Truth in advertising alert. This post is mostly about me.
At the end of 2015, I ran across a really inexpensive place to stay in Paris and decided I couldn’t afford NOT to go. I also reasoned I should go for a long time, since the room was cheap and the airfare was the same no matter how long I stayed. So I went before Christmas to make sure I got to drink a lot of vin chaud at the Christmas villages. I love Christmas. I know it is depressing for a lot of people but I love everything about it. I also love being in Paris. Unfortunately, the Paris bombs happened in November and I didn’t know what to do. I also had problems finding a dog sitter. Right up to the very last-minute I was unsure if I was going to take the flight. My anxiety was through the roof.
At the last-minute things all came together. It was cheaper to take a limo to the airport than to park for that long, and I used a really good company that I hope I can find the next time I need to go. I got to enjoy an adult beverage all the way to the airport and avoided the extremely long hike from long-term parking.
As it turns out, I met a gay guy in the Sky lounge in the new International Airport at Hartsfield. The airport is fantastic by the way. Super easy to navigate in both directions. When I landed in Paris, the guy from the lounge and I crossed paths again at baggage claim. He was taking the train into the city and I decided to go with him. That was when things took a disastrous turn. I should have paid the very high prices for a taxi. Charles De Gaulle is way outside of the city. I normally don’t check a bag, but this was a very long trip and it was winter so bulkier clothes were in order. My bag was the very last bag off the plane. The poor guy had to wait with me for about 20 minutes. I was anxious because I felt badly that he had to wait. Then the train ticket kiosk would not take my credit card. Then we had to go down several flights of stairs with our luggage. The train was filled with people who were kind of shady. When I finally got out at my station I had to carry the luggage up several flights of stairs. When I was almost to the top, a guy coming down saw me sweaty and crying and help me get the bags to the top. I was a mess. I was an even bigger mess when I finally found the hotel. The whole place made me claustrophic and there were several flights of stairs. I cancelled my reservations and left. I then walked forever with the luggage that had been knocked around so much that it was unbalanced, like me, and continued to fall over.
When I finally got to the K+K in the seventh arrondissement where I always stay, I sat down in the lobby and cried while they tried to figure out where to house the crazy lady who was moving in for two weeks. The staff there was fantastic and spoiled me rotten. Another day perhaps I’ll tell you about my NYE date to the gay club. Suffice it to say once I got to my hotel room, which was lovely, I did not want to leave.
One day I did not come out at all and both shifts of staff called to check on me. But most days I went out for lunch and dinner but I didn’t do a lot of the touristy stuff. I still can’t believe I didn’t go to the Louvre. Instead I went to the Rodin Museum and Musee Delacroix two of my favorite smaller, less crowded ones.
I watched a lot of TV. Lots of Christmas movies and British game shows. One show I really liked was called Big Star, Little Star. I spent a lot of time in Paris watching TV and looking out the window just like I do here. Only my window there had PARIS outside.
Finally, I am approaching my point. Phaedra is going to be on the US version of Big Star, Little Star. I’m sure it won’t be as funny as the British version but it might be worth a watch. The show has three minor celebrities (I had no idea who most of them were) and one of their children on the quiz show. The kids are asked questions that could have hysterical answers. The parents have to select the answer their kid gave from three choices. The questions are things like, “What is the most embarrassing thing you have ever seen your mother do?” Or personal questions about their parents that could be embarrassing. The three teams compete and the winner gets a donation to their charity of choice. Clearly, Phaedra’s charity of choice will be one of her
At first I thought Dylan was going to be on the show. Or as I refer to him, “Not Ayden” that would have been really odd. This could actually get interesting. I’m dying to find out what Ayden says about his mother.
I will certainly be tuning in. Alas, it will not be from nice clean hotel room in Paris.