tops
I really wanted to go 3 for 3, but alas. I have a lot more "India" to get off my chest, so there's more to come. Today, however, I leave for an overnight bus ride to get to a friend's family mango farm. I'll be there all day Saturday and then take the bus back, arriving Sunday morning - hopefully, in perfect time for a gorgeous cooked breakfast at Mocha.
In the interim, check out the City Gritty. They've stepped it up this year and added a handy google map version. I've got big plans for their winners...there's a best hot dog award this year! Two weeks, kittens...just twoooooo weeks.
http://bestof.citypages.com/
I like fish and mango pickle (not really, it was gross).
Between my junior and senior year at college, I worked in Seattle for a summer. My team at work went out for lunch once every week or two, together. It was nice, but we ALWAYS went out for either Indian or Thai food. Now, I never turn down some satay and pad thai. But I seem to recall voicing some frustration about the frequency of our Indian restaurant visits. I still get a bit of gentle ribbing about it, especially before I left for this trip. Now, it wasn't the food itself that I was less than taken with. It was more that every Indian restaurant was a buffet, and the buffet dishes were never labeled. I never had any idea what I was eating, and while I'll try almost anything, I need to know what it is first. I like surprise parties; I don't like surprise mouth feels. I think I know why all those Indian restaurants in Seattle were like that - because all the Indian restaurants and cafeterias in India are like that.
At WorkFirst of all, we get free lunch here. Whaaaaat? Where's my free lunch, Minneapolis Office? Who am I kidding - I'm not eating it here, I probably wouldn't eat it at home either. A few weeks after I started here, I started getting stains on my teeth. Now, I have excellent dental hygene. The staff at the dentist's office loves me. I'm drinking less coffee (no Starbucks here) and less tea (it's a very thick, milky concoction here - I like good ol Earl Grey), so I know that's not it. The only conclusion I could make is that there's some spice in the food that is making my teeth dark. So I stopped eating the free lunch, and started bringing my own. I eat with my team just about every day, and they are amazed when I bring two cups of stir fried vegetables and eat it with a scoop of rice. What's amazing about it is that it actually looks like vegetables. Most of the Indian food I've seen is a soupy dish, usually called "gravy" - a less than appetizing appellation - which comes in many vibrant colors. All the food at work is vegetarian, so it sllegedly has some kind of vegetable content and perhaps cheese curd, which is not cheese curd at all. It's like little bricks of...something dairy based? but looks like tofu. I avoid it. I found out a few weeks ago how they achieve this when one of the expats had an Indian cooking lesson and made us dinner - they boil the vegetables and then mash them up with a potato masher. Some of you who don't like vegetables (or so you think) may recall me saying it's all in how you've come to expect them - it depends on how they've been prepared. Well, let me tell you how right I am. So count your lucky stars, domestic veggie-haters - you're livin' large with your blanched green beans. Livin' large. I am developing a bit of sympathy for those of you who don't like garlic, because I don't like cilantro, and cilantro is in every single dish here. ALL of them. Of course, when I bring my veggie stirfry, everyone on the team wants to try some - it's so novel! Kajari picks out zucchini pieces and says "I LOVE these little ones." Niraj took a red bell pepper and said "It doesn't TASTE like ANYTHING." Well, actually, it tastes like ITS OWN SELF.
At homePam has hired a chef. He comes 4 nights a week, and cooks somewhere else, so we just get gladwares of food every night. He doesn't really have the same facial features, but he seems to remind everyone of the Oompa Loompas from Tim Burton's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. He makes Asian food, so sometimes it's Indianesque, and sometimes it noodles with sweet and sour chicken (murgh!). It's alright, I just never feel like eating very much of it.
Grocery shoppingGrocery shopping is a sport. At home, I live behind the neighborhood organic co-op, which includes gorgeous produce, and a lovely ready made deli. In India, we routinely will go to 3 grocery stores in one expedition to track down everything we need.
Things I've seen that have surprised me:All Pringle flavors
Tropicana OJ
Peanut butter (Skippy and Peter Pan brands)
Jam (in Bonne Maman raspberry - my fav at home!)
Krusteaz Pancake Mix
Betty Crocker mixes, all kinds
Dairy Milk (I was told chocolate didn't really exist in India, at all)
hot dogs in a can (a very tall can, at that)
Kraft Mac n Cheese
mango pickle
Things you really cannot find:pinto beans
tortilla chips
spaghettios
peppermint tea
milk (as we know it)
RestaurantsThere are actually quite a few really great restaurants here. It doesn't hurt that we're including the five star hotel restaurants in the mix. I've eaten: The best pad thai ever (sorry, even better than the one I had in Thailand), "The All-American Beef Cheeseburger" at The Only Place (as in the only place in town to get a burger), some really good all veg Italian, and a few actual green salads. This last weekend we stopped by a restaurant that runs a market twice a month - omg. They had chorizo. and creme anglaise. basically, meats, cheeses, wines, and pastries from all the places I LOVE. Then we stopped at an interesting outdoor cafe called Mocha. All the light shades were head CT films, and they played mostly music from the late 80s/early 90s - R.E.M., Nirvana, etc. It was SWEET. And it was all painted in bright primaries. We'll for sure be going back for the all day breakfast including...PANCAKES.
The ocean breeze will serve us right
I'm sorry. I suck. You all deserve better! I know, less self-deprecating, more blog writing.
First, some administrative announcements. You may have heard that I am/was sick, and have now experienced the Indian health care system. It's true. I'm fine. Actually fine, not just stoic fine. I have all my meds and am on a solid road to recovery. I don't want to spoil anything else, since I will (I promise) write about it. Today's entry, however, is meant to be a stress reliever and less whiny than that story most certainly will be. I'm only just getting past the whiny stage. Not becoming on a lady, I am sure - not that it stops me. Also, there has been some question about the working out - Andrew, I will write you a proper email soon. For anyone else who cares, the apartment I'm at now has a decent little workout room, with an elliptical that tips you forward, a bike that gets up to mediocre resistance only, and a very decent treadmill. So, I've been running - in order to distract myself from the fact that I HATE running, I'm doing intervals. I'm working up to doing a pace of 5k in 30 minutes, but staying on to run for more time (ideally 45, but running for even 40 will be a freakin miracle). The weight machine is...unlike anything I've ever seen, and for the most part, I just don't get it. Between the freeweights, the cable machine, and the bands, I'm able to hit everything. Before the sickness, I was going to the gym about 3-4 days a week - depending on things like traffic, expat functions, conference call schedules, power failures, and mosquito swarms in the gym.
Ok! On to some fun travel tales.
A few weeks ago, Pam and I went to Goa. Goa is the state just northwest of Karnateka which is where Bangalore is. It was held by the Portuguese until 19...6...1. I think. 1961. We pretty much came for the beaches - and accepted the fact that there would be plenty of tourists there as well. Now, there are NO. tourists in Bangalore. I am literally the only white person around most of the time. I get stares. The tourists at Goa are mostly European and Australian. I'm sure the Indians think it's nuts, since pale skin is considered fashionable there, and tan skin is considered fashionable for the whiteys. The melanin is always a better shade on the other continent, I guess. Now, most Minnesotans know that you have to start with the 45 SPF and work your way down after having a parka between your skin and the sun's rays for the last 5 months. This concept is apparently lost on a whole lot of Europeans. There was a lot of pink and red going on. So much that just when Pam and I thought we wouldn't be the only white people to stare at for a few days - oh wait, we are the only actually white people here. How sad, to spend all that money to fly to India for a sunny holiday, and then get crispy. (and I DO mean CRISPY).
We flew to Goa (natch) on Kingfisher Airlines. Kingfisher is The Beer Company here, and the flight attendant uniforms are the most un-Indian thing I've ever seen. They are completely fire engine red, either flared pants (like the ones Express used to sell maybe 5-7 years ago, ladies you know the kind I'm talking about) or miniskirts with smart cropped jackets. Not exactly the conservative, no skirts above knee length no bare shoulders type dress code ingrained in MY head before coming here. Anyway, it was a very nice airline. They gave out pens, ear phones, and teeny tiny bottles of water to everyone. Everyone received a printed menu to select your veg or non-veg option for lunch. which came with a mango nectar juice box. The food was very decent, as far as I can tell - I still can't identify anything I eat here, although if it's chicken, I will proudly declare "Murgh!" every time. I think Pam is getting sick of that. Before landing, they gave all the kids on the flight a nice puzzle of a plane, and offered us feedback cards to fill out. From the airport, it was an hour by car to our hotel on the beach, most of which I spent on a last minute conference call, trying desperately to NOT sound like I was on the Bumpiest Car Ride Ever (making it v. hard to sound dignified and professional - or to even follow the conversation).
Our hotel was adorable. Really, it had a great corporate identity going on! It was a Lemontree hotel, and some of the amenities had cute sayings on them: "smile! freshen up! get out of a tangle! (on a comb), smooth! (on a razor)" etc. Our room was very sweet and included a tiny bottle of complimentary wine from the region - which we didn't drink. India has many fine locally produced goods, but wine is not one of them. We went down to dinner and had our first encounter with Ron - Republic of Noodles, the restaurant in the hotel. It was so, so delicious that we ate there every night - after sitting on the beach all day. Super, super lazy. Of course, the waiters loved us because we were there all the time, and caught on very quickly and started asking us to fill out feedback forms frequently. At our last dinner, one of the more senior waiters informed us we HAD to try the Alfonso mango sorbet, since they served it to Bill Clinton when he came to Goa. Well, obviously we had to try it. It was pretty good, but IMHO chocolate beats mango every time. He also informed us they will be opening a RON in Bangalore in August! So party time for all the expats; cheap, delicious, pan Asian food with kitschy cocktails is comin' your way.
We spent EVERY. day at the beach. And it was heaven. It was only a 5 minute walk away to the shore - of the Arabian Sea. I thought that was pretty cool. I didn't think about which body of water we were near until we were IN it. I never thought I'd be in the Arabian Sea! I didn't feel any creepy critters, which is normally my number one concern about oceans - how can you be sure that whatever just ran over your foot didn't have 8 legs? At one point when we were wading out, Pam commented on the undercurrent, to which I replied, ok neither of us can get taken out to sea - Boss Lady would be SO. MAD. I'm not sure which would be worse - the one who got taken out to sea, or the one who had to explain it. Shudder. Anyway, we were VERY careful and stayed quite close to shore. Mostly we just lied around on the beach. Pam was going for total brain atrophy. I did some of that - listening to Kylie on my new little iPod shuffle and rotating like a rotisserie chicken every 30 minutes for even browning - but I also read "A New Earth" (yes, the Oprah book), did some crossword puzzles, and studied French grammar. I know, I'm a mega dork - but I love it.
We did a few other things - a walking tour of Panaji, the capital of Goa, for one. One influence the Portuguese apparently had (and bless them for it!) was getting some street signs up in the city. This does not exist hardly anywhere in Bangalore, but on at least some of the streets of Panaji, they had European style street name plaques built into the buildings on the street corners. This was very helpful in getting us through our walking tour, but not completely. We followed a nice looking young (French?) man who I saw, same guidebook in hand, stop in somewhere and ask for directions. I really wanted to go introduce ourselves, but he bailed on the tour after the first site we stalked him to. Too bad - I would have bought him a nice Kingfisher for unknowingly doing our dirty work! Anyway, the city was nice, much calmer than Bangalore. We saw churches, temples, and the archbishop's mansion...which had an enormous silver Jesus out front. What? The Church making ostentatious displays of wealth in the midst of extremely poor conditions, people, or times? That's so weird and out of character...huh.
We also took time out of our busy bum schedule to get pedicures and hang out at the swim up bar at the hotel. We had a nice towel sculpture on our bed ever day from our "Room Boy", sometimes accompanied by a small poem. (If it wasn't already...a late hour...I'd get the pictures up for you! TBAdded later.) The sculptures were further adorned with fresh flowers and petals. Awesome. We also rented Casablanca, which I'm happy to now cross off my list. I was a little overwhelmed, especially at the end - it seemed like it was a steady mental stream of "OH! THAT"S where that saying/line is from!!!" It was, in it's own right, a very good movie, and I'm sorry to say I had no idea that Morocco was a gateway for emigrants from Europe during WWII. So, educational as well - bonus. We also saw part of a VERY funny looking British movie with Maggie Smith called Keeping Mum. I'll have to Netflix that one. We also made it out (one night) for some very authentic - at least, not Indian tasting - Italian! Yum yum.
The absolute BEST. story of the weekend was on our last beach day. Now, there are animals all over the place in India - on our street, there are 4 cows, many dogs, sometimes goats, and in the morning I hear chickens. So it was no surprise to see plenty of dogs on the beach. The smart ones would come and sit under our chairs in the shade. It wasn't until the last day that we saw cows on the beach. They were pretty far inland, not near the water at all. There was an Australian couple next to us, and a cow came right up to them, and stuck her head in between their chairs. No one realized it at first, so we got a few pictures of oblivious, and then amused Australians. We all had a nice chuckle, and then went back to zoning out. Well then the cow cam up to Pam and stood right by her and stared. Pam stared back and won the contest. So, naturally, the cow came to stare at me. I have a cat, so I am awesome at staring contests. That is, until my opponent sticks her head in my handbag. Yes, that's right, the cow started rooting around in my hand bag. Now I'd like to take this moment to remind you that to many people in India, cows are sacred, so you can't really do anything to them. Maybe not in Goa, where there are a lot more Christians, but still, I do not want to start an international cow incident. Really, no one wants that. So, I was kind of at a loss of what was within my rights to do with this cow, so I started to try and wrestle my hand bag back. I'm pretty sure I feebly protested "it's MINE!" to the cow, too. A few local boys came over, one with a raised handkerchief and one with a raised shoe (the latter must have been a Christian) when the cow finally dislodged her head from my bag. She had part of a tiny banana (stolen from breakfast for a nice healthy beach snack) and part of my SKIRT in her mouth. So then I had to have some tug of war with a cow to get my skirt back. Which I did get back - covered in banana-scented cow saliva. I obviously pitched the two mini bananas as far inland as my anti projectile sports arm could muster.
That's it for now, my forearms are getting fatigued and it is way past my bedtime. Stay tuned for more Indian Idiosyncrasies! We'll cover such exciting topics as: Food (restaurants, groceries, work cafeterias, cuisine in general), Transportation (traffic as a pedestrian, traffic as a passenger, commuting, sidewalks, street crossing), Clubbing (at what could be properly identified as a club), Communication (language, idioms, body language, humor, verbal contracts, "I know what you're thinking") You can consider everything in parenthesis like Jeopardy! categories.
Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto
Apparently, my inbox needs to synch for 10 minutes, so I have time for a quick update! I know all my fans are very disappointed in how few entries I've written. Sorry. They ARE paying me to WORK, not write blogs. If any of you have connections where I can write blogs for travelling all day, let me know, and I'll change careers post-haste.
The first week was all presenting, and the second week was all catching up on emails - seriously. I'm finally getting my feet back under me. I moved in with Pam this weekend - she has a 3 bedroom apartment with a sweet pool, gym, etc. It's VERY convenient having someone around who already KNOWS where things are, what to do, etc. Also, the expats are super fun - we had a little party last week, and everyone is so sweet! Pam and I have 3 vacations planned: this weekend, we go to Goa, which was held by the Portuguese until 1961 (I think?) and is mostly beaches and churches. I have to say, I'm looking forward to a little Europeness. Google has been showing me ads for Air France's direct flight from Bangalore to Paris - they are so sneaky! I priced it out, and sadly it is around $800 - I can get cheaper fares from Minneapolis. Otherwise, I would totally sneak away for a weekend! But back to the vacations that will actually happen. In a few weeks, we are going to take a 10 hour bus ride to...a mango farm. This guy who we used to work with (Kumar G, for those of you who might know) has invited us to his "native place" (aka hometown) to see his family's mango farm. I'm really excited about this - it'll be a very cool "slice of life" that is more like real India to me than going to the Taj Mahal (which I'm sure is also very nice). Finally, a week before I come home, we are going to Singapore for a weekend of shopping, Starbucks, clean streets, shopping, Mexican food, and western breakfasts (either buffets or egg mcmuffins). Singapore has been on my Asia list (or the closest thing I have to an Asia list - I also think Japan would be neat to visit) if for no other reason than it just seems almost unbelieveable to have a city akin to NYC, completely devoid of dirt, crime, or any of the unpleasantness that normally comes attached to a metropolis. I think it's kinda of a "believe it when I see it" type of thing.
Ok, now for a really great India story. It occured to Molly and I that we really wanted to see what "going out" meant in India. This is not something that two single white girls can do alone here, so we got Jagdish from work to come with us. This outing spiralled into a team event - everyone wanted to come to "the disc" (as in discotheque - just like in French!) on Friday night. So, the women on the team arranged for baby sitters, everyone piled into four wheelers and two wheelers, and we went out. First, we planned to meet at this place called Geoffrey's - which was a nice British restaurant in a hotel. I thought I was in the twilight zone when I got there, since no one else was there yet (or still?) Of course, I didn't have a cell phone yet, so there was some frantic-ish calling around for a few minutes, until I got picked up in one of the cars. Then we regrouped in front of a KFC on the main drag in Bangalore to figure out our next destination. Molly, I should add, was at this point being carted around on the back of Niraj's motorcycle. She got some great video footage of another two wheeler getting so fed up with traffic that he started driving on the sidewalk. Eventually, since the roads were so busy, and since night clubs close at 11:30pm, we decided to go somewhere close - and we went to a place called Styx.
Styx as in the band. It had a big neon guitar out front. It was a metal bar. They had TVs hanging from the ceiling showing metal videos - we knew we had arrived when we saw Dude Looks Like A Lady. They also played such artists as Metallica and Gwar. So we ordered a bunch of beers and kicked back, all of us looking equally out of place but for very different reasons. There were flat screen TVs against the opposite wall from us, playing some kind of media DVD with the sound turned off. Wouldn't you know - that screen played BOTH of the most recent Kylie Minogue Videos - which, naturally, I love. The irony was absolutely deafening. Kylie is the DEFINITION of dance club music. Your booty will shake itself with no help from you. The best part of the night, however, was when they played System of a Down's Chop Suey. We (Molly and I) started singing along as loudly as possible with all the other metal heads. The crowning moment was when the power went out, and in true India fashion, nobody missed a beat and just kept on singin'. That moment really just sums it up.
Ok, only people who sign or otherwise identify themselves get to complain about updating. Booya. Unless I can tell who you are. I actually am working, more than I thought. There's really only time for dinner when I get home and then bed. Also, my photo gallery stopped working, and I really wanted to post pictures, so I was kind of delaying this entry until I could do that, but I'll just cave and post words now, and pics later.
Saturday we went to Mysore for the day. Pam picked us all up and we drove out (about 2 hours). I've been on many a roadtrip in the upper midwest, to Texas, to Ohio, etc. But never have I actually appreciated "watching the scenery." I could probably write a whole entry on this, but no use in using up all the material now. I will say that most of the time we were checking out the fashions, since Denise was destined to buy some silk and have some things made. My other favorite thing was: We noticed and commented on how the women in sarees were riding on the backs of motorcycles side saddle and magically staying on without holding on. Sometimes, they had a baby or two as well. Then, while commenting on one such woman in a very pretty lavender saree, our driver, Prakash noted that they were newlyweds. We asked him how he could tell, and he said "because she's holding on to him. After a while, she'll lean on the bike more than him."
At Mysore, we first went to a...Catholic church. St. Philomena's. It was kind of what you'd expect of a church in India - looks like your typical church, but not paid too much attention. Not in a bad way at all, just not the main draw. There was a statue of a Virgin Mary in a saree inside, though. I would love to show you a picture, but alas, not allowed inside.
After the church, we went silk shopping. That was the most intense shopping I've ever done. The people who work n the shop just kept bringing out silks to look at, unfolding them more quickly than you can even process what you just saw. It was actually stressful, which shopping should never be!
Then we went to
Chamundi Temple. This is the "patron" (if I can call it that?) deity of Mysore. It was a cool temple, very small. Prakash made an offering and we each got a smudge or red something on our foreheads for it. When we left the temple, we each got a marigold head. Which we obviously fed to the cows outside the temple, along with a few little bananas.
Then we went on the the
Maharajah's Palace. We had a guide show us around, which was great, since it brought much more meaning to an otherwise "just" pretty building. The whole place burned down on one of the princess's wedding days - worst. wedding. ever. So they rebuilt everything in steel, iron, granite, and marble. While looking at the painting gallery, we were so amazed that the gaze of the figures in the first one followed us as we walked by, that our guide pointed it out in every single once henceforth. Which got very old, very fast. There were several counters to deal with - admission, a camera locker, a place to hold our shoes, and a place to redeem our admission. I'm seeing a common theme here of breaking up work into the smallest units possible to create as many jobs as possible.
abrupt ending and no title cause you are impatient little buggers and I'm going to be late. :)
Take a breath and take the plunge my dear
I made it to India in one piece. The flights were pretty good - I mean as well as 3 flights in a 24 hour window can be. In case you were wondering, any class other than coach is indeed the way to fly to Asia. I'm reading the current Oprah book, not because it's an Oprah book, but because Jayne raves about it so much that I thought I'd check it out. It's called
A New Earth, and I'm sure Amazon describes it better than I will. I was reading this part about how people get upset about their possessions when they let the possessions define them, and once you let go of that, you stop freaking out about possessions. So, I thought, maybe I should go this WHOLE TWO MONTHS without my ipod, and experience what is going on around me more. For a good 20 minutes I thought about how that's what I really should do, and that I really could pull it off, and then I realized, um, and not have music when I workout? Ummmm, no.
There was kind of a scary moment after passport control in Germany. I was in line first, so I went through, and past that doors that are basically the point of no return. I waited for...a while, and Denise & co. did not come through. Then I got yelled at by some flight attendant who though I was trying to get back in. Finally, I figured I'd see them at the gate. I went on to go through security, and when I finally got to the gate, all three of them were sitting there, assuming I had ditched them for a swanky lounge. Apparently they were redirected and told they didn't have to go through passport control. Hmph.
Speaking of Denise & co, let's do a little roll call:
- Denise - on my team at work. She's very...outgoing and boisterous. And funny.
- Joe - Denise's 9 year old son. He brought travel Blokus (score) and pretty much wants to go swimming all the time.
- Molly - Denise's niece, my age. She's going to take care of Joe while we're at work. She works for Andrew Zimmern, who eats weird stuff in other countries. She's very cool, and we actually have a lot in common.
The jet lag hasn't really been that bad, although I did wake up at 5am today. On Friday, we mostly slept and got a little acclimated. We ventured out to a mall near Denise's hotel, and crossed the street a few times. I'm really glad I'd done that in Asia before, cause I think it's pretty scary at first. First of all, there aren't really traffic signals of any kind here. Nor are there crosswalks. So, the cross traffic never ever stops. In order to cross the street, you just slowly start walking out into traffic and make your way across the lanes (if you want to call them lanes - cause they really aren't).
I have to say, I'm disappointed in myself over the packing job that I've done for this trip. I will never pack so far in advance again. I've forgotten: my work badge, my ipod, and the cable for moving pictures from my camera to my computer (so you'll have to wait for pictures). I blew out my converter straightening my hair - I guess you can't use it for over 10 minutes. So now I need to find a transformer. And, since I don't have my ipod, now I have no alarm clock. So I need to get one of those for when I don't just happen to wake up at 5am.
Ok, and I just have to say...I gave out a lot of those little cards, so I'm guessing there's a lot of new readers and a few existing lurkers. I promise I will love love love getting comments - remember, you're reading everything I'm doing, but I won't get to hear much from most of you. And that's hard. Thanks to the people who commented on the last one - love it. That is all.
sometimes i just boggle my own mind
I KNEW some of you would ALREADY be looking for updates, even though that is SO unrealistic. HA! Well, this is for you.
After weeks of craziness (business) at the office, craziness (actual craziness) with getting my visa(s), throwing goodbye parties, researching, etc, I am finally all set to go and at the airport. EXCEPT: I forgot my ipod. This...could suck. A lot. But I do have my laptop, and it has iTunes, and I should be able to plug it in, so I hope it's ok. Also, I realized, I forgot my work badge, because it's in my coat pocket since I was using the attached bus pass this morning. Less than great, but manageable. I realized all this on the park-n-ride bus to the terminal. At the terminal, I found out my bag was 5 lbs overweight, so I took out the many jars of peanut butter someone gave me to bring to people at work. Sorry, PB recipients. Needless to say, it was an unnecessarily stressful 15 minutes. Then, in the security line, there was this little woman with a little yappy dog. She kept talking to it loudly, until people near her would ask about it. She finally gave it some tranquilizers. Then, she was asking me about the announcement they made for Chicago...and I asked which flight to Chicago she was on...sure enough, it was mine. Oh, goody. Hopefully, getting all the bad juju out of the way now will mean an event free trip to come. I just hate it cause forgetting things (like an ipod - I mean, come on!!) and having an over limit bag are just such rookie mistakes. And while I don't fly constantly, I've done it PLENTY of times, and I certainly know better. Ugh. Anyway, my bill at D'amicos (kinda forgot to eat today) was $7.77, so that's good, right?
Don't Cry for Me, Argentina, I'm in a much better mood now. I better go find Denise - I'm sure she's not thrilled that she hasn't seen me at the gate yet.
