Monday, August 11, 2003

Le Poisson-Chat Frite

Last night I dreamed of Paris. I dreamed of sipping une tasse de cafe at a patisserie, of strolling leisurely up and down the Champs-Elysee and also of visiting the little shop on Le Rue Du Rivoli where I purchased my first boite de Limoges. I can almost taste the sandwich du jambon et gateau truffe au chocolat.

I have been missing Paris lately. I think about my time there and am amazed at how free it was. I wonder however if I don’t miss both my naivete and my optimism for the “joie de vive” that the city represents just as much as the city itself.

This is where the romance ends and the bizarre begins. I dreamed I was suddenly granted a three-day trip to Paris via Air France and it had to be taken immediately. So, I did what anyone would do; I jumped at the chance. When I arrived at my hotel I was so exhausted I immediately went to sleep. When I awoke I decided to read for a bit. Then, when I finished reading I was hungry and went out to find a good restaurant. I finally settled on a lovely little Mexican establishment. I don’t remember the name of it but I remember the Mariachi band, in traditional dress, was strolling between tables and playing wonderful little songs. However, on their heads they wore berets instead of sombreros. They also served their Margaritas in glasses shaped as inverted Eiffel Towers. I suppose those were the only two concessions to France. After dinner I decided to go to the movies and after that I felt I needed another nap.

OK, this is crazy. Who, in their right mind, would spend half of their time in Paris reading, eating Mexican food and going to the movies? But wait, it gets even a bit stranger.

On my third day I decided to venture forth into the city of love and happened upon Six Flags over Paris. It was situated so that in order to cross over to the left-bank one had to pass through Six Flags and ride the coaster both named and fashioned after Le Arc De Triomphe. So I did. In the air I noticed a man running through the park and being chased by the police. Having had a birds-eye view I knew exactly where he was hiding. After disembarking I immediately sought him out. I grabbed the package with which he had absconded and made my own mad dash for the cops. The package turned out to be ground meat of some sort and he was actually an undercover cop but no one knew it. I was furious at being duped and thew the meat into the air where it immediately turned into money and everyone was scrambling for it. I, of course, got nothing.

I left Six Flags and made my way across the bridge. I was trying to go to Le Musee d’Orsay because I wanted to see Rodin’s Thinker. I was hungry and decided to stop, of all places, at a restaurant called Le Restaurant du Poisson-Chat Frite. Translated this means Fried Catfish Restaurant. So, I went in, sat down at a little table with a red and white vinyl checked tablecloth. I was immediately given sweet tea, cornbread and green-tomato relish. Again, the servers were dressed traditionally southern, i.e. big hair, shorts, t-shirts and tennis shoes, but were all wearing berets. I supped on salt-and-pepper fried catfish, pinto beans, sliced onions, and coleslaw.

During dinner my husband and mom called me on my cell phone. I was amazed that my reception through AT&T wireless could reach that far considering I have three dead zones all along I-77 in Charlotte. Even the called ID read Mom and Hubby at home. She asked that I bring back some real French chocolate, semi-sweet of course. So, after dinner I began the search for the best chocolate in all of Paris. I went from store to store and patisserie to patisserie sampling the wares. Finally on a sugar high I bought a pound of chocolate and was on my merry way. However, I had to go back through Six Flags to get to my hotel and once I entered I couldn’t find my way out. I saw a sign reading Sorti (exit) and I would take that direction but the scenery would change and there would not actually be an exit there. I wandered aimlessly around for hours and no one could help me. I could see the outside, Paris, from beyond the gates but could not get out of the park. I knew I was going to miss my plane and therefore be stuck and I didn’t know what to do. I had lost my cell phone along the way and oddly enough all the phones in the park were dead. Dejected, I sat down on a bench and then I woke up.

So, what started out as a lovely jaunt to the city of love turned out to be rather a nightmare of surreal proportions.

All this and absolutely no chemical help whatsoever. I’m wondering what I will dream of when I’m all doped up after my surgery.

Thursday, August 07, 2003

Surgery Update

Well, It's official. My surgery is scheduled for 7:30am on Wednesday the 27th of August. I will be having an ACL reconstruction. Woo Hoo. I can't wait! Yes, that was meant to be sarcastic.

Friday, August 01, 2003

Coming Apart at the Seams

Damn! If it’s not one thing it’s another you know? About a week ago I noticed that my car seemed a bit wobbly but as there is major construction (read: uneven pavement and enough potholes that the asphalt looks burned like Swiss cheese) throughout this city and particularly by my abode I just figured my alignment was out of whack.

Well, it has become increasingly worse as the days have passed and so today I took it into Discount Tire Co. for my tires to be rotated and balanced. The guy comes out, looks at my tires and says “It looks like the belt is coming apart on the inside of one, see how your back, right tire is quite uneven? That’s what’s making your passenger seat shake when you drive over 60 miles an hour. I’ll need to look at your other tires to before I can tell you what else may be wrong.”


So, as it turns two of the tires have belt problems and Goodyear will give me $24 of credit for them but the other two tires have dry-rot. How the hell is this possible? I just got these tires a little over a year ago. UGH!

So it looks like I’ll be getting four new tires this weekend. Fortunately we can get them through a place in Hubby’s hometown and we can pay them off in three installments rather than having to fork over the cash right now.
Friday Five

1. What time do you wake up on weekday mornings?

Well, the alarms (yes, that’s plural) start going off about 6:10am and I’m usually up by 6:30am unless it’s a really bad day and then I might get up as late as 6:45. I have a 30+ mile commute every day so I have to leave my house by 7:10am to assure I will be at work by 8:00am. If I leave even as late as 7:15am I may not be on time.

2. Do you sleep in on the weekends? How late?

Abso-freakin-lutely! I love to sleep! I let my body regulate when I get up on the weekends. Whenever it’s had enough sleep it lets me know and I get up.

3. Aside from waking up, what is the first thing you do in the morning?

Turn on the shower, use the bathroom, shed the jammies and hop in the shower.

4. How long does it take to get ready for your day?

On a workday it takes me about 30 minutes or so because I put all my make-up on while sitting at the inordinately long stoplights at which I must sit before getting to the interstate. Hey, it gives me something to do! I also don’t fuss with my hair as much as during the week.

On a weekend I guess it varies. If I have the time I like to add a little bit of pampering to my routine. I might paint my toenails—a variation of red of course—and lavish myself from head-to-toe in wonderfully scented lotion. I might deep condition my hair and use a sugar-based exfoliating scrub all over my body to make my skin as smooth and soft as possible. I might take a long candle-lit bubble bath and read for a while. If I have the time I’ll go through all the moisturizing steps with creams and the like to pamper my face as well. I would actually take the time to fix my hair curly and style it so it looks a tad wanton. I would also take my time with my make-up and not just throw it on like I do for work. If I were to do ALL of those things it would take me about two hours to get ready but I very rarely spend more than an hour even when I’m going out somewhere nice.

5. When possible, what is your favorite place to go for breakfast?

Well, my favorite place to go is called La Madeleine but they don’t have them in our area so I guess my second favorite place would have to be Cracker Barrel. I have never been a big breakfast person but lately I’m coming to enjoy it more and more. I think what I enjoy is leisurely sitting down with friends and family and starting the day off with good coffee and conversation.