France – Day 0 – People Do This For Fun?

*I’m on vacation, hopefully far away from a computer/paint brush/box/dirty apartment. So my blog is taking a vacation too. Back to June 2008, during my first trip to France with my shiny brand new passport and my shiny brand new French boyfriend. This was my first trip abroad and I”m surprised David didn’t dump me when we got home.

The drive to SF was fine. We didn’t have to stand in line with the rabble for check in because David flies so much for work he has a gold card. Breezed through security with all my contra-band like a true ninja spy. Drank champagne and ate Babybel cheese and bread in the Air France lounge. They have Mac computers and candy and food and CNN. And booze.

I thought the turbulance would bother me more than it did. At least it added some excitement to the plane ride.

Mostly I wasn’t that scared because statistically you have more chance of dying on a ferris wheel, but that doesn’t really make me feel better when I am ten thousand feet in the air. What does make me feel better is that the French are so proud of anything French that they have too much arrogance to let a plane ever crash. (*** edit from 2012 Not true! But whatever it takes to convince myself to get on a plane for 12 hours.)

They give you tons of food and there was an open bar at the back. After dinner it started getting dark and they told us to shut our windows and everyone started getting out blankets and pillows and going to bed. We were sitting upstairs, and had a wall in front of us, but I don’t know how the rest of the people were able to sleep so deeply surrounded by strangers. Even with all that extra breathing room, I still couldn’t sleep.

So I made myself a drink and wandered around staring at all the sleeping people. Creepy.

Then when the sun came up they fed us again and everyone opened their windows and it was Thursday.

We switched in Paris to get the one hour plane to Marsaille and when we got on the plane David said, “bonjour” and the stewardess said “Bien venue a bord” and when I said “bonjour” the stewardess said “WELCOME ABOARD you stupid amercan tourist”. I mean, all I said was hi and she could still figure out I’m not french. My deception abilities need a lot more work.

I’ve now been awake for 24 hours straight, and I still have a couple hours to go. It’s 8 am in Sacto, and  5 pm here, and we still have to eat and try to stay awake for three more hours, otherwise we will wake up hungry at three am. The bed feels like the most delicious bed in the world, and even though I’m starving, I don’t want to move.

I can attest that France really does exist for all you non-believers. It is not just some weird shaped drawing on a map. It looks just like it does on TV!

But the thing that I keep thinking is, I’m in the south of fucking France.

How the HELL did that happen?

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