Stop

Ever notice how hard it is to get the ice cream truck to actually stop?
It’s the universe’s way of saying, “You don’t need no ice cream, fatass.” To which I reply, “F*ck the universe. I’m going to The Custard Station.”

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It’s a good thing

Just made my first batch of homemade laundry detergent. This recipe had good reviews on the interwebs and is obscenely cheap. Took a bit of elbow grease (had to grate a bar of Fels-Naptha soap), but I watched a PBS special on John Muir while I did it. Ironic, yes?
I’m a regular Martha Stewart, I am. Only without the money. And the sewing ability. And the stick up my arse.
Nevermind. I’m nothing like her. I’m just cheap and have a desire to not harm my family or the environment with unnecessary chemicals.
So excited to try this out! Haven’t been this jazzed to do laundry since we got the front-loader.

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Not home yet, but home

I’m in Atlanta. So, not home yet but home in the country sense. Home in the “hey” sense as opposed to “bonjour.” Thanks instead of merci. I love France, but I love America more.
I lost my passport in the Bordeaux airport (and then found it, obviously), and I nearly killed a Chinese man whose sheer travel ineptitude caused my brand new MacBook to crash to the ground off the security conveyer belt in Paris. Still steaming about that one. Also trying to figure out why I had to go through security three times today, having never left the secured area in any airport.
So, yeah, I’m really ready to be home. This last flight will be considerably shorter than the Paris-Atlanta route, during which I watched three full-length movies, read a bit, napped a bit, and waited for 20 minutes to use the lavatory. My goal in the lav is to get in and out of those things as quickly as possible. What do people DO in there?!
I return triumphant, though. I had escargot. I ate snails, and I liked ’em. Hard not to like something drowned in garlic and butter, though.

• • •

Bonjour!

My adorable little room looks out to an ancient building.
Arrived just fine, along with my luggage. Charles DeGaulle airport is spectacular. Managed to get a bit of sleep between Atlanta and Paris, then more on the way to Bordeaux. My cab driver picked me and another employee up in a BMW. Downtown Libourne is quaint, what little I’ve seen of it. Boss is picking me up shortly for a factory tour. And hopefully some food – I just realized I’m starving! Breakfast was meager, and about seven hours ago on the plane.
It’s about 2:30 pm here. I just talked to Zozo, who is on her way to school for the day. I keep seeing small children, and it makes my heart break to miss her so. I’ve never been so far away from her; I have to just not think about it or I’ll start tearing up.
I’ve showered and changed, and feel like a new person. Must go – shouldn’t keep the boss waiting!

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