It’s my second night in the City of Lights and my feet are aching. I wrote pages and pages of entries while on the plane on the way here, and rather than pick up my story in the middle, I am going to do some catching up and try to enter the log I did by hand.
Paris has been all it’s been touted to be and more.. just be patient with my journal..
Written on the plane to Paris, 23 Feb 2005
I bought a calendar of French Impressionism which I am using as a journal for this special trip. I picked it up more than a week ago when I saw it on the sidewalk on the way to work. Mind you, the lady selling it on the McDonald’s across Queens Mall on Queens Plaza was rather particular about my not touching it because as she had insisted, the diary was brand new.
$6 — not bad. I forked out the cash. I figured it would serve me well in this 4-day trip to Paris. I could scribble down my posts and then put them on my weblog belatedly.
I have no idea what time it is. The crew just served dinner and we will probably be shutting out the lights soon. I’m actually feeling very sleepy because I woke up just after 5AM so I could spend time with Angel before I left the house. While he would usually wake me up, this time I roused him gently and after stretching and letting out a yawn, he gave me a smile. And as I’ve been doing every morning since he came into my life, I gave him his morning hug and told him I loved him — the first of several times I would let him know throughout the day. He was ina cheerful mood so it wasn’t heartbreaking to leave him. I started missing him the moment I walked out of the courtyard — to think I was only going to be away a total of 4 nights.
While Paris IS Paris, I cannot bear to be away from my little guy too long. Maybe when he’s a little bigger — Alan and I can plan on a longer vacation. We had promised ourselves we would continue to go out on our little honeymoons, even after we had a baby, continuing to do things together as a couple.
I miss Alan, too. I haven’t seen him in a week and a half. By the time he and I fly back to New York, he would’ve been gone 2 weeks. I’m sure Angel will be overjoyed to see him.
I feel tired after rushing through getting my work at the office done before I took these 2 days off. I will go take a pitstop and get some shut eye. I have a full row of 3 seets to stretch out on. [Oops! Long line at the lavatory.] It never fails.. just as I decide to go to the lavatory, half the plane does, too. I can wait — there are so many things I want to write down.
Right now I wish I could take my make up off and give my face a change to breathe. [Plane is experiencing some turbulence.. uh-oh..] The problem is, my wipes are in my suitcase up in the overhead compartment. It is rather heavy and I only managed to heave it up there because the elderly gentleman seated in the row behind me was so kind to offer to lift it up. I am thinking I will try to do it with the mini tub of petroleum jelly I have in my bag. Hmmmm…I don’t think that would hurt. It would certainly help me to sleep better when I stretch out. I will get to France just around 8AM. There was a long queu of airplanes taking off from JFK, and soon as everyone was seated and ready for the big take off, the pilot announced we were number 20 among the planes in line to take off. (And I thought the traffic at that time of the day would only be at the LIE!) When the lavatory line cleared up, I picked up my petroleum jelly, headed for the john, put a thin coat on my face and wiped the goo off.. Bigh sigh of relief.. it worked. (The petroleum jelly actually proved to be a great moisturizer.)
Waking up some time as the crew is about to serve breakfast
I meant to bring my watch but I must’ve left it behind. I groped for the other fancy watch Alan gifted me with but which had a dirty strap I meant to replace, but it apparently needs a battery change.. I cannot open my cellphone because of the usual restriction while in flight, so I don’t have any idea what time it is.
My back and my boobies were actually what woke me up. Lying down was torture on my bad back, and when I shifted to lying in the opposite direction and venturing on lying flat on my back even, the discomfort I felt with my engorgement was so bad I found myself completely awake. [Lesson learned: Don’t forget to pump befor leaving on a long haul flight, more so if the flight is at the end of the day. I imagine it wouldn’t have been so bad if I had left at the beginning of the day.] I seem to have underestimated my milk production, although I suspect the excitement about Paris is the reason for my lapse.
Breakfast is being served: I’m getting a croissant — oh, so French — a cup of OJ, some strawberry/banana yoghurt and a bag of raisins. [oops! I have completely forgotten about the raisins! I actually stashed that in my purse as a free snack while touring Paris..]. I am so thirsty I am actually keeping my fingers crossed they will give me diet coke.. nah, looks like it’s a choice of coffee, tea, or more OJ. Let’s go with OJ then.. Let me grab a quick bite.