freedom. frites.

Buon giorno Bonjour! Back from Paris, where you need more than cropped pants and skirts to combat the 60 degree temps. Oops. I thought France was hot? Also, much harder this time around not knowing the least bit of French. Especially when I kept trying to use Italian on them.

French Kinder: just as delicious, and comes with Tony Parker!

Quote of the vacation:
DP: [after looking at some fancy kid stroller] I wish they made strollers for adults.
The Twin: Yeah, they’re called wheelchairs.

Honorable mention:
DP: So who was Charles de Gaulle and why does he have an airport named after him?
The Twin: I think he was some famous explorer.
Mom: Um, he was a French President.

Moment of enlightenment: They just call it ‘onion soup’ over there.

The Good: French people were actually a lot nicer than expected and most spoke English. Probably because there are so many tourists in Paris.
The Bad: said tourists really clog up the lines at places like the Lourve. Take a picture of Mona and be done with it already!
The Ugly: the first night back in the states, we have a company dinner.. at a French restaurant. It wasn’t good. But I guess that goes without saying.
And The Brutal: The US dollar to Euro conversion rate.

Unfortunately, my camera cord is in Boston, so until I figure out a workaround (anyone got a Sony card reader?), they will remain stuck. In the meantime, you can picture danaheads abound: Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower, at the Lourve with the Nike goddess (no not me, the actual Winged Victory of Samothrace, the original Nike goddess), ancient castles, Arc de Triomphe, Marie Antoinette’s holding cell, et al.

This is my first summer in 3 years I haven’t been able to watch the Tour de France daily. Sigh. GO CVV (current boyfriend of the moment is in 3rd place in the overall GC).

BTW, the Nike Paris has some pretty sweet TdF gear. And so much more soccer football stuff. But again, the Euro conversion just made things downright depressing.

Back in The City, with some last ditch half marathon training efforts. Mike came down from the bean to eat dumplings with me. Decided that New York bagels have magical hangover healing powers. Still have not gotten paid. You know, the usual.


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