Dinner was fun last night. I definitely love Irish accents and have asked him to be on the lookout for an old Irish guy who likes overweight American women and would like to relocate to Milwaukee. I don’t think it’s too much to ask.
We’ll go out to breakfast, then to the post office for me to exchange £ for € (Euros). I’m not taking my computer so will fill in the blanks upon my return on Monday evening. I’m PSYCHED! Life is so good, and (in Kayla’s words) I’m one lucky bug.
On the airplane on my way to Paris—BMI Baby—the discount arm of BMI (British Midlands). The flight attendants wear red sweatshirts or white T-Shirts that say bmibaby.com, reminds me of Southwest Airlines. Kind of fun. Only bad things, because it’s a discount airline there are no frequent flyer miles and if you want a drink or snack you pay for it.
I bought a small book with maps of Paris City Centre, my hotel is on it and is right by the Arc de Triomphe and I also see Notre Dame de Paris and the Louvre. It’s 11 degrees C in Manchester and they said it’s 9 in Paris plus our rain headed over there to the continent. Yuck.
(Later) The weather was so bad that we landed almost before I could see the ground. Windy, cold, cloudy, rainy, yet nothing could get me down. It took me a while to find the bus I needed—the Air France bus to the Place de Charles de Gaulle at the Arc de Triomphe. Immediately after pulling out of the airport I saw part of the Eiffel Tower way off in the distance. My heart started racing and being me I looked around for someone to talk to about it, but no luck. No one was around me at all. After a relatively short trip we arrived at the Arc and I squealed with glee. Yes, I did. Someone told me I’d be disappointed in the Arc, but nosiree, it is huge and beautiful, and everything I knew it would be. My hotel is only one black away from it. In fact, the bus passed my hotel to get to the Arc.
The Etoile Park Hotel is very old. The lift is so small I can barely fit my hips and my luggage in. My room is small too. Very European. Old, but there’s an internet connection in the bar. Very cool.
Walked around. Is May 8th VE day? There’s a band playing at the Arch and lots of flags flying. Someone told me “commemoration.” Very moving.
Went to Le Tilsitt for dinner. Heard people sitting near me struggling with the menu. I said, “They have them in English too.” We laughed, Americans sitting together. Me: Where are you from? Them: Los Angeles. Me: My daughter lives there. Them: Where? Me: Castaic. Insert a beat or two as they pick themselves up from the floor. They’re from Santa Clarita. They live across from College of the Canyons where Jill took some classes. And they hang out at the same Starbucks I do—the one with the cool ledges for kids to play on. I showed them pictures of me with Kayla and Hunter playing there. I told them that in June I’m taking the kids to Chuckie Cheese’s right across the street from there. Also, Marlene is a writer and has a BA in it from Cal State Northridge. They use the Iowa Writers’ Workshop methods there. We had so much in common. Her husband Neil is an engineer. They took my card and said they’d email so we can get together when I’m in LA. I still can’t believe that this happened. I know exactly where their home is.
Now to important things—for dinner I had a big salad, white wine and an apple torte. I decided that instead of beer I’d drink wine since I was in France. Good stuff.
After dinner I walked a big, found an ATM because I didn’t have any Euros, and then went to my room. Turned on CNN, read a while and slept very well in the tiny bed. Felt like a little girl in it..
posted by Jerilyn Dufresne, author @ 17:00
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