Friday, December 28, 2007
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Oh, on the way to London, The Boyfriend sat in business while I flirted in economy. Come fly with me. At Charles de Gaulle airport, there was a suspicious package and the army guys came with their AK47s along with the bomb squad. They blew it up. Boy what a loud noise. At Heathrow, a pretty young thing was frisked much to the delight of male passengers in line, including The Boyfriend. On the way home, we had one of those captains who takes long pauses while he speaks. He came on the air and said in a baritone voice, "This is your Captain. [pregnant pause]. I need to tell you something [pregnant pause while I'm thinking, "Oh my God, we're going down"]. And then he'd said something innocuous. Aghhhh.
We'll always have Paris and coffee on par with that we had in Italy along with darn fine curry at the Indian restaurant near Heathrow.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Ah, what do you think the first thing my office buds said, "What, no biking! Is he going through cyclopause or bikeopause? Is he okay? Did he fall off his bike and hit his head?"
We're leaving this Sunday. We'll be staying at a family run hotel in Montmartre, you know, Toulouse Lautrec, Moulin Rouge, Lapin Agile. C'est tout pour maintenant.