I wasn't certain how to get all of this down, because I often write small things I want to post on my
blog in my Palm, and then forget about them until such time as they are no longer relevant.
I actually have quite a few from this trip, so let me consult my Palm and see what they are:
I think I noted earlier that the Paris metro system was on strike when I was trying to leave Paris a week
ago. What I did not note was the kid I saw in Charles de Gualle airport while waiting to depart to the UK.
There was one of those kids where everyone knows his name - oliver - because his mother has been yelling it
pretty much the entire time spent waiting. He was full of energy, and clearly his mother was simply not
able to compete.
An amusing side note: I hadn't been sure if it was a system-wide strike, so I asked at the airport, and the
guy (a worker at a coffee bar) apologized. I felt bad, as though I'd done something wrong by being caught by
the strike and then asking about it. Oh well.
Another thing from my time at home - I saw on TV a model from Estonia, age 25, by the name of Carmen Cass (or
something like that - I'm not sure how to spell it). She was talking on a late, late night talk show (the one
reserved for oddities like, well, models from Estonia. The reason I found her interesting is because she may
run to be Estonia's representative to the European parliment. A very interesting career change, and also interesting
because I think it is in some ways representative of (some) European countries' political system, where just about
anyone can find themselves a national representative. Which I think is just marvellous.
The flight across the Atlantic was one of the most unpleasant I've ever had, in terms of sheer fright factor.
The captain actually came on the speaker to tell us that, although it was certainly bumpy, there was no danger
to the plane itself, so everyone should relax. At this point we had had several minutes of bumpy and
I had a very firm grip on the arm of my seat. Unlike usual flights, this turbulence was at all levels
and as such we couldn't manouver out of it, we simply had to ride it out. Very unnerving. However, the
beginning and the end of the flight were quite comfortable.
I had Erik pick me up the third Matrix movie, part of which I watched in Detroit's airport while waiting for the plane
to board. Security in Detroit was so tight as to be stupid, and yet at the same time amazingly sloppy. For example,
I was asked to remove my laptop from my backpack and run it through separately, but never asked to actually turn it on.
I quite nearly had to disrobe, taking off coat, scarf, and shoes. And then, when we went to board the plane there was yet
another security checkpoint, with a guy who felt around my bag but didn't really look in it seriously enough to have
any chance of finding something, were there something to be found. That said, however, I'm sure there is some degree
of security involved in stopping people that many times before they board the plane - presumably they will look nervous
or something, which will be spotted by the crack security teams working in Detroit.
I completely failed to sleep on the flight again, despite the fact that I put some effort into doing so, since I knew
that by the time I arrived in Paris I would be completely useless to the point of death, not having slept in nearly 24
hours, and already being in something of a sleep deficit situation.
People I saw this trip: Martha O'Kennon, Erik Eid, Lisa Dugdale, My Parents, Ryan Lewis, Issa Beatty, Zach Constan,
My Aunt Jo and Uncle Tom, Tammy, George, and the kids, Mike and Sandie Johnston, Fin and Misty, Jas and Weeze,
Katie Johnson, my Sister and family, and several others I'm sure I've forgotten.
This was supposed to be my laid-back trip, where I didn't fill every moment with visits. It didn't work out that
way, but overall I'm fine with that. I wish I had slept more, though. I am currently planning to get home,
literally drop my things on the floor, and fall into bed until Sasha comes home. If things go as hoped this will
give me a two hour nap before she arrives.
I suspect returning to work tomorrow will be an exercise in futility. If I don't score some major sleepage before
tomorrow morning, I'm afraid I will simply sleep on my desk, which, while not precisely frowned upon, is certainly
less productive than the alternative.
There was supposed to be any number of things accomplished in addition to seeing poeple - in all my copious spare
time I had planned to write a few programs to help me run the website, reply to all the outstanding email I have,
and in general get so much done it would leave everyone's head spinning. While I did manage to update certain
sections a little, by and large the projects I had been planning to work on were a wash.
While in the airport in London, I did a variety of time-killing tasks, since I had six hours to burn. I bought a cup
of coffee (of course) and a muffin, read the Guardian cover to cover, experimented
with my wireless network card (despite sitting directly opposite a sign which informed me there were hotspots, my card
could find none of them), and wrote all of this. I just realized that my clock is one hour ahead of London time, which
means that I have at least 2 more hours before the plane even boards, forget taking off.
:: David (5:27 in Michigan, 10:27 in London, 11:27 in Paris)
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