Departure
November 13, 2007 | Filed under: Planes trains and automobiles, Va-cay-cay-cay
“To get away from one’s working environment is, in a sense, to get away from one’s self; and this is often the chief advantage of travel and change.” ~Charles Horton Cooley
About seven minutes before stepping on the Airtrain to JFK, I decided to check the crackberry for any last minute work email that I might need to respond to. This would probably give one the impression that I am highly important with my office and window and excessive travel and what not, but that’s actually a load of bullshit. The real problem is that I spent several years with a boss who took great pleasure in forcing my first crackberry into my hands and then making me respond to emails at 7 PM on a Saturday night while he was out club hopping in Atlanta and I was sitting in my apartment crying because I knew that by Monday, I’d want to toss myself off the balcony once again. Rinse and repeat for 19 months. Even though my current boss isn’t anywhere close to Stalin-esque I still felt compelled to quickly check one last time even though I am fully aware that nothing good ever comes from checking work email while not at work or about to get on an international flight.
And wouldn’t you know, I checked my email and their blaring, with a little red “read this or else you’ll be unemployed” envelope was a message that forced my blood pressure to sky rocket and my heart to feel as if it were beating out of my chest. An email that sent me reeling into the depths of “Ohmygodi’mgoingtoprisonandtherewillbeorangejumpsuits” type panic and so I replied as calmly as possible after my very well imagined possible threat of handcuffs and Federal prison for not filling out a form and then called my mother breathless because I do NOT look good in orange. And the material the handcuffs would be made from would cause me to break out. My mother told me to calm the fuck down but with gentler language because her tongue would fall out of her mouth if she ever dared use the word ‘fuck’. She soothed me and told me that I was on my way out to France and maybe a xanax or some vodka or throwing my crackberry onto the train tracks would do me some good. I checked my email one more time and noticed a response and was told by my coworker that “it” would be taken care of, not to worry, and why the hell are you checking your email you psychotic bitch? So I turned it off and went to France.
There are a million things I could say about Paris and will need to process over the next few days. Because even though I was only there for five days, it feels like I was a world away and it doesn’t help that I was sick on the way there and that I now am going to the West coast for six days. It will be really great to see my internal clockwork spontaneously combust. At any rate, I always feel this way when I return to Europe for I’m going from a very chill and zen-like while lolling around drinking coffee in the middle of the day and purchasing the softest tights known to woman to being thrust back into the cold cruel world and the soft vibrations of electronic devices every ten minutes.
The plane ride there was superb, I am so very blessed to be one of those people who plops her ass right at her window seat and then falls asleep for seven hours. I’ve seen those people, once or twice, the ones who don’t sleep. Walking up and down the aisles of the main cabin with sunken eyes, staring at the monitor that counts down the miles and hours left until arrival. Their skin gray and slacking and why, God, why are they not wearing shoes? I stare at them and shake my head and fall back into blissful slumber after a double dose of Moet and Cotes du Rhone. That’s what they give you on the way to France, champagne, wine, a baguette and Camembert. It’s like a little foreplay for what you’ll be getting upon touchdown. Like “Oh yeah, you think this is good baby? Wait until you see how I can make you feel once you try the chevre and a crepe with nutella. I’ll have you eating out of the palm of my hand.” Well then, consider me wooed.
Katie says:
I’ll fly to France anyday just to get all the goodies they give you on the flight over! Also, the picture of the ferris wheel is awesome. Love it!
Maria says:
Oh I love the photos! Kisses back at you.
I am one of those people on any flight. Short flights don’t make a difference. Then again I don’t sleep much when I am home.
Lori says:
The photos are great! Glad you could get away for a while. Can’t wait to hear more about what you did each day in France. Mmmm, croissants. Mmmm, cafe au lait. OK, maybe I don’t *technically* need all the details, but I will await them all the same.
kim says:
wonderful photos- i particularly like the tourist/bird
Angella says:
Sweet photos! You are mastering your camera quickly!
Welcome back - hope your internal clock doesn’t combust
Jamie says:
That picture of the ferris wheel is seriously gorgeous. Would you be open to making it available for prints to be purchased or ordered?
Jamie says:
Hold the phone. I go offline for a few days, and now I noticed AC’s photo copyright in the bottom bar, and her site’s down? How could the two of you do this to me?!
Hope everything’s alright.
Take care!
She Likes Purple says:
Great pictures! I love them.
Also, what screen that tells you the miles and minutes left until arrival? I’ve never seen such a screen? Is this only an internationlly-featured screen? I’m so intrigued!
nabbalicious says:
Love the pics! It looks like you had an amazing time. I’m seething over here.
Kristabella says:
Welcome back! Glad you had a great time!
I’m jealous of your ability to sleep like that. I’m good for an hour or two, but because I’m 6 feet tall, and that’s all in my legs, I get uncomfortable. Fast.
Have fun on the left coast!
Dagny says:
Sounds like a great trip — once you turned off the Crackberry. Hopefully I’ll get a chance to travel in the next year.
LVGurl says:
Okay, jealous on two fronts.
1. PARIS! I love Paris. I want to be in Paris. Now.
2. That you can sleep on a plane. I’m the poor soul that fidgets and squirms and gets frustrated.
Keep having a great time!!
Janet says:
Oh, Paris. Fabulous, fabulous Paris.
What lovely photos!
kris says:
Mmmmm. A baguette. Avec butter. And ham. And cheese. I’m sure Safeway does it just like that boulangerie you stopped by . . .
Liz says:
Beautiful.
Aimee Greeblemonkey says:
Freaking awesome photos.
And my mom used the word fuck today. First time in her entire life. I swear to god.
metalia says:
Welcome back! The pictures are fabulous.
(Camembert? On the plane? Really?)
Abi says:
Welcome to California. Isn’t the weather nice?
Angela says:
After all of that cheese talk, for one brief moment I really wondered if that statue was carved out of brie. And now I need some Nutella.
Bone says:
and then called my mother breathless because I do NOT look good in orange.
And this is why I come here.
That last pic reminded me of that movie, The Birds.
Zandria says:
I miss Paris! I’m glad you had such an awesome trip. Great photos!
Valeen says:
Your photo’s were wonderful. Specially the last one..almost felt like i was there to snap the picture
Courtney says:
Love this post and am so jealous you went there! SIGH.
Courtney says:
Forgot to add that I am the weirdo who, if she doesn’t sleep, she is staring at the map with the clock that shows how many hours are left to the flight, the temps, etc. That is like my crack on the plane: Are we there YET?
I am not one to walk the aisles. I’m too scared to nudge the scary person next to me so I can go pee in a telephone booth-sized place.
And I do like taking my shoes off! Comfy socks all the way!
tiff says:
fabulous! I’m on my way there in a few weeks, can’t wait for the foreplay on the plane and the full sensory experience when I land. I’m talking about Paris!
Thursday says:
I am one of those sunken-eyed people you’ve seen on the plane. I never, ever take my shoes off tho’ as I’d never get them back on. Just found you, great blog, splendid photos.
Mocha says:
I wanted to go with you.
I wanted to take great pictures like you did.
I’m a little pissed.
wunelle says:
Mmmmm. Paris. I love that place. The pictures are like a drug.
I’m also one of those people who falls asleep immediately upon plunking in my seat. The other crewmembers have to keep waking me up to do things–like take off and land.
OK, that whole paragraph is a lie. I can’t sleep on planes for shit.
No Pasa Nada » Blog Archive » 12 minutes after drafting this, I slept for 8 solid hours says:
[...] hours after returning from Paris I left for Las Vegas where I proceeded to stay up for 27 hours. The next day I left for San Diego [...]