While in Paris I'm staying in a lovely apartment that is stocked with not only all the comforts of home but a generous bookshelf filled with books on Paris and some novels. I picked up The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson, a book based on the true accounts of the World Exhibition held in Chicago in 1893 interspersed with a grisly tale of a serial killer. The plot links Chicago and Paris because of the desire for the Chicago organizers to "out-Eiffel Eiffel" with a structure to rival the Eiffel Tower, created for the previous World Exhibition held right here in Paris. [This turned out to be an ingenious device created by a young man named Ferris who invented a large wheel capable of carrying people around the wheel to dizzying heights.]
And so it was with new appreciation for La Tour Eiffel that we visited that structure once despised by the Parisians who nicknamed it "The Giant Asparagus" but which is now a universal symbol for this beautiful city. Comprised of 12,000 pieces of metal and 2,500,000 rivets, the Eiffel Tower is a draw for people all over the world. We heard half a dozen languages spoken, including some very incendiary expletives from a woman who tried to bargain with a souvenir vendor, to no avail.
A boat trip further expanded our knowledge of the glorious history of the city and we glided under bridges built in the early 1600s, admiring the sights on both sides of the Seine. After the cruise we walked along the river and, having just read The Day Diana Died by Christopher Andersen, I had to lead my son Will and his girlfriend Yesenia to the spot on the Pont l'Alma where people go to honor the memory of Princess Diana. The statue, a replica of the torch held by the Statue of Liberty, has become an informal shrine to the late Princess who was killed in an automobile accident in 1997 in the underpass below. You'll find notes and flowers there in spite of no official sign.
Later we wandered off to an area by le Jardin des Tuileries, across from which is a very high-end shopping district. The fashions in the window are a form of art themselves and I was reminded that Paris is the place for haute couture. Ooh la lah! Valentino, Versace, Dior, Chanel... the saints of fashion all lined up in a row.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Spirits in Paris
What is it about cemetaries that draw us to them? The sense of history, the beauty of the monuments, an eeriness combined with a strange comfort of continuity among generations... all of these are present and more at La Cimetiere du Pere-Lachaise. (Please excuse the lack of accent marks--I can't seem to find them within this blogging format.) This famous graveyard, profiled in dozens of movies, hosts the bones of literary greats, politicians, French dignitaries and, probably the most highly-profiled for Americans, Jim Morrison of the Doors. You may remember Mr. Morrison died an early death while visiting in Paris.
We didn't get to see Mr. Morrison's grave yesterday because the skies opened up and we got drenched in a downpour, caught without our umbrellas. We headed for cover, any type of cover, and ended up squeezed in a tiny open mausoleum compliments of the Chevreaux family who didn't seem to object. What first seemed kind of creepy was actually delightful, avoiding the rain by enjoying the hospitality of a family long gone. The downpour subsided enough for us to head out of the cemetery and back to "le Metro" (Paris' wonderful subway system) and on our way out of the cemetery we noticed we weren't the only ones who ducked for cover under an open crypt.
Before the rain began we did find our way to one of the graves I'd wanted to see: that of writer Colette. This dream of mine, to live in Paris, was planted long ago as a young student of literature and Colette was one of the many writers and artists I'd admired along with Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald and the ex-pat writers of the "Lost Generation" in the 1920s. This schoolgirl fascination with all things Parisian resulted in voracious reading and I loved Colette, a brave woman ahead of her time who made her living as an artist--not an easy thing for anyone to do but especially a woman writer in the early 1900s. To see her grave gave me a complex rush of feelings, nostalgic for a time I never experienced, honored to pay homage to her and sad to see her name, all alone, on the gravestone.
Pere-Lachaise is filled with elaborate sculptures, engraved lines of poetry, old photos cast on stone and miles and miles of family history, all of which I wanted to know about. The rain chased us away but we'll be back. We still need to honor the spirit of Oscar Wilde, the famous playwright whose last words on his deathbed were reported to be "Either this wallpaper goes or I do!"
We didn't get to see Mr. Morrison's grave yesterday because the skies opened up and we got drenched in a downpour, caught without our umbrellas. We headed for cover, any type of cover, and ended up squeezed in a tiny open mausoleum compliments of the Chevreaux family who didn't seem to object. What first seemed kind of creepy was actually delightful, avoiding the rain by enjoying the hospitality of a family long gone. The downpour subsided enough for us to head out of the cemetery and back to "le Metro" (Paris' wonderful subway system) and on our way out of the cemetery we noticed we weren't the only ones who ducked for cover under an open crypt.
Before the rain began we did find our way to one of the graves I'd wanted to see: that of writer Colette. This dream of mine, to live in Paris, was planted long ago as a young student of literature and Colette was one of the many writers and artists I'd admired along with Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald and the ex-pat writers of the "Lost Generation" in the 1920s. This schoolgirl fascination with all things Parisian resulted in voracious reading and I loved Colette, a brave woman ahead of her time who made her living as an artist--not an easy thing for anyone to do but especially a woman writer in the early 1900s. To see her grave gave me a complex rush of feelings, nostalgic for a time I never experienced, honored to pay homage to her and sad to see her name, all alone, on the gravestone.
Pere-Lachaise is filled with elaborate sculptures, engraved lines of poetry, old photos cast on stone and miles and miles of family history, all of which I wanted to know about. The rain chased us away but we'll be back. We still need to honor the spirit of Oscar Wilde, the famous playwright whose last words on his deathbed were reported to be "Either this wallpaper goes or I do!"
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Sunday at Notre Dame Cathedral
My son Will and his lovely friend Yesenia arrived yesterday via train from Lyon where they were attending a week-long cooking class compliments of College of DuPage in Glen Ellyn, IL. I was so happy to see them! And so happy to have someone to talk to after three days of only speaking broken French with politely tolerant natives.
I spent the day walking from my apartment into Paris, enjoying the Ile de la Cite (sorry, no accent marks) and having a cafe and chocolate mousse before heading over to the Gare de Lyon, what seems like the world's largest train station. While waiting for Will and Yesenia's train to come in, I walked along the Quai (prounounced "kee") and admired all the books and prints in each of the little kiosks that are draped along the side of the Seine. I was startled to see a swimming pool for children and their families right next to the river. People on the boat tour waved to me as I peered over le Pont St. Michel, one of the many bridges connecting the Left Bank (Rive Gauche) to the Right Bank (Rive Droit).
This morning we're headed to Notre Dame for services which the Internet says are offered six times on Sunday.
I spent the day walking from my apartment into Paris, enjoying the Ile de la Cite (sorry, no accent marks) and having a cafe and chocolate mousse before heading over to the Gare de Lyon, what seems like the world's largest train station. While waiting for Will and Yesenia's train to come in, I walked along the Quai (prounounced "kee") and admired all the books and prints in each of the little kiosks that are draped along the side of the Seine. I was startled to see a swimming pool for children and their families right next to the river. People on the boat tour waved to me as I peered over le Pont St. Michel, one of the many bridges connecting the Left Bank (Rive Gauche) to the Right Bank (Rive Droit).
This morning we're headed to Notre Dame for services which the Internet says are offered six times on Sunday.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Je suis ici! (I am here!)
Day Two
I'm here! "Je suis ici," as they would say in Paris. My French is, alas, more than rusty. Yes, I got good grades in college French--thirty + years ago. Oh, well... the French give you points for trying.
Yesterday was spent mostly recovering from the flight. Although the flight was pleasant, the landing left me feeling a little wobbly. I took my time, remembering my last visit to Charles de Gaulle airport meeting up with friend Diane Demrick. She'd be proud of me for traveling much lighter this time.
I found my way via le Metro and Bus #91 to the apartment on Rue Arago without any trouble. What a lovely place to live for a month! In spite of knowing better, I slept, then took a long walk going one way on Rue Arago. I watched a little TV, all in French of course, and caught the tail end of an episode of "Law & Order." My body may take a while to catch up with the time zone.
Today I ventured out and walked the other way, managing to massacre the French language at the Pharmacie, the cafe' and the marche' where I bought some groceries. Then I stopped in at the phone store and asked about my voicemail, which I am distressed to learn I cannot access without some serious roaming charges. Between the shopkeeper's broken English and my faulty French, we agreed I should visit the Orange Store which is at Place d'Italie. I had just had an early dinner of crepes and Duvel at Place d'Italie so I know where to go tomorrow.
The thing about traveling is that you feel like such a dufus. Everything is so... foreign. The money. The language. The neighborhood. The map. But that's why I came, oui? To learn. Traveling takes you so far out of your comfort zone, it has to be good for you. I sat at an outside cafe' and watched people coming and going, meeting friends for drinks, picking up spouses from work, kissing each other hello and goodbye (both cheeks, of course) and was amazed at the variety of people. As I'd observed before when visiting in 2007, even the smallest children are tres chic.
I'm here! "Je suis ici," as they would say in Paris. My French is, alas, more than rusty. Yes, I got good grades in college French--thirty + years ago. Oh, well... the French give you points for trying.
Yesterday was spent mostly recovering from the flight. Although the flight was pleasant, the landing left me feeling a little wobbly. I took my time, remembering my last visit to Charles de Gaulle airport meeting up with friend Diane Demrick. She'd be proud of me for traveling much lighter this time.
I found my way via le Metro and Bus #91 to the apartment on Rue Arago without any trouble. What a lovely place to live for a month! In spite of knowing better, I slept, then took a long walk going one way on Rue Arago. I watched a little TV, all in French of course, and caught the tail end of an episode of "Law & Order." My body may take a while to catch up with the time zone.
Today I ventured out and walked the other way, managing to massacre the French language at the Pharmacie, the cafe' and the marche' where I bought some groceries. Then I stopped in at the phone store and asked about my voicemail, which I am distressed to learn I cannot access without some serious roaming charges. Between the shopkeeper's broken English and my faulty French, we agreed I should visit the Orange Store which is at Place d'Italie. I had just had an early dinner of crepes and Duvel at Place d'Italie so I know where to go tomorrow.
The thing about traveling is that you feel like such a dufus. Everything is so... foreign. The money. The language. The neighborhood. The map. But that's why I came, oui? To learn. Traveling takes you so far out of your comfort zone, it has to be good for you. I sat at an outside cafe' and watched people coming and going, meeting friends for drinks, picking up spouses from work, kissing each other hello and goodbye (both cheeks, of course) and was amazed at the variety of people. As I'd observed before when visiting in 2007, even the smallest children are tres chic.
Monday, July 26, 2010
T Minus Two
Leaving for Paris in two days--yikes! My plans for preparation have been sidelined by a flooded basement, but not for long. I'm balancing cleaning debris with creating a Paris punchlist so I don't forget anything.
I'm getting recommendations on Paris doings from friends and friends of friends, which is very comforting. I must say I've questioned my sanity from time to time about this trip. Although I've said this trip makes up for missing my junior year abroad, there's no one from a university to set up the curriculum for me. Oh, never mind--that's what I do for a living.
Do I have any expectations? Yes. That my brain will be scrambled because that's what travel does. Travel scrambles your brain so your neural networks start taking a different route to work. Then, once our brains are scrambled we can see new possibilities for ourselves and our work. My plan, if I have any plan at all, is to be open to new ideas that will cultivate my business and the business of my clients. I'm not sure what that will look like but I'm creating it will happen. Just like that--a declaration.
I'm getting recommendations on Paris doings from friends and friends of friends, which is very comforting. I must say I've questioned my sanity from time to time about this trip. Although I've said this trip makes up for missing my junior year abroad, there's no one from a university to set up the curriculum for me. Oh, never mind--that's what I do for a living.
Do I have any expectations? Yes. That my brain will be scrambled because that's what travel does. Travel scrambles your brain so your neural networks start taking a different route to work. Then, once our brains are scrambled we can see new possibilities for ourselves and our work. My plan, if I have any plan at all, is to be open to new ideas that will cultivate my business and the business of my clients. I'm not sure what that will look like but I'm creating it will happen. Just like that--a declaration.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Venturing forth... to Wisconsin
Yesterday I experimented with travel by heading up north to friend Leslie's son's graduation party. I chose an alternate route on my way home, heading south on 31 instead of staying on Interstate 90. That's about as adventurous as I've been geographically. I did find the Grenzows' home handily thanks to Mapquest.
The greenness of Wisconsin and the neatly packaged farms brought me back to my childhood in Milwaukee and even in Maine where we would venture forth as a family to explore the flora and fauna of whichever state we happened to reside in. I suppose that was one of the many benefits of moving around a lot as a kid--I got to see a lot of countryside. Wisconsin makes me think of camping and camping makes me think of... well, frankly, it makes me think of the Ritz Carlton. That's where I prefer to "camp."
Blogging is like keeping a diary only everyone can read it. To make proper use of this technology, I ought to ask a question, so here goes: Do you like to camp? If so, why? And if not, why not?
The greenness of Wisconsin and the neatly packaged farms brought me back to my childhood in Milwaukee and even in Maine where we would venture forth as a family to explore the flora and fauna of whichever state we happened to reside in. I suppose that was one of the many benefits of moving around a lot as a kid--I got to see a lot of countryside. Wisconsin makes me think of camping and camping makes me think of... well, frankly, it makes me think of the Ritz Carlton. That's where I prefer to "camp."
Blogging is like keeping a diary only everyone can read it. To make proper use of this technology, I ought to ask a question, so here goes: Do you like to camp? If so, why? And if not, why not?
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Sunday Adventure
Today I'm headed up to McFarland, WI, to celebrate the high school graduation of Peter Grenzow, the son of my oldest "BFF." Leslie Grenzow (nee Proctor) and I grew up together for some years in a two-flat in Milwaukee and we broke all the roller-skating records on our block the old-fashioned way--with the kind of skates that are clamped to your shoes and then a strap around the ankle. We kept our skate keys on a string around our necks.
I'm still amazed that my "girlfriends" are graduating children from high school AND college... and that my nieces and nephews are having babies of their own.
Leslie and I have a ritual rendezvous: several times a year we meet in Richmond, IL, which is half-way between our respective homes in McFarland and Wheaton. Richmond is a quaint little town filled with antique shops. We hit the shops, have lunch, hit the shops again and hug goodbye until our next rendezvous. She and I had a standing date on the morning my dad passed away and I kept the date--who better to console me than my oldest friend? I drove up for her dad's funeral and it was my great comfort to be in the kitchen with the "church ladies" as we cleaned and dried dishes after the reception.
Today will be a celebration, and I'm honored to be a guest.
I'm still amazed that my "girlfriends" are graduating children from high school AND college... and that my nieces and nephews are having babies of their own.
Leslie and I have a ritual rendezvous: several times a year we meet in Richmond, IL, which is half-way between our respective homes in McFarland and Wheaton. Richmond is a quaint little town filled with antique shops. We hit the shops, have lunch, hit the shops again and hug goodbye until our next rendezvous. She and I had a standing date on the morning my dad passed away and I kept the date--who better to console me than my oldest friend? I drove up for her dad's funeral and it was my great comfort to be in the kitchen with the "church ladies" as we cleaned and dried dishes after the reception.
Today will be a celebration, and I'm honored to be a guest.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Getting Ready
I've decided to revive my blog, "Quotidian Adventures," in preparation for my trip to Paris in August. Granted, "quotidian" is a word not everyone knows but this will give people an opportunity to use the dictionary function on their computers. Besides, it says exactly what I want to do: record my daily adventures.
My adventure has really already begun. I have an apartment rented in the 13th arrondisement (thank you, Jackie Sloane) and my ticket is purchased via frequent flier miles (thank you, John Kenney). Son William and his girlfriend Yesenia will be joining me in Week 1, along with my husband Bill. All will be with me to celebrate my 54th birthday August 6.
These past three years have brought blogging a long way... some would say it's required of all small business owners. I was ahead of my time, then lagged behind. Thanks to the contribution of Joy Meredith (www.joymeredith.com), I'm getting back on track with my social media. Am I the only one who sometimes thinks it's anti-social media?
Before I head off to Paris, I'm visiting North Carolina next week for the 3rd annual Energetic Women Conference. If there's anywhere I belong it's among other energetic women. These women, however, are actually professionals in the energy field: energy engineering and operations. Love those women engineers!
Then my travels take me to Phoenix for a week where I'll be in residence as the new Director of Alumni Affairs and Marketing for the Walker Center for Entrepreneurship at Thunderbird. I'm excited about spending the week there, talking to the folks at the Center and on campus about the possibility of doing a research project. My idea is to do a survey of those who attended Thunderbird's executive MBA program (executive master's in international management in my day) and get feedback on how many of them began as entrepreneurs and how many of them became entrepreneurs. Not looking for a causal effect but more to see how the program may have contributed to alumni who, like me, launched a business following graduation. That should be fun.
I know that blogs are supposed to be interactive, so let me ask this question: If you're an entrepreneur, do you have a desire to "go global?" Or are you global already?
My adventure has really already begun. I have an apartment rented in the 13th arrondisement (thank you, Jackie Sloane) and my ticket is purchased via frequent flier miles (thank you, John Kenney). Son William and his girlfriend Yesenia will be joining me in Week 1, along with my husband Bill. All will be with me to celebrate my 54th birthday August 6.
These past three years have brought blogging a long way... some would say it's required of all small business owners. I was ahead of my time, then lagged behind. Thanks to the contribution of Joy Meredith (www.joymeredith.com), I'm getting back on track with my social media. Am I the only one who sometimes thinks it's anti-social media?
Before I head off to Paris, I'm visiting North Carolina next week for the 3rd annual Energetic Women Conference. If there's anywhere I belong it's among other energetic women. These women, however, are actually professionals in the energy field: energy engineering and operations. Love those women engineers!
Then my travels take me to Phoenix for a week where I'll be in residence as the new Director of Alumni Affairs and Marketing for the Walker Center for Entrepreneurship at Thunderbird. I'm excited about spending the week there, talking to the folks at the Center and on campus about the possibility of doing a research project. My idea is to do a survey of those who attended Thunderbird's executive MBA program (executive master's in international management in my day) and get feedback on how many of them began as entrepreneurs and how many of them became entrepreneurs. Not looking for a causal effect but more to see how the program may have contributed to alumni who, like me, launched a business following graduation. That should be fun.
I know that blogs are supposed to be interactive, so let me ask this question: If you're an entrepreneur, do you have a desire to "go global?" Or are you global already?
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Back at the Blog...
It's August and I'm back. In order to answer my question about "Where do I go next?" I joined the blogger group for Empowering Women Network (http://www.empoweringwomen.net/), a group of fabulous business women, and am learning more and more from Heidi Miller (http://www.heidimillerpresents.com/) who is leading the charge for EWN's blog. I'm part of a brave group of pioneers helping create EWN's blog and I want to revive this blog as a platform for communicating with clients, colleagues and friends.
I lost an opportunity to blog while in Taipei, Taiwan, on business for ModusLink, but God knows I tried. While in my gorgeous hotel room, I had no trouble logging on from the five-star hotel Grand Formosa Regent Hotel, but when I linked onto my blog, it showed up in German! I couldn't figure out how to switch the language--French, yes, and Spanish, OK, but I couldn't even fake my way through German (much less Mandarin Chinese), so I had to laugh and sign off. I guess that means CHOICES Worldwide really HAS gone worldwide when my blog shows up in some random foreign language. (I'll have to ask Heidi about that one.)
My next mission: to let people know I even have a blog. According to Heidi, who is a corporate spokesperson with amazing technical skills and known as EWN's Podcast Princess, blogs are an ideal format for creating two-way conversations. And people can't respond if they don't know I'm here... so I'll get cracking on that. In the meantime, check out my contribution to EWN's blog and if you're a woman in business in the Chicago area, please consider joining us. EWN is one of the most powerful women's business groups I know.
I lost an opportunity to blog while in Taipei, Taiwan, on business for ModusLink, but God knows I tried. While in my gorgeous hotel room, I had no trouble logging on from the five-star hotel Grand Formosa Regent Hotel, but when I linked onto my blog, it showed up in German! I couldn't figure out how to switch the language--French, yes, and Spanish, OK, but I couldn't even fake my way through German (much less Mandarin Chinese), so I had to laugh and sign off. I guess that means CHOICES Worldwide really HAS gone worldwide when my blog shows up in some random foreign language. (I'll have to ask Heidi about that one.)
My next mission: to let people know I even have a blog. According to Heidi, who is a corporate spokesperson with amazing technical skills and known as EWN's Podcast Princess, blogs are an ideal format for creating two-way conversations. And people can't respond if they don't know I'm here... so I'll get cracking on that. In the meantime, check out my contribution to EWN's blog and if you're a woman in business in the Chicago area, please consider joining us. EWN is one of the most powerful women's business groups I know.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Blogger Etiquette?
Frankly, I'm stumped on how to proceed as a blogger. I have blogging friends I admire--among them Barry Moltz, author of You Need to Be a Little Crazy, one of the best books I've ever read on starting your own business, and Francine Hardaway, the irrepressible doyenne of opinion based in Phoenix and Half-Moon Bay. Francine's facility with technology inspires me and I'm looking forward to her conference coming up in November, the Second Annual Entrepreneurship Conference in Phoenix. And of course there's my hero, Tom Peters, whose blog was one of the first I'd ever read.
So now that I've documented my trip to Paris, do I continue with random thoughts? How to balance the personal, since this feels like a diary, with professional, since I'm inviting others to read it? I'm clearly going to have to do some more research on the art form of blogging itself.
In the meantime, I'm back in the swing of things in Wheaton, IL. My clients John Kenney and Kristen Diamond from ModusLink were in Chicago this week and we had a great day at my office space in downtown Chicago (compliments of HQ Global), reviewing our presentations and discussing the format for taking the sales training program to Asia.
Kristen came up with the brilliant idea to create three "tracks" so the participants can rotate through our sessions in order to accommodate getting each of them videotaped for presentation training. The Asian sales force, like the European one, is comprised of people from all parts of Asia, so we can't do a "one size fits all" approach. This is a very exciting project and I am forever indebted to John for inviting me to collaborate with him and his team.
This afternoon I'm heading off to my husband Bill's school, Esperanza, for their cake-walk and carnival. I'm looking forward to meeting his co-workers and students. He teaches special education to high schoolers at this alternative school and has a quiet fortitude about making a difference with these kids. In the meantime, I'm enjoying my morning coffee, watching the much-needed rain outdoors, admiring the two dogs lounging on the couch like bookends (we're "baby-sitting" our daughter's dog, Jake) and feeling only a modicum of guilt about missing my aerobics class due to a sinus headache.
So now that I've documented my trip to Paris, do I continue with random thoughts? How to balance the personal, since this feels like a diary, with professional, since I'm inviting others to read it? I'm clearly going to have to do some more research on the art form of blogging itself.
In the meantime, I'm back in the swing of things in Wheaton, IL. My clients John Kenney and Kristen Diamond from ModusLink were in Chicago this week and we had a great day at my office space in downtown Chicago (compliments of HQ Global), reviewing our presentations and discussing the format for taking the sales training program to Asia.
Kristen came up with the brilliant idea to create three "tracks" so the participants can rotate through our sessions in order to accommodate getting each of them videotaped for presentation training. The Asian sales force, like the European one, is comprised of people from all parts of Asia, so we can't do a "one size fits all" approach. This is a very exciting project and I am forever indebted to John for inviting me to collaborate with him and his team.
This afternoon I'm heading off to my husband Bill's school, Esperanza, for their cake-walk and carnival. I'm looking forward to meeting his co-workers and students. He teaches special education to high schoolers at this alternative school and has a quiet fortitude about making a difference with these kids. In the meantime, I'm enjoying my morning coffee, watching the much-needed rain outdoors, admiring the two dogs lounging on the couch like bookends (we're "baby-sitting" our daughter's dog, Jake) and feeling only a modicum of guilt about missing my aerobics class due to a sinus headache.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Back Home Again
Flew back home yesterday and am feeling the effects of jet lag as well as Claritan D after suffering a major allergy attack the evening before I left... but I'm unpacked and back in the office now, trying to remember what I was doing before I left. Time to check e-mail, voicemail and catch up on all things not Paris-related.
Brought mon chien Peanut with me to work today and the first thing I did was walk with Peanut, my office-mate Jeff and his beautiful daughter Grace to the coffee shop down the street. I have to go through re-entry carefully (like a space shuttle) so it seemed a good idea to begin my day with a trip to the local cafe. Jeff brought his cat to his office because they're trying to sell their home, so between the dog on my side of the office and a cat on his, we have the animal kingdom covered. The joy of being self-employed! There's been more than one time that I've thought of going back into the corporate life, only to remember I can't bring my dog and dismissed the idea summarily.
The trip back was great--John, my client, bless his heart, upgraded my ticket to business class. It's a whole new world for this business traveler. I needed an in-service just to figure out how the chair, which reclines into an almost-bed, and the individual TV worked. A kind gentleman, Jon, was my seat mate and because his work causes him to travel extensively, he was my tutor throughout the flight. Between the attentiveness of the flight attendants and the copious amounts of food (I passed up most of the unlimited offers of champagne and wine, having consumed more than enough on my travels), it became clear to me that business class is the only way to go. I kept thinking of the line from an old song, "How you gonna keep 'em down on the farm, now that they've seen Paree?"
Due to aforementioned allergy attack, I didn't have the opportunity to post my last blog from Paris at the Sofitel, where our meetings went well and I got to know the sales team. My presentation was Wednesday morning and the team was generous in participating in the interactive portion... I asked each of them to think back to early memories of when they knew they were good at selling.
Every one of them had a great story to tell, from featuring eggs in a county fair-like competition and winning (didn't have a chicken so he went out and bought the eggs) to setting up a home business as early as six years old. One gentleman set up a team of friends whom he sent out to do chores, and he collected the money a la Tom Sawyer (can you say "override"?) The group proved not only that they were gifted from an early age but that necessity is often the mother of invention--and, more importantly, innovation. It will take me a while to get the sound of the lilting French, Irish, English, Scottish and Dutch accents from my head.
It was with sorrow that I left beautiful Paris and in going through my e-mail, came across a quotation cited by a woman who has an ex-patriate blog of her own... she quoted Ben Franklin, who was known to say, "Everyone has two countries; the one in which he was born, and France.” Now I, too, have two countries.
Brought mon chien Peanut with me to work today and the first thing I did was walk with Peanut, my office-mate Jeff and his beautiful daughter Grace to the coffee shop down the street. I have to go through re-entry carefully (like a space shuttle) so it seemed a good idea to begin my day with a trip to the local cafe. Jeff brought his cat to his office because they're trying to sell their home, so between the dog on my side of the office and a cat on his, we have the animal kingdom covered. The joy of being self-employed! There's been more than one time that I've thought of going back into the corporate life, only to remember I can't bring my dog and dismissed the idea summarily.
The trip back was great--John, my client, bless his heart, upgraded my ticket to business class. It's a whole new world for this business traveler. I needed an in-service just to figure out how the chair, which reclines into an almost-bed, and the individual TV worked. A kind gentleman, Jon, was my seat mate and because his work causes him to travel extensively, he was my tutor throughout the flight. Between the attentiveness of the flight attendants and the copious amounts of food (I passed up most of the unlimited offers of champagne and wine, having consumed more than enough on my travels), it became clear to me that business class is the only way to go. I kept thinking of the line from an old song, "How you gonna keep 'em down on the farm, now that they've seen Paree?"
Due to aforementioned allergy attack, I didn't have the opportunity to post my last blog from Paris at the Sofitel, where our meetings went well and I got to know the sales team. My presentation was Wednesday morning and the team was generous in participating in the interactive portion... I asked each of them to think back to early memories of when they knew they were good at selling.
Every one of them had a great story to tell, from featuring eggs in a county fair-like competition and winning (didn't have a chicken so he went out and bought the eggs) to setting up a home business as early as six years old. One gentleman set up a team of friends whom he sent out to do chores, and he collected the money a la Tom Sawyer (can you say "override"?) The group proved not only that they were gifted from an early age but that necessity is often the mother of invention--and, more importantly, innovation. It will take me a while to get the sound of the lilting French, Irish, English, Scottish and Dutch accents from my head.
It was with sorrow that I left beautiful Paris and in going through my e-mail, came across a quotation cited by a woman who has an ex-patriate blog of her own... she quoted Ben Franklin, who was known to say, "Everyone has two countries; the one in which he was born, and France.” Now I, too, have two countries.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Later that evening...
I’m in the transition between the vacation portion and the work phase. My colleagues from the States are not yet here, so I ate dinner by myself in the restaurant, reading a book and chatting with the wait staff. Everyone is so kind about letting me stumble my way through a sentence, correcting me gently but cheering me on with their eyes. It’s true that if you try to speak the language, it’s appreciated.
Worked on my presentation tonight, taking into account the recommendations of my local advisor, Sophie Mottin. Sophie is a saleswoman with the company, based in Orleans, and she was kind enough to give me an overview of the team + some suggestions about my PowerPoint presentation. I made some changes and tried to see the words and phrases through the eyes of someone who isn’t American. For instance, I took out references to the Boy Scout motto and high school, although I know there are European equivalents of both. I think being here these past few days has helped me see where I made cultural assumptions (I knew the Boy Scout reference wouldn’t fly when I wrote it but also thought it would work for the North American sales force, which it did).
I keep having flashbacks of all the people I saw on the Metro this past week. Diane and I both observed the flair with which people (especially the women, but men, too) dress. Even the littlest child is dressed with a certain “je ne sais quoi”—casual ease, seemingly careless but it comes together like high fashion. The little girls wear jewelry and carry handbags. Women dress in layers and everyone, it seems, even the men, wear scarves artfully wrapped around their necks. The young girls, jeunes filles, are wearing brightly colored tops that look like dresses worn over black leggings. Most everyone is thin and a lot of people smoke.
One thing I noticed is that people rarely talk on their cell phones, especially when they’re sitting with other people. They enjoy each other’s company, facing the street in the cafes so they’re sitting side by side, which is what Diane and I learned to do. That allows you to watch people as they go by while talking and drinking and eating. Such a civilized country! In Chicago three out of four people are walking down the street talking on their cell phones, and it isn't unusual to see someone take a call while sitting across from someone at lunch. Now I know why Hemingway and the gang adopted this country as their own.
On Friday we climbed to the first level of the Eiffel Tower... Diane thought the sign that said “escalier” mean escalator, but it means "stairs." I should have known. At the second level, after catching my breath, we took photos, admired the view of Paris and stopped into the restaurant to see if we could have dinner, but apparently they are booked weeks in advance—mostly, it seemed, with large tours. We sat at the bar and had a glass of wine and when I asked the gentleman bartender in my tortured French what Kir is, he gave us a complimentary drink of Kir and champagne. What a treat! It tasted almost like a Pom-tini. I love zee French.
Then we got more tickets and waited forever for the ride to the next level--the view from the top was magnificent. When we came down, we took the boat cruise and watched the light show on the Eiffel Tower from the Seine. We had to wait until nearly after 10:00 for the sky to get dark enough to enjoy the lights, and so by the time we took the Metro home, it actually closed on us while we were making our last connection! We walked the rest of the way home.
Other kindnesses: on the first day when we came from the airport via the Metro, I was struggling on the stairs (more stairs!) with my two suitcases, and two gentlemen stopped to help me. Diane laughed to turn around and see me come up with stairs without my bags, followed by two men carrying one bag each. She told me later that one of the men held up two fingers with a look of disbelief and said “Two.” Yes, I packed two bags, too much and next time will find a way to stuff everything, including my laptop, into one carry-on. Diane only brought one suitcase and managed to cram in an amazing amount of stuff. But, did I mention, I love zee French?
In fact, I almost missed her at the airport because I waited for her in the baggage claim area. Our flights were less than an hour apart and I watched everyone from Miami come and go. When I approached the man from the airline, who had told me the flight was coming in, he thought I lost a bag. “Non,” I said, “mon amie!” I lost my friend! He looked her up in the computer and said she hadn’t checked any baggage, so I wandered out into the terminal and called her on her cell phone. We found each other within minutes and had our first of many café stops in the airport.
We had a television in our room which we didn’t even turn on until the last night we were there, and what should come on but a French-dubbed episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent. My addiction for Law & Order follows me to France. Right now I’m watching CNN, channel surfing between the one English-speaking channel (two, really, including Bloomberg which has limited entertainment value) and the movies which I can discern the plots of based on my limited vocabulaire and the acting. Last night I couldn’t sleep so I watched a Clint Eastwood movie that had dubbed French subtitles. A good way to learn French, according to the waiter at the Bistro Amelot, next door to our hotel, Les Jardins de Marais. My eternal gratitude to Bev and Bob Jones from church who recommended our hotel.
Worked on my presentation tonight, taking into account the recommendations of my local advisor, Sophie Mottin. Sophie is a saleswoman with the company, based in Orleans, and she was kind enough to give me an overview of the team + some suggestions about my PowerPoint presentation. I made some changes and tried to see the words and phrases through the eyes of someone who isn’t American. For instance, I took out references to the Boy Scout motto and high school, although I know there are European equivalents of both. I think being here these past few days has helped me see where I made cultural assumptions (I knew the Boy Scout reference wouldn’t fly when I wrote it but also thought it would work for the North American sales force, which it did).
I keep having flashbacks of all the people I saw on the Metro this past week. Diane and I both observed the flair with which people (especially the women, but men, too) dress. Even the littlest child is dressed with a certain “je ne sais quoi”—casual ease, seemingly careless but it comes together like high fashion. The little girls wear jewelry and carry handbags. Women dress in layers and everyone, it seems, even the men, wear scarves artfully wrapped around their necks. The young girls, jeunes filles, are wearing brightly colored tops that look like dresses worn over black leggings. Most everyone is thin and a lot of people smoke.
One thing I noticed is that people rarely talk on their cell phones, especially when they’re sitting with other people. They enjoy each other’s company, facing the street in the cafes so they’re sitting side by side, which is what Diane and I learned to do. That allows you to watch people as they go by while talking and drinking and eating. Such a civilized country! In Chicago three out of four people are walking down the street talking on their cell phones, and it isn't unusual to see someone take a call while sitting across from someone at lunch. Now I know why Hemingway and the gang adopted this country as their own.
On Friday we climbed to the first level of the Eiffel Tower... Diane thought the sign that said “escalier” mean escalator, but it means "stairs." I should have known. At the second level, after catching my breath, we took photos, admired the view of Paris and stopped into the restaurant to see if we could have dinner, but apparently they are booked weeks in advance—mostly, it seemed, with large tours. We sat at the bar and had a glass of wine and when I asked the gentleman bartender in my tortured French what Kir is, he gave us a complimentary drink of Kir and champagne. What a treat! It tasted almost like a Pom-tini. I love zee French.
Then we got more tickets and waited forever for the ride to the next level--the view from the top was magnificent. When we came down, we took the boat cruise and watched the light show on the Eiffel Tower from the Seine. We had to wait until nearly after 10:00 for the sky to get dark enough to enjoy the lights, and so by the time we took the Metro home, it actually closed on us while we were making our last connection! We walked the rest of the way home.
Other kindnesses: on the first day when we came from the airport via the Metro, I was struggling on the stairs (more stairs!) with my two suitcases, and two gentlemen stopped to help me. Diane laughed to turn around and see me come up with stairs without my bags, followed by two men carrying one bag each. She told me later that one of the men held up two fingers with a look of disbelief and said “Two.” Yes, I packed two bags, too much and next time will find a way to stuff everything, including my laptop, into one carry-on. Diane only brought one suitcase and managed to cram in an amazing amount of stuff. But, did I mention, I love zee French?
In fact, I almost missed her at the airport because I waited for her in the baggage claim area. Our flights were less than an hour apart and I watched everyone from Miami come and go. When I approached the man from the airline, who had told me the flight was coming in, he thought I lost a bag. “Non,” I said, “mon amie!” I lost my friend! He looked her up in the computer and said she hadn’t checked any baggage, so I wandered out into the terminal and called her on her cell phone. We found each other within minutes and had our first of many café stops in the airport.
We had a television in our room which we didn’t even turn on until the last night we were there, and what should come on but a French-dubbed episode of Law & Order: Criminal Intent. My addiction for Law & Order follows me to France. Right now I’m watching CNN, channel surfing between the one English-speaking channel (two, really, including Bloomberg which has limited entertainment value) and the movies which I can discern the plots of based on my limited vocabulaire and the acting. Last night I couldn’t sleep so I watched a Clint Eastwood movie that had dubbed French subtitles. A good way to learn French, according to the waiter at the Bistro Amelot, next door to our hotel, Les Jardins de Marais. My eternal gratitude to Bev and Bob Jones from church who recommended our hotel.
Paris Journey, Parte Deux
The first phase of my journey here in Paris is complete, and Parte Deux begins. I said goodbye to my friend Diane at the airport this morning (kissing on both cheeks as is the custom) and then checked into the nearby Sofitel Hotel where we are having our sales training meetings this week. I expect John and Kristen will be in any moment if they aren't already here.
My original intention with this blog was to enter comments each night as my trip unfolded but, alas, that was not to be. The Internet connection at the first hotel was only available for WiFi, and I needed a cable connection... that's when I ventured forth to the business center (see previous entry) and encountered my first international business adventure--a French keyboard! I'm now hooked up via my own laptop but shall make this short, as I've been catching up on e-mail and am not sure what the end result will be in terms of local phone charges.
Just a few highlights from Parte Une:
--Diane and I hit as many cafes as we could and did our level best to boost the local economy which, thanks to the exchange rate, isn't in need of much boosting. We hit the ground running on Day One and went directly to Notre Dame cathedral in Isle de la Cite (sorry I can't add those wonderful accent marks via this keyboard). We averaged three destinations per day and got in as much coffee (me) and diet Coke (her) as we could consume along with delectable pastries and ample meals.
--As fascinating as the sights are the people! For the most part we were welcomed enthusiastically and I was able to practice my feeble French, although I said to Diane more than once that I wildly overestimated my ability to communicate and was beyond humbled. I seem to have forgotten all my verbs. (And all that Spanish I learned in between got in the way.) But people-watching from a sidewalk cafe, in the Metro, walking down the street, was the most enjoyable of all sports.
--Of course the usual sights, Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the bridges, the Louvre, the Musee d'Orsay, the Musee d'Orangerie, were all amazing. We saw the Mona Lisa, Winged Victory, Venus de Milo, murals of Monet's waterlilies and other priceless, famous pieces of art, so much it made my head spin. It's hard to look at Whistler's Mother and not see her on one of those commercials on TV that brought her to life.
--The food! From the bread to the meats and desserts, we had so much wonderful food that I'm not sure all the walking truly did compensate for the input. But the chocolate tartette I had on the second day (or was that the first?) was as close to heaven as one can get.
--We went to church Sunday at Notre Dame cathedral and attended the Mass which was, of course, said in French. The majesty of the cathedral is impossible to describe, and I thought of our organist at home, Bill Crosbie, as I listened to the organ reverberate through the nave. There were many faithful in attendance, participating in the service while the hum of tourists continued in a circle around us. The Affirmation of Faith, while said in another language, was comforting and familiar.
I'm off to connect with John and make some revisions to tomorrow's presentation. I feel blessed beyond measure to be here and thrilled to be accessible by e-mail again. There may be a Blackberry in my future after all.
My original intention with this blog was to enter comments each night as my trip unfolded but, alas, that was not to be. The Internet connection at the first hotel was only available for WiFi, and I needed a cable connection... that's when I ventured forth to the business center (see previous entry) and encountered my first international business adventure--a French keyboard! I'm now hooked up via my own laptop but shall make this short, as I've been catching up on e-mail and am not sure what the end result will be in terms of local phone charges.
Just a few highlights from Parte Une:
--Diane and I hit as many cafes as we could and did our level best to boost the local economy which, thanks to the exchange rate, isn't in need of much boosting. We hit the ground running on Day One and went directly to Notre Dame cathedral in Isle de la Cite (sorry I can't add those wonderful accent marks via this keyboard). We averaged three destinations per day and got in as much coffee (me) and diet Coke (her) as we could consume along with delectable pastries and ample meals.
--As fascinating as the sights are the people! For the most part we were welcomed enthusiastically and I was able to practice my feeble French, although I said to Diane more than once that I wildly overestimated my ability to communicate and was beyond humbled. I seem to have forgotten all my verbs. (And all that Spanish I learned in between got in the way.) But people-watching from a sidewalk cafe, in the Metro, walking down the street, was the most enjoyable of all sports.
--Of course the usual sights, Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the bridges, the Louvre, the Musee d'Orsay, the Musee d'Orangerie, were all amazing. We saw the Mona Lisa, Winged Victory, Venus de Milo, murals of Monet's waterlilies and other priceless, famous pieces of art, so much it made my head spin. It's hard to look at Whistler's Mother and not see her on one of those commercials on TV that brought her to life.
--The food! From the bread to the meats and desserts, we had so much wonderful food that I'm not sure all the walking truly did compensate for the input. But the chocolate tartette I had on the second day (or was that the first?) was as close to heaven as one can get.
--We went to church Sunday at Notre Dame cathedral and attended the Mass which was, of course, said in French. The majesty of the cathedral is impossible to describe, and I thought of our organist at home, Bill Crosbie, as I listened to the organ reverberate through the nave. There were many faithful in attendance, participating in the service while the hum of tourists continued in a circle around us. The Affirmation of Faith, while said in another language, was comforting and familiar.
I'm off to connect with John and make some revisions to tomorrow's presentation. I feel blessed beyond measure to be here and thrilled to be accessible by e-mail again. There may be a Blackberry in my future after all.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Je suis ici!
We arrived in Paris on Wednesday and I am just now getting to enter this, my first blog entry from abroad... and it will be very short because this keyboard at my hotel is in French and the keys are not in the same places! And that's a really big deal when the "a" is in the wrong place because there are a lot of "a's" in English. Also, the comma isn't where it's supposed to be.
Ah. well. that's the beauty of international travel. Teaches us to be flexible.
France is, of course, incroyable... that is to say, incredible. Today we visited the Sacré-Coeur and I lit a candle for my friend Sheryl in her memory. Diane loved Montmartre where we walked the cobblestone streets along with a thousand other tourists, enjoyed the sunshine on the steps of Sacré-Coeur, ate ice cream in what was possibly the best ice cream shop in the world and had a glass of wine in an outside cafe, sitting admiringly across from the store where we had just bought a bag full of souvenirs. Then we ventured on to the Arc de Triomphe by Metro, having just bought a 2-day pass (we learned our lesson last night after having to sweet-talk our way into the station since we had no change and our credit cards wouldn't work). Got off two stops past the Charles de Gaulle stop where we should have gotten off and backtracked a bit, coming up the stairs to be knocked out by the view of both the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower, which we visited yesterday.
So tonight we had dinner in a restaurant on the Champs-Elysées, a lovely repast of pasta and mostly people-watching. The people are amazing! Beautiful people--polite, genteel, patient with someone like me who brushed off her college French and can't resist using it. The waiter tonight took our photo and made sure he got the Champs-Elysées in the picture, too. In watching all the people, the women in particular, I vowed to Diane that when I come back home, I promise to take more fashion risks.
Ah. well. that's the beauty of international travel. Teaches us to be flexible.
France is, of course, incroyable... that is to say, incredible. Today we visited the Sacré-Coeur and I lit a candle for my friend Sheryl in her memory. Diane loved Montmartre where we walked the cobblestone streets along with a thousand other tourists, enjoyed the sunshine on the steps of Sacré-Coeur, ate ice cream in what was possibly the best ice cream shop in the world and had a glass of wine in an outside cafe, sitting admiringly across from the store where we had just bought a bag full of souvenirs. Then we ventured on to the Arc de Triomphe by Metro, having just bought a 2-day pass (we learned our lesson last night after having to sweet-talk our way into the station since we had no change and our credit cards wouldn't work). Got off two stops past the Charles de Gaulle stop where we should have gotten off and backtracked a bit, coming up the stairs to be knocked out by the view of both the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower, which we visited yesterday.
So tonight we had dinner in a restaurant on the Champs-Elysées, a lovely repast of pasta and mostly people-watching. The people are amazing! Beautiful people--polite, genteel, patient with someone like me who brushed off her college French and can't resist using it. The waiter tonight took our photo and made sure he got the Champs-Elysées in the picture, too. In watching all the people, the women in particular, I vowed to Diane that when I come back home, I promise to take more fashion risks.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Dateline: Paris
Dateline Paris, 9:17 a.m., Thursday, May 31, 2007—Je suis ici. J’arrive. I think that means, I’ve arrived. I’m actually only as far as the baggage claim at the Charles de Gaulle Airport, called Roissy, but Paris it is, so I’m officially declaring my mission accomplished. Going through customs was a breeze, although there was a very funny que to go through, zigging and zagging our way to the kiosks where the customs agents were awaiting us, unimpressed and giving new meaning to the word blasé.
Now I’m waiting for Diane to arrive from Miami. In the meantime, I’m reading the huge signs for the Cannes Film Festival (sponsored by L’Oreal because, no doubt, they’re worth it), the perfume billboards and listening to the rapid-fire French dialogues around me. Far from the language lab of 1977… from my college French textbook conversations that I can still recite verbatim (“La neige est belle aujourd hui; si on allez faire du ski?” Translation: “The snow is beautiful today… would you like to go skiing?”) A lovely couple from the plane smiled as they passed me with their luggage and said, “Have a good trip,” to which I replied, “You, too,” then belatedly, sensing something in them that hinted at more savoir faire than the typical American, “Or do you live here?” The woman smiled and nodded, Yes. “Je suis jalouse,” I countered. Haven’t even gotten out of the airport and already I’m jealous of any American who gets to live here.
The plane ride was uneventful, surprisingly like every other plane ride only, of course, longer. Read one of my Paris guide books from the library called “The Irreverent Guide to Paris.” It’s very funny, wickedly written and I can’t wait to use it when we plot our next few days. Watched two movies: “Miss Potter” with Renee Zellweger and “Dirty Dancing.” Oy vey, that was a throwback. Hard to believe it was such a hit with such a corny script, but it was fun to watch them dance and to marvel at Patrick Swayze’s muscles rippling.
I sat next to a gentleman from Beirut who lives in Australia… he struck up a short conversation and I learned he’s in Paris to visit his niece. He was very, em, ripe and I caught a whiff of him from time to time. After reading a book in Arabic, he put the regulation airplane blanket over his head and fell asleep, spilling over into my seat with his elbow. Even a gentle nudge didn’t move him. I finally got up and walked around a bit, checked in with the flight attendant to see if she knew anything about Di’s flight from Miami which was delayed, and by the time I got back to my seat, he had shifted. I don’t know why but I was very surprised when he strapped on a clerical collar upon landing. Would I have thought of him differently if I knew he was a priest?
There’s a café upstairs but if I exit, I can’t get back in, so I’m waiting instead. I could go for a strong cup of coffee right now… it’s 2:35 a.m. Chicago time, and now I’m getting used to looking at my dual-dial watch in its respective time zones from the other side of the Atlantic. I think of my boys, asleep, Peanut munching contentedly on one of my quilts, no doubt. I know they’ll be fine without me but I worry that they won’t talk to each other, won’t buy any food except bread and milk, won’t survive unless I’m there to keep their world spinning. Silly, really. They’re both grown men. And Bill—how did he get by for 31 years without me?
Now I’m waiting for Diane to arrive from Miami. In the meantime, I’m reading the huge signs for the Cannes Film Festival (sponsored by L’Oreal because, no doubt, they’re worth it), the perfume billboards and listening to the rapid-fire French dialogues around me. Far from the language lab of 1977… from my college French textbook conversations that I can still recite verbatim (“La neige est belle aujourd hui; si on allez faire du ski?” Translation: “The snow is beautiful today… would you like to go skiing?”) A lovely couple from the plane smiled as they passed me with their luggage and said, “Have a good trip,” to which I replied, “You, too,” then belatedly, sensing something in them that hinted at more savoir faire than the typical American, “Or do you live here?” The woman smiled and nodded, Yes. “Je suis jalouse,” I countered. Haven’t even gotten out of the airport and already I’m jealous of any American who gets to live here.
The plane ride was uneventful, surprisingly like every other plane ride only, of course, longer. Read one of my Paris guide books from the library called “The Irreverent Guide to Paris.” It’s very funny, wickedly written and I can’t wait to use it when we plot our next few days. Watched two movies: “Miss Potter” with Renee Zellweger and “Dirty Dancing.” Oy vey, that was a throwback. Hard to believe it was such a hit with such a corny script, but it was fun to watch them dance and to marvel at Patrick Swayze’s muscles rippling.
I sat next to a gentleman from Beirut who lives in Australia… he struck up a short conversation and I learned he’s in Paris to visit his niece. He was very, em, ripe and I caught a whiff of him from time to time. After reading a book in Arabic, he put the regulation airplane blanket over his head and fell asleep, spilling over into my seat with his elbow. Even a gentle nudge didn’t move him. I finally got up and walked around a bit, checked in with the flight attendant to see if she knew anything about Di’s flight from Miami which was delayed, and by the time I got back to my seat, he had shifted. I don’t know why but I was very surprised when he strapped on a clerical collar upon landing. Would I have thought of him differently if I knew he was a priest?
There’s a café upstairs but if I exit, I can’t get back in, so I’m waiting instead. I could go for a strong cup of coffee right now… it’s 2:35 a.m. Chicago time, and now I’m getting used to looking at my dual-dial watch in its respective time zones from the other side of the Atlantic. I think of my boys, asleep, Peanut munching contentedly on one of my quilts, no doubt. I know they’ll be fine without me but I worry that they won’t talk to each other, won’t buy any food except bread and milk, won’t survive unless I’m there to keep their world spinning. Silly, really. They’re both grown men. And Bill—how did he get by for 31 years without me?
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
11:29 a.m. on D-Day
One last small load of laundry to do and then I'm nearly ready for Bob, my friend and driver, to pick me up and take me to the airport. Still have to run over to the office to pack up some stuff... yikes! But I do have my trusty list, which I kept at my bedside last night in case I remembered anything more for the list (which I did) and I've made some headway. Connected with Kitty, my daughter, who lives in the city with her Big White Dog Jake--I didn't want to leave the country without getting a chance to say good-bye to her, too. Said goodbye to the boys this morning and Peanut's in good hands with Mikey the dog-sitter this week. Tried to check in with the airlines online but I guess they don't do that for international flights.
Celebrated with my friend Lesley and her husband Joe Eddy last night, toasting not only my trip but also our FitChicks team, of which Lesley is the team leader. We are raising money for the Relay for Life for the American Cancer Society and we've already exceeded our team goal. So I was drinking a Pom-tini when I should have been packing (I needed the anti-oxidants). We do an all-night relay at Glenbard South High School the day after I get home.
Off to finish my check-list. Bon voyage!
Celebrated with my friend Lesley and her husband Joe Eddy last night, toasting not only my trip but also our FitChicks team, of which Lesley is the team leader. We are raising money for the Relay for Life for the American Cancer Society and we've already exceeded our team goal. So I was drinking a Pom-tini when I should have been packing (I needed the anti-oxidants). We do an all-night relay at Glenbard South High School the day after I get home.
Off to finish my check-list. Bon voyage!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Tomorrow--Paris!
Last night to celebrate our anniversary, Bill and I saw the movie "Paris: Je T'Aime," meaning, "Paris, I Love You." The movie is made up of little vignettes of life in Paris, directed by different people (everyone from the Coen brothers to Wes Craven) and starring dozens of recognizable stars, including Juliette Binoche, Gena Rowlands and Elijah Wood. The real star of the movie was Paris itself, and I was thrilled to recognize some of the landmarks I've been studying in preparation for my trip.
Today will be a "city" day seeing clients in Chicago so I have to dash off to get ready... lots to do in preparation for tomorrow. I don't leave until mid-afternoon but it will sneak up on me, I know. A bit anxious about leaving my boys (husband and son) and the Peanut (dog) but mostly excited.
Today will be a "city" day seeing clients in Chicago so I have to dash off to get ready... lots to do in preparation for tomorrow. I don't leave until mid-afternoon but it will sneak up on me, I know. A bit anxious about leaving my boys (husband and son) and the Peanut (dog) but mostly excited.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Four Days and Counting
Here goes... launching my own blog at the urging of friends and colleagues who assure me of its ease of use as well as its utility as a communications tool for someone like me, building a worldwide coaching practice. Not to mention the "hip" factor...
Four days and counting before I leave for Paris, France, realizing a life-long dream and also getting some work done there to boot. Client and long-time friend John Kenney (fellow Thunderbird), who is now an accomplished global supply chain architect, invited me to develop a sales training program with him and we're rolling it out to the global sales staff. First stop was Austin, TX, and now we're off to Paris where I wisely added five days upfront so I can see the city with another fellow T-bird, good friend Diane, who was game for a girls' jaunt to Paris. What a clever girl she is!
The thing about a blog is that, for someone who has been writing in journals and diaries all her life, it seems arrogant to assume that anyone would want to read mine. [And why, pray tell, is it cool to blog yet uncool to send out a family Christmas letter?] But blog I shall, and I'm committed to documenting every juicy detail of my trip to France and later, to Hong Kong where we'll be presenting to the Asian sales team later this summer. The only real challenge will be to keep this short--I used to get paid by the word. Thank you, Sue Tripp, of Dreamcatcher Websites (www.dreamcatcherwebsites.com), for helping me launch!
Four days and counting before I leave for Paris, France, realizing a life-long dream and also getting some work done there to boot. Client and long-time friend John Kenney (fellow Thunderbird), who is now an accomplished global supply chain architect, invited me to develop a sales training program with him and we're rolling it out to the global sales staff. First stop was Austin, TX, and now we're off to Paris where I wisely added five days upfront so I can see the city with another fellow T-bird, good friend Diane, who was game for a girls' jaunt to Paris. What a clever girl she is!
The thing about a blog is that, for someone who has been writing in journals and diaries all her life, it seems arrogant to assume that anyone would want to read mine. [And why, pray tell, is it cool to blog yet uncool to send out a family Christmas letter?] But blog I shall, and I'm committed to documenting every juicy detail of my trip to France and later, to Hong Kong where we'll be presenting to the Asian sales team later this summer. The only real challenge will be to keep this short--I used to get paid by the word. Thank you, Sue Tripp, of Dreamcatcher Websites (www.dreamcatcherwebsites.com), for helping me launch!
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