7:54 AM: Blinks
Ok, I think I'm feeling better today. Shit storm appears to have blown itself out. Slept for 10 hours (although still at weird time: asleep by 8, awake by 6). Staying sane, methinks. Still a little hypersensitive (that might be understating it, actually), but not quite so moody.
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Friday, May 24, 2002
7:28 PM: To Phillip Copland of West Yorkshire
Thank you so much. You should have seen how they wrapped it. Heh. Very funny. I'll sleep much better tonight.
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11:12 AM: Aujour'dui, c'est tout dificil.
For fucksake, could I feel like any more of a shitstorm? I hate everything!
That is all.
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6:32 AM:
Tempest
This jetlag has turned me into a thrower of tantrums (and other things). Last night, as I sat bleary-eyed trying to fold laundry at 7:30pm, I suddenly realized I was very very tired. This was brought on by overwhelming irritation over the fact that my cell phone is still somewhere between Los Angeles and Seattle, thanks to Andreas leaving it there (along with his wallet, his cell phone charger, and other crucial items). Since Dre and I don't have a landline, my cell being gone and his being pooped out is definitely pretty bad news.
Perhaps noticing the frightening look on my face, my zookeeper -- excuse me, my boyfriend -- asked what was wrong.
"I'm jet-lagged," I whined.
"Anything I can get you?" he asked.
"MY PHONE!" Again, tiara thrown to the floor.
"Anything else?" he asked, staying calm as the eye of a hurricane must.
"Pet my head?" I whined, and crawled into bed. Reaching to turn off the light, my hand bumped a metal travel tea cup that's been sitting on the bedside for a day or two. Suddenly, that tea cup was really really bothering me. So I threw it across the room. (This may sound familiar to long-time readers.)
At that, even the mighty lion tamer Andreas grew a little trepidations, and scurried away.
"Come back!" I howled/whined.
Then he used the famous jedi-mind trick on me, and I fell asleep. I'm not quite sure how he does it, but it involves using his index finger to stroke my forehead, going from the bridge of my nose up to my hairline in a straight line. Right over the third eye. Knocks me out every time. Soothes the savage jet-lagged beast within. He escaped the tempest unscathed.
This morning I slept until 6am (applause, please), and am feeling much better. Andreas seems to be none the worse for the wear, and I'm being very appreciative that someone knows how to deal with his little princess when she gets foul-tempered.
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Thursday, May 23, 2002
5:37 PM:
+/-
Whee: Starting June 1st, I will have health AND dental insurance! This is very exciting. I may only have it for a month, but you can be it'll bet a western-med intensive month. First visit to the dentist in FOUR YEARS!
Aww: Due to an accounting miscommunication between the paper and my agent, as of now, I have a permanent $2/hr pay cut.
Whee: Dre and I got our new (used) truck!
Aww: I'm still jet-lagged.
Whee: It's sunny outside! I sat and read up on the roof, soaking up the vitamin D for an hour and a half. Nice.
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5:21 AM:
Recovery
I managed to sleep in until 4:30 this morning. Isn't that fantastic? When I went downstairs to start a load of laundry, I found that A) someone else was already doing two loads (Kim, preparing for DEMF?) and that B) my landlord had posted a note saying "Any laundry left over night will be put in the dumpster." Jesus. How about you threaten us some more? Gads.
Granted, I'm a little hypersensitive these days. My jetlag has made me a semi-weepy short fuse, and I spent most of yesterday clinging to Andreas in a way most unsuited to an independent "I wear the pants in the family" sort of girl. Something about him moving to Los Angeles (without me) in a month is freaking me out right now. He somehow managed to deal with my leaving for NYC last summer gracefully and supportively. Me? I hang off his arm like a dingleberry, whining about how lonely I'll be. Somebody needs to learn how to be a big girl.
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Wednesday, May 22, 2002
3:34 PM:
Slideshow Ready
France slideshow up and running!
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10:51 AM:
Happy
Before I left for France, I kept insisting that I would be in to work a 10 hour day at the paper today. My boss kept looking at me dubiously and saying "Oh really?" On my last day before leaving, she told me that she'd booked the temp who was sitting in for me through the end of today, and that if I was jetlagged, I should just call.
This morning, at 6am after a rousing mutual welcome home party with Andreas (*cough*), I decided that she was probably right. I sent her an email conceding defeat and went back to bed. When I woke up a few minutes ago, my boss had written back a very sweet email saying no problem, the office has missed me, and is looking forward to having me back tomorrow. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I like my boss. A lot.
I also like my boyfriend. A lot. In a very different way.
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4:24 AM:
Welcome To My Jetlag Part II: The Second Coming
Asleep at 8pm, up by 3:30am. I guess I've got to start somewhere!
It's so good to be home. I think that, for a homebody like me, a sizable chunk of the joy of travelling is coming home and revelling in the familiar environmental skin. Ahh: Madison Market right next door. Ahh: my mail in its box. Ahh: the rats bruxing with delight. Ahh: my houseplants, a little dry, but no worse for the wear.
Ahhhhh. Home. [And Andreas made it back at exactly 4:30am. Super ahhh....]
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Tuesday, May 21, 2002
6:28 PM:
6:25pm in Seattle (3:25am in Paris? buh?)
I'm home. Exhausted and missing one piece of luggage, but home.
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Monday, May 20, 2002
1:32 PM:
10:30pm in Paris
I'm getting ready to head home: bags are packed, alarms are set, and I'm doing the best I can with logistica upon my arrival in Seattle. (Note to self: next time do not assume boyfriend will be home from his travels on time. Keep housekeys and cell phone with you. Even if you're travelling out of the country.)
Please allow me a moment of indulgent self-pity, and let me say that I'm agitatedly unhappy to be heading back to an empty home. A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle, and DAMN IT, this fish needs to go pedaling! I miss my boyfriend, and his return from GoTT in Los Angeles (where's he's had adventures of his own...if he had a blog, I'm sure you'd all be titillated) is out of his hands. Maybe he'll be back Wednesday? Even he doesn't know, since he's at the mercy of someone else's car. Sniffle. I've been known to be a bit of a princess at times, and I want that pea in my bed! Shit. Commence with stamping of feet and pouting of royal lip. Bang scepter on floor. Whine in the third person.
If you want to read a great account of Tia and my weekend in Bandol, she's taken the time to write it out. I haven't. Throw tiara on floor.
Thank God for Jane and Kim in Seattle, or else We would be much more pouty...unable to get home from the airport or into Our Royal apartment. Pea or no pea, We're looking forward to Our own lumpy futon.
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12:13 AM:
9:05am in Paris
I refuse to spend my last day in Paris on the puter (I've already wasted 2 hours doing exactly that!) so I'll just say that photos of Marseille are over here, including the funny houseparty we went to in costumes Saturday night, lots of the beach, many of my birthday dinner at Valere's.
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