Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Disaster for Abe!



As per usual, Abe is not in France. He's in Scotland -- I think. It seems to me that he then


ends up in Holland some time today before making his way to Madrid tomorrow. The nice thing for me is that it apparently makes more sense for him to come back to Paris for the night before


zooming off to Spain. There is a piece of me, however, that has some suspicion that he is returning to Paris to TAKE MY COMPUTER AWAY! You see yesterday he forgot his computer (it is one of those new really tiny computers bigger than a book but not by much!) in the seat pocket of the seat in front of him. He's probably used to the fact that the computer now weighs next to nothing and therefore his lightweight computer bag didn't jog his memory. Everything on his computer has a code to activate it but there is always the worry of identity theft if the computer is sold to some hacker. Who knows.... we may not even need to sell out house when we return to Texas, some stranger may actually do it for us. Anyway, all joking aside losing a computer is huge for Abe. It is literally his third arm. In Telluride he works with two networking together to get through his day's work. Luckily he is not one of those people who never backs anything up. Everything will be fine if and when he comes up with a new computer to use --and I know mine has all his contacts installed in it so that is why I am fearful. Love the guy but.....gee.....do without my computer, can't be done. I'm afraid. Well, it might have to be done but it won't be easy. Withdrawal is painful so I've heard.




After my best yoga day last week I had one of my crappiest today. Gerald turned into Gary. Gary has this habit of wandering around the class and quietly groaning ..unh unh...to himself. You just KNOW he's looking at you and that he is absolutely unimpressed with whatever it is you think you are trying to do. Today, I heard tsk tsk tsk...Kathryn!.....everything felt fine to me...next I heard...look at your foot, look at the way it is not straight...and your knee....pull your knee back to be more in line with your ankle, you are going to hurt yourself. For some reason every time he spoke to me I felt he was talking REALLY FREAKING LOUDLY but I could never hear what he was saying when he corrected someone else. In fact, I'm not sure he ever did correct anyone else. However, you are in the class so what are you going to do? Leave? I know he's there tohelp and he's so darn nice...but ....gee Gerald, talk a little more quietly, please.




I sent a little email to my friend Pat yesterday and she got a kick out of my Hebrew lessons so I thought I should share a bit with you. We leave in less than a month and Abe decided we needed Rosetta Stone. I prefer learning with a real person rather than a computer (not addicted to Rosetta yet) but I couldn't find anyone in the Jewish community of Telluride who spoke Hebrew so had to resort to the computer. All was going well...I know man, woman, boy, girl, boys, girls, water, dog, cat, run, read and swim and horse. I figure those should come in really handy. I can go to the beach and say "boy swim water", see a horse and say "horse run"...but Rosetta forgets that last time I never saw a horse in Israel. I saw a camel....I need "horse with bumps runs" but they aren't teaching me that. What is really frustrating about Hebrew is they have a phlegmy sound to lots of words -- I can do that in Dutch so it isn't too bad. However, Rosetta won't let you move on to the next picture unless you get your phlegm down properly and you can talk with phlegm for half an hour but Rosetta will not beep happily and flash a green light at you unless it is convinced you are phlegming properly. This can get very frustrating. I'm only in Lesson One part 4 (after several weeks....I'm a bit lazy)....and suddenly they started showing me a picture and asking me to match it up to the correct WORD!. Now let's let a grip Rosetta, I have absolutely zero interest in reading or writing Hebrew. However, when you skip over something suddenly you don't do so well in the next section. It is always giving you your score -- 78 WRONG, 22 correct. I can see Lesson 2 involves getting directions....this could actually be useful. Oh well, at least I can get an apple if I want one -- oh right....apples don't grow in Israel either. Abe said he was going to work on this too...hmmph. Haven't seen or heard one word, except to point things out that he already knew or corret me. I KNEW IT.....he's been lieing all these years, he DOES KNOW FREAKING HEBREW!




I stopped by a lovely wine store today to buy a wine thata our friends from Strassburg recommended. The name came to me in the night. It sounds wonderful -- it is a rose with a slight bubble to it and great with Italian food. It is called Lombrusco. I explained to the gentleman behind the counter what I wanted and asked if I could get some. He gave me a really


pitiful look as if he felt sorry for me. Madame, he said.....that is Italian not French. Yeah, sure. Ok. But I want to get some. But Madame...he said, shaking his head mournfully I am not Italian I am French. You must find an Italian wine seller. Right......now how the hell am I going to do that?




To anyone who is French, I apologise. Do the French never smile? You can chuckle at their baby, smile at their sweet little dog and they look at your like you are insane. We North Americans are smilers. Smiling gets you in trouble in Costa Rica....smile at a strange man and suddenly he is following you all over the store and out on the street because surely you meant something, heh heh heh with your sonrisa!.....in France....smile, and they look at you like you are a total bitch. Smiling is for friends you idiot, not for strangers. I don't even know why they have a word for it here, they never use it. I feel a smile startinag to cross my lips and suddenly I develop rigor mortis and try to stop it so I don't look like a fool. Also....if you see a Frenchman coming down the sidewalk or you HEAR him coming behind you get the hell out of the way. He/she is not moving...YOU ARE. The other day I swear I bearly got out of the way of a man barreling along behind me with a baby stroller (luckily I heard the wheels). I am convinced he would have steamrolled right over top of me and not looked back. Abe laughed because he had been thinking the same thing.




Dog poop -- poop and scoop does not exist. It is better here than it used to be but scooping -- absolutely no way. I laughed my head off at a street cleaner the other day AFTER he went by me. He had his broom, his uniform identifying him as a street cleaner and both of us saw a huge pile of dog poop right in the middle of the sidewalk. I looked at it, he looked at it, and then he walked straight on. There are big pictures of dogs and arrows pointing to the curb drawn on some of the sidewalks, meaning curb your dog....well the dog poop ain't going to any curb as far as I can see. It's staying right there. It's a form of dodge ball. However, I remember it being much much worse say 15 years ago so something is happening I'm just not sure what? less dogs?




If you come to France you must go to a butcher shop and buy a freshly roasting chicken and the potatoes that are cooking in the drippings. Oh my God, good. It is probably not good for you to eat the potatoes that have cooked in the drippings of hundreds of chickens but the flavour is to die for. Plus their chickens have flavour and meat on them. Delicious. Buying a chicken and some potatoes and eating in a park or in your hotel room is so worth it...skip a restaurant and just dig in, rip that baby apart and just go for it. A pastry is a nice accompaniement.




Anyway, got to run. Off to find someone who can cover up my skunk streak of grey. It is a little frightening going to get your hair coloured in a strange city. they have different ideas of what looks good, or is chic, or appropriate. I don't want blonde. I don't want large chunks of high lights. I don't want to pay a fortune! Hopefully I can find someone who can do it for me tomorrow before Benj arrives so I don't look like his OLD mother...I look likehis old mother with coloured roots!




If you don't hear from me for a while you will know it is because Abe came back on the pretext of seeing me ONLY TO STEAL MY COMPUTER.




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