hearing about is how the world is falling apart and the economy is going down the tubes.  I don't understand the whole recession/depression thing.  I feel very naive.

What exactly has changed?  A few months ago everything was fine, now everyone's losing their jobs.  I don't get it.  It seems like people get freaked out and then respond to "the economic crisis," so it gets worse, then people freak out more, then it makes it worse, etc.  Like a big, giant downward spiral that is mostly psychological.  I just don't get it.  Where does the money go?  If they haven't done anything different than they were doing three months ago, why is there suddenly no money?

And I don't even pretend to understand the stock market.  I have a little bit of money ("retirement"--haha!) invested, but my "advisor" (pshhhh) told me that if I'm not very reactionary, the best way to do it is to just ignore it and pretend it's not there so I don't get freaked out when the stock market dips and dives.  Whatever.  

All I know is that for the time being, I'm ensured my job is pretty safe (knock on wood), and I sure hope it stays that way.  Same with my family and friends.  If anyone has any suggestions of a good book that could explain this stuff in a simple, non-business-major sort of way, I'd love to hear about it.  I don't want to be naive about this, but I definitely am.

In the meantime, here's what I have to say:

Dear Mr. President, 

Please fix the economy.  I know it's not that simple, but please worry more about fixing it and making things better than about your popularity or about political gains.  Please just lead us in this time and do everything you can, with all your advisors, to turn this around and make things better for all of us.  And while you're doing this, I'll keep working hard at my job and hoping it stays safe and stable so I can keep paying my bills and stuff.  And I'll pray for you.  Okay?  

Thanks,

Jen

WORST Idea EVER.

Have you ever heard of this product?  All I can say is NEVER BUY IT.  And if you already own it, THROW IT AWAY!!  Let me tell you a story...

Remember how Friday night I told you my shoulder and neck were KILLING ME (after-effects from my car accident whiplash a year and a half ago)?  Well, it just kept getting worse, I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't figure out what to do to make it better.  I had some Capzasin in a little roll-on applicator thing that I hadn't used before, and it's supposed to provide pain relief, so I decided to give it a shot.  I rolled it onto my neck and shoulder as best I could.  It dripped down my back a little, so I wiped it off, put my shirt on, and tried to go to sleep.  This was probably around 1 AM.

At 4 AM I woke up in excruciating pain.  I felt like I had 2nd and 3rd degree burns on my shoulder and neck--I'm not kidding.  It didn't feel like it was on fire (not hot), it felt like I was being burned.  It was HORRIBLE.  So I was doing the whole delirious, half-asleep, extreme pain thing, trying to problem solve at 4 in the morning.  I got a towel completely wet in cold water and put it under my shirt...which helped for about ten minutes, until my body heat warmed up the towel and then it hurt WORSE.  In my sleep-induced delirium, I couldn't convince myself to take a shower and get my hair wet (I HATE sleeping with wet hair!), but I knew I needed to GET IT OFF.  So I was lying halfway over the bathtub, dumping ice cold water over my neck and shoulder and trying to scrub it off with Dove Body Wash.  If the water was even just cool, it felt like burning.  I had to use icy cold water.  It totally didn't work.  It only helped while the ice water was on me.  

I looked in the mirror, and my back and shoulder were bright red from the cold.  You know how it looks when someone scrapes you really hard with their fingernail (like rakes it across your skin)?  It looked like that where the Capzasin had dripped down my back--a huge long welt.  MISERY.  I was finally able to fall back asleep around 6 AM, but only by lying on a bag full of ice cubes--that's the only thing that helped.  By the time I woke up, it had calmed down, but let me tell you, I WILL NEVER DO THAT EVER AGAIN!!!!!    

And I threw that bottle away.

Moral of the story:  Unless you want to forget about your muscle pain by inducing a massive BURNING feeling on your skin, don't EVER use this product.

And click HERE if you want someone else's opinion about this.