Noteworthy Thursday #9

In honor of the upcoming holiday (Presidents’ Day, obviously), I am posting a special Valentine’s Day edition of Noteworthy Thursday (you didn’t really believe me with that whole Presidents’ Day thing, right?). This is a Valentine I got from Andrew in 2001. Except I didn’t get it in February, I got it in May.

Let me give you some background info. In May of 2001, I had only known Andrew for a month or two. And suffice to say, I was a bit infatuated with him. My heart leapt around whenever I saw him, and I may have sort of followed him around like a lost puppy from time to time. To make matters worse, this was not just a normal crush. No, Andrew and I had actually already gone out on a couple of dates, and Andrew had already ended things with me using the worst breakup line of all time (which I shall not repeat here in order to save the few remaining shreds of his dignity) (love you too, Honey). And still, I liked him sooooooo much.

So when, at the very end of our freshman year when we were all in the process of moving out of the dorm for the summer, he left this note on my dorm room door (stuck up with the little red heart sticker), I was toast. He may as well have left me a dozen roses and hired a barbershop quartet, because I was a smitten kitten. My friends and I analyzed what he wrote: Did he really want me to call him? Did he really want my Valentine’s Day to sing? I tucked that note away, and knowing I was going to keep it, I even wrote on the side in teeny letters when I got it—you can see it if you look closely. I was clearly a bit insane.

I don’t even remember if I called him that summer. I think I was too nervous. Plus, I ended up being too busy experimenting with alcohol and kissing other boys. (I was only 19—who can blame me? Young love is fleeting.) But as you know, we’re now about to celebrate our eighth Valentine’s Day together, and I couldn’t be happier. (awwwwww)

Our Tax Dollars at Work

Last night I was woken up by the sound of our doorbell. It rang three times quickly in succession. I squinted at the clock—it was close to midnight. Who could possibly be ringing the doorbell at midnight? Was Andrew hosting a late-Monday-night party he forgot to tell me about? The doorbell rang again, then again.

I thought it might be stupid kids playing around. But it is February and the stupid kids are all in school, so . . . that couldn't be it. Andrew got up to go check it out. (Isn't he nice like that, answering the door in the middle of the night so my bedhead and I can stay upstairs?)

It turned out to be the police. Incidentally, this is not the first time the police have woken us up in the middle of the night. (I thought I had blogged about that, so I was just going to link to the original story so I wouldn't have to retell it, but apparently I did not blog about it, so no link. I still don't want to tell it—it's a long story—you're just going to have to make something up. Your version will undoubtedly be more exciting than the original.) From my spot at the top of the stairs just around the corner, I couldn't really make out what they were saying, but I could hear an apologetic tone to their voices.

Andrew went outside with them, so I went to our window and peeked through the mini-blinds. I saw Andrew right our trashcan, which had blown over in the wind. Surely the police didn't stop by to tell us our trash had fallen over. Hmmm.

Apparently when Andrew took our trash the trash out, he forgot to shut the garage door. And someone had called the police. I suppose that was a nice thing to do. With the garage door open, our house was pretty much open to the public. (except of course, for the, um, security system, and the cameras, and . . . the guard dogs. yes, of course, the guard dogs. all you criminals out there, take note.)

“We really need to get to know our neighbors,” Andrew grumbled as he got back into bed. Yes, I agree. If a single one of our neighbors had our phone number or, you know, knew our names, maybe they would have just stopped by or called to tell us the door was open instead of CALLING THE POLICE. Sheesh.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

We woke up around 8:30. It was awesome not having to wake up quite so early, especially since one of us (and it wasn’t me) was a little hung over. We decided to share a cab to the airport with Mark and Natalie, even though their flight was an hour earlier than ours. Better to get there with time to spare than to be running late. So we left the hotel at 10:45, and our flight to Paris was supposed to depart at 2:15.

Our taxi driver was fast. Very fast. He hit 170 kilometers an hour. I don’t really know how fast that is, but Mark said that their fastest speed limits were only 110 km/hr. We were zooming in and out of traffic and made it to the airport in record time.

We said our good-byes with Mark and Natalie and promised to keep in touch. I definitely plan to. Nat’s on Facebook, so we’ve got that for sure, and I hope we visit them someday. Hugs all around, then we were off to find our airline. We were at the wrong terminal because we didn’t know where Iberia was, so we had to take a shuttle to the right terminal, which was far from the others. Then, figuring out how to check in was tricky. We couldn’t just go to the counter, we had to use this kiosk, then wait in line to check in our bags. We messed up at the kiosk, too, because I assumed the number of bags to check was per person like it is at home, but it was total for both of us, so we had to wait in line anyway to fix it. It turned out to not be a big deal, but I was glad we had gotten there so early. I don’t like stressful flying.

We had to take another shuttle to our gate, which was also really far away. This airport is huge. When we got to the right area, we still had a ton of time to kill. We found a Starbucks and sat for awhile. Our drinks came in mugs, which was a nice change from American disposable everything.

We boarded our flight on time. It’s different here, how they don’t announce your flight or boarding or anything. And boarding is just a free-for all, with no specific rows called or whatnot. Everyone just lines up and gets on in no particular order. The flight was fine, but no drinks or pretzels or anything was served. You had to pay for every little thing.

When we got to Paris (!!!) our bags came out quickly, which was a relief. I was worried that we’d have some trouble with our luggage, but it seems everything is going to be fine. We looked for a payphone to call our apartment rental company, and we couldn’t figure out how to use the damn phones. They kept saying we had an invalid number. Eventually we went to the information desk to ask for help, and apparently the number I had written down was missing the first digit, a zero. After that, the phone worked and I managed to talk to the rental company and make arrangements for Joel to meet us there. So irritated that T-Mobile lied to us.

We planned to take the train into the city, so we looked for the RER C train, but we couldn’t figure this out, either. I think it was going to cost about 20 euro and maybe we could only take the RER B train? Not sure. After about 45 minutes in the airport, we decided to just suck it up and take a taxi, since we figured it would cost about 30 euro for the taxi—not that much more than the train. We got our taxi and headed toward our apartment. I was able to catch a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, which was very exciting. I’m thrilled to be in this city. Can’t wait to see it all.

The taxi ended up costing 36 euro, so not too bad, and we had to wait a couple minutes on the sidewalk for Joel to show up and let us in. But he was very apologetic about it and super nice. The apartment is awesome. It’s very small, a studio apartment, but it has so much more charm than a hotel would. Joel showed us how to use the washer/dryer, the microwave/oven, the cable, and where everything was. After Joel left, we started a load of laundry, then left to find dinner.
We went to the place right across the street, Café Temple. And it was awesome. They had leopard-print banquettes, old Hollywood, Marilyn Monroe posters and prints everywhere, costumer jewelry and fake cobwebs for décor, this giant witch, and lots of glam. It was so over the top, but warm and inviting. We had red wine and delicious food. I had spinach cannelloni and Andrew had tripe. Tasty bread, café au lait (that was served with a tiny shot of liqueur—maybe cognac). The waitress was super nice and very understanding of our mediocre language skills. I do think we’re doing a great job with language, though. I’m remembering more than I thought I would from my high school and college French classes, and Andrew is trying to learn, too.
After dinner, we walked a couple blocks around the neighborhood and saw Republic Square. The area seems cool, with lots of restaurants. It was very cold out, so we headed back to the apartment, finished the laundry, unfolded our Murphy bed, and went to sleep.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Today was our last full day of the tour. We started out with a tour of the Alhambra. It was cold today—probably around 30 or 35 degrees. Unbelievably, Mark and Natalie were both wearing flip flops and Mark was in a T-shirt. Crazy. I don’t think they knew how long the Alhambra tour was. We arrived there around 9:00am and we were there until about 12:30. I think about an hour into it, they were regretting their shoe decision.
The Alhambra was quite nice. Parts were similar to the palace we toured in Marrakesh, but this palace put that one to shame. This was so much more grand and in so much better shape. This was a royal palace, so it was fantastically decorated and detailed. We also saw gorgeous gardens with amazing views of the city.
There was a tree there that our guide said was original to the grounds, which meant it would be about 500 years old—if it was still alive. It was just a piece of trunk, basically, that was anchored to the wall. It was atrocious, really.

After the tour was over, we left Granada to head back to Madrid, a drive that took about four hours. At our lunch stop, I saw a Mars candy bar and was wondering what it was like. Natalie was amazed that we didn’t have Mars bars and said I had to try it. So I bought one, and it turned out to be a Milky Way. In Australia, Milky Ways are like our 3 Musketeers. Why don’t they have the same names all over the world? This candy bar talk got us talking about Vegemite, which Natalie just loves, which somehow led to talking about peanut butter. They don’t use a lot of peanut butter in Australia, and as a result, they don’t have Reese’s peanut butter cups. In fact, the suggestion of combining peanut butter and chocolate was revolting to Mark, Natalie, and the two Kiwis. I said I’d have to send them some Reese’s and they could try it for themselves.

For miles, we saw nothing but groves of olive trees that stretched beyond the horizon.

When we arrived in Madrid, we were basically at the end of the tour. We still had an overnight, but we wouldn’t necessarily even see Paul, our guide, anymore. We made plans with Mark and Natalie to get some tapas and sangria later. (I was the only one who wanted that, specifically. I think they would have been content to stay in the room again and drink, but I wanted to do something Spanish, dammit.) We thought we’d probably want some wine anyway, so we went to the grocery store and bought a bottle of red and a bottle of white. Wine in the grocery stores is super cheap. We spent less than 4 euro on both bottles. Awesome.

When we met up with our Australian friends, we drank a couple glasses of wine with them before heading out. They had bought brie, garlic toast, and ham-flavored chips, which we devoured. Mark tried to explain the game of cricket to us. Then we went out. We didn’t know where to go exactly, so just wandered. The first bar we went to didn’t have sangria. When I asked for sangria, the bartender didn’t understand what I was asking for. When Mark asked for it, rolling his R, she understood. What a small difference that was to me. So they didn’t have sangria, but we got some drinks anyway. It was a fun bar—they played ’80s music.

After our drinks, we left in search of tapas and sangria again, but no one else seemed interested in this and we didn’t see anyplace that looked promising. So I said forget it, let’s go back and get sangria at the supermarket. So Natalie and I went to the store and Mark and Andrew went back to the hotel. We bought sangria and crackers and cheese, then went to the hotel front desk to ask for ice. They wanted to charge us 4 euro for a bucket of ice, but Natalie convinced them to just give us a couple glasses of ice for free. Excellent.

So we all gathered and drank and ate and listened to our iPods over Natalie’s tiny little speakers and took a lot of pictures and generally enjoyed our last night together. We talked about everything, from preventing terrorism and privacy rights to music and having babies. It feels like we’ve known them forever. I hope we do get to see them again someday.

Noteworthy Thursday #8

Ah, the random thoughts of a thirteen-year-old girl . . .

This note takes me back to 1995. There's nothing that says "friends forever" like the offer of a flannel shirt that just happens to be stashed in a locker.

Now available at a Hallmark Gold Crown store near you...

See these books? They’re the latest Valentine’s Day Gift Books From Hallmark. Not to brag, but, well . . . I wrote them. And edited them. And they turned out really great (if I do say so myself). What I Love About You is an answer-the-questions-and-fill-in-the-blanks book for the one you love (as indicated on the cover). All About You! is an answer-the-questions-and-fill-in-the-blanks book for your superspecial kid (as indicated on the cover).

Go, check them out—purchase them for the person you love the most. You won’t be disappointed and neither will the recipient of the book. Find out where to purchase by clicking here.


And now my shameless plug is over. Thanks.

At least I wasn't carpooling that day.

After work the other day, I left my desk and headed out to the parking lot. I got to my car and pulled on the door handle, and—nothing. My car is supposed to unlock when I pull on the handle, because that is what it does. It has this smart key system, so as long as your key is nearby (in a pocket or bag) the door will unlock. Like magic!

But my door did not unlock. I pulled again. Nothing. Frustrated, I moved my bag closer to the handle and tried again. Still no dice. I unzipped my bag, dug around for the keys, then dug around for the keys some more. When I finally located them in the bottomless pit of my bag, I pressed the unlock button on the key fob.

And I heard the familiar beep-beep of my unlocking car from three cars over.

And? The car I was trying to break into wasn't even the same color as my car.

Friday, December 26, 2008

This morning we got a very early wake-up call at 3:00am. We headed back to Spain today, so we had to leave Rabat at 4:00am in order to make it to the ferry on time. We had about a three-hour drive to Tangiers. I slept on the bus—like everyone else. We got to the ferry with no problems, and after an hour of sitting on the ferry before we actually left the port, we got on our way and made it to Tarifa. This time, the ferry ride was much smoother, not so much rocking and swaying.

Once again, we went through customs. It took awhile for the customs agents to clear us. Apparently this is a popular route for smuggling drugs and people into Europe, so our bus had to be thoroughly searched while we waited out on the curb.

Once through, we drove through Algeciras and along the Puerto del Sol, the Mediterranean coast. It was stunning. We had beautiful views of the sea, and the buildings were lovely as well. It was a gorgeous sunny day, and I wished we could have taken some time to walk along the beach and sit in the sun.

We arrived in Granada, Spain around 3:00pm and had time to walk around the city. It’s lovely here. Everything looks so old in that charming kind of way. This huge cathedral and monastery are just right in the middle of it all. It looks like the city just sprouted up around them. After an hour or so of wandering around, we stopped for coffee at a little tea and coffee shop. We were lucky enough to get a table that was about two feet from a coal-fired heater. It was awesome.
Dinner was at the hotel. We sat with Natalie and Mark and again had a terrific time. We all had two desserts since it is, after all, Boxing Day (even though Mark and Natalie can’t come to an agreement on the origins of the holiday). After dinner we took a bottle of wine back to Mark and Natalie’s room and hung out and drank wine all night. We discussed politics and shared our dating stories. We are consistently surprised how aware others are of American politics. They all know just as much about our presidential election as we do.

I asked Andrew to write part of today’s entry because I was getting sick of writing so much every day, and here is part of what he wrote: “Overall we had a delightful evening in Granada. I’ll miss Natalie and Mark when they’re gone. They’re the real reason you go on tours. It’s nice that you get hotels and meals planned, but it’s the companions you meet that you remember.” And I have to agree.

The Triumphant Return of Noteworthy Thursday: #7

This note is a little different than the previous notes. This is more of a written record of a conversation—you know, for posterity. On the last night of our Spain/Portugal/Morocco tour, we drank some wine. And some beer. And some sangria. And then some more wine. And when Andrew and I got back to our room, we had this conversation. I wrote it down, because it seemed like the thing to do at the time. And I wrote the date and time on it (in 24-hour format, because I am Hip Like That). (The time stamp, BTW, proves just how lame we are when it comes to staying out late.)

Thursday, December 25, 2008

It does not feel like Christmas at all. There is no tree, no presents to open, and none of my mom’s cinnamon rolls. At breakfast, my pastry had a bite taken out of it. Who does that, picks up a pastry from a buffet, takes a bite, then puts it back on the table? Yuck.

Today we drove to Casablanca. We’re back on good highways, so the trip went much faster. We saw field after field of beautiful orange and yellow flowers. Really bright and vivid colors.

Andrew and I loved Casablanca. We hadn’t heard much praise about it, but I think we like visiting cities perhaps. All the buildings were white, which had a very cool effect. As we drove though the neighborhoods with these large homes, it reminded me of Southern California, I think it was something about all the greenery and the type of architecture, maybe. The city was right on the Atlantic, so it had that ocean feel about it. Andrew said it smelled wonderful, like the ocean does, but my cold was keeping me from smelling anything. It just figures—Andrew couldn’t smell the stinky tannery with his cold, and I couldn’t smell the salty ocean. Unfair, I tell you.

Driving through the city we passed a school and saw a bunch of kids in their school uniforms. It was different, knowing that for us, today was a holiday, but for this Muslim country, it was just a day like any other. People were going to work and going about their lives, much the way I’m sure I do on Muslim holidays.

We also saw Rick’s Café. We were told, though, that there are actually several Rick’s Cafes, none of them authentic since the entire movie was filmed in Hollywood, not in Casablanca. Oh well, I still took a picture.
We stopped at this enormous mosque, a fairly new mosque. The minaret was beautiful green and blue. We were able to peek inside this mosque, though the darkness kept us from seeing much. We also visited the city center of Casablanca where we had some free time for lunch. Andrew and I found the most awesome Moroccan fast food place called the Fadi Grill, Chicken Restaurant. They had bright red and yellow décor, with real tablecloths and covered chairs. I had some sort of sandwich that was like chicken nuggets and ham and cheese on a bun, and Andrew ate chawarma in a wrap. Very good. Unlike any Christmas dinner I’ve ever had, but good.
We walked around this pedestrian-only street and did some window-shopping. Since it was Christmas, we decided to get ice cream. Because we couldn’t communicate very well with the worker, we ended up getting a cone instead of a cup, and it had whipped cream on it. I think it was gelato, actually, but who could really tell? It was delicious.
We left Casablanca after being there just a couple of hours and headed toward Rabat, the capital of Morocco. I think I slept the entire drive. In Rabat, we stopped at the royal palace, the king’s residence. Then we drove around and saw bits of the city, like the old medina walls, an old mosque, and a three- or four-hundred-year-old never-finished minaret. We saw the mausoleum of Mohammed 5 (or I think we did. Honestly, I was losing track of what we saw today). There were lots of columns there, just out in the middle of this square. Rabat doesn’t seem very nice. It looks kind of rundown and dirty. But I’m quick to judge, since we haven’t spent much time here or seen very much.
It was getting dark by the time we reached our hotel. Andrew and I took a walk around the block, intending to head to the medina. But when it was dark and we didn’t know where we were going, we reconsidered and went back to the hotel. Since it was Christmas, I called my family to say hello. It turned out that our phones wouldn’t work there (the phones which we just bought specifically so we would have phones to use on this trip, phones we asked T-Mobile repeatedly about whether they would work here and we were assured that yes, they would. Stupid T-Mobile people). I checked with the front desk to see how much international calls cost from the room and found out it was 10dh/minute. Since I only planned to talk for five or ten minutes, I went ahead and called Courtney’s house (my parents went to Pennsylvania for Christmas this year). My BIL Zach answered the phone, so I chatted with him, then talked to my mom, then my dad, then Courtney. Andrew kept signaling for me to wrap it up. I ended up making a 300dirham/30 euro/$45 phone call. Whoops. But it was good to hear everyone’s voices. Sounds like Austin is adorable and they’re having a good holiday.

Our dinner was at the hotel tonight, and it was quite good. We got chocolate mousse, so I was happy. After dinner, we had a glass of wine with Mark and Natalie in their room while watching The Bourne Identity on TV. I didn’t stay long. I’ve still got this cold, and tomorrow is our early early day, where we have to leave the hotel at 4:00am in order to get to the ferry on time, so I wanted to get to bed early.