Well, I have photocoped my Julia Child recipes for Duck a l'Orange and chocolate mousse, and have ziplocked my passport in a baggie, so I guess I am ready to go?
NOT. I am loathe to spend money on buying material objects that I actually need. I always go through this before I travel. Perhaps it is the Eastern European Jewish thriftiness that was lovingly transferred to me in utero ... or my absolute unwillingness to be practical. Spending a shitload of money on good food, well that is another matter entirely. Sexy leather lace up dress shoes? No problem. Seven dollars for a bar of chocolate? "But it was made by capuchin monks who bless the cacao beans with their healing touch!" What I cannot abide buying are things like SENSIBLE WINTER BOOTS and COMFORTABLE YET AFFORDABLE BACKPACKS. Ick Ick Ick. Well, I WILL NOT BE SEEN ON THE STREETS OF INNSBRUCK WITH A BRIGHT BLUE MEC BACKPACK. I would rather die. And if that makes me an insufferable diva, than so be it. "Yes, I'd like to make a reservation for lunch at le Tour d'Argent. My name? Oh, you won't need it. I'll be the one hauling the purple battered rolling suitcase with the Canadian flag. ..... hello? Are you still there?"
Okay. Sometimes it takes writing things down for one to realize how ridiculous one is being.
I apologize. I am going to Europe, and I can't fucking wait. I will wear my mec backpack with pride... and I will also wear a beret.
Liberté! Egalité! Fraternité! Riots! Vive la France!
More soon.
"L'Hobbit Heroïque"
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