Yep...Still Got It

I had a blonde moment to end all blonde moments tonight.

And I'm not even blonde.

You know how when you order checks, they always tell you to verify the information when you receive the new order (do the check making people really think anyone actually does this)? So tonight I'm paying bills,  and I'm three batches of checks into a box I ordered about nine months ago. As it always seems to do, the current check batch runs out mid-bill paying, so I grab the next one in the box and continue paying bills. Suddenly, I notice the check numbers aren't in sequence. The new batch is 30 check numbers ahead of the last batch, meaning there are now 30 unaccounted for checks.

"No big deal," I think. I obviously must have grabbed the wrong batch when refilling the checkbook, and the batch with the correct sequence numbers must still be in the box.

Back into the box I go to find the right checks. I glance at all the check numbers on the top of the new batches, but none of them begin with the number of the missing sequence. I put the checks in order according to the number of the top check of each batch, just to make sure I'm not missing anything. (It isn't hard. There are just two batches left: the one I had pulled out, and the one with the reorder form on it.) The check number on the reorder form is the number immediately following the last check in the new batch I just pulled out, meaning it comes after the new batch and there really are 30 checks missing from the box.

I'm a little nervous at this point. Does the fact that I'm missing 30 checks mean it was just a misprint? Or, gulp, does it mean that someone somehow took them at some point in between the time they were printed to the time they arrived in our mailbox? And is there anything that can actually be done about it, since it took me nine months to notice?

"Don't panic," I think to myself. "Call customer service. Surely it was just a misprint and they will straighten it all out."

I call customer service. A talking robot answers the phone, and politely gives me three options to choose from. None of them seem to pertain to my particular dilemma, however, so I say "Customer service," hoping the robot will understand.

The robot does not understand. "I'm sorry," the robot says. "I do not recognize that option. Please choose from the following three options."The robot then repeats the same three options to me.

Quickly realizing there is a very real possibility I might lose this battle, I try a different tactic. "Operator," I say.

"I'm sorry, I did not understand you," the robot politely replies.

"Associate! Representative! HUMAN!" I say to the robot (surely it will have to recognize one of the many verbal options I have just provided).

"I'm sorry. I did not understand you." (We are eons away from being overrun by robots, people, I can assure you.)

Fortunately, the robot is so thoroughly confused at this point, its system goes into its default setting...which means I get transferred to a real live person! Success! But alas, the thrill of my victory was to be short-lived, being very quickly squashed by the realization of my own incredible stupidity.

The customer service rep listens to my predicament and takes down some information. "Do you see a batch of checks with a reorder form on top?" the service rep asks.

"Yes," I reply. I'm still staring right at it.

"What check number is on the reorder form?" the service rep asks.

I give the service rep the check number, the number that begins the last sequence in this particular box of checks.

"Lift up the order form," the service rep instructs me. "Underneath the order form should be the missing check numbers."

What is it that Homer Simpson usually says in situations like these? And why couldn't I have remembered that the check number on the reorder form indicates the first check number of your new order, and does not indicate the check number on the check immediately following the order form before I called customer service?

In other news, I'm pretty sure I just made this blog: http://notalwaysright.com.





 

Don't Let This Happen To You

I hate salespeople.

Whenever I go shopping anywhere that involves a salesperson--car dealership, retail stores where employees work on commission--I always try to fly in and out under the radar to avoid any unneccesary contact with these people. If they come to my door, I pretend I'm not home. If they call on the phone, I screen the call. Why? The same reason 95% of the rest of the world's population does the same thing: the fact that I feel like I'm being conned.

If you've ever had the same reaction to something and felt as though you were being a bit paranoid or overreacting, have I got a story that will cure you of that but quick:

We have been in the market for a new computer, and visited a local branch of a big box electronics store, which shall remain nameless, within the last few weeks to look at the computer Hubby has been eyeballing. We had been there for no more than .046 seconds when--you guessed it--the manager walked over to see if we needed any "help."

Within the first three minutes of the conversation, this guy talked us out of a sale. He did it by trying to talk us into buying something else in addition to the computer: the extended warranty the store offers. His sales pitch? He told us that he had the same machine we were looking at, and the hard drive had fried after only a year's time.

I immediately felt conned. We had done some research prior to coming in, and hadn't heard of anything like this ever happening with this particular computer. Plus, what this guy didn't know was that Hubby used to work for this very same big box electronics store, and was well aware of their policy to give incentives to their managers for selling as many of these extended warranties as possible. Once, Hubby watched his own boss get a weekend trip to Las Vegas because he and his employees sold enough sound systems (that's right, the employees under the manager don't get rewarded for their sales--they all get lumped under the manager's numbers, and the manager is the only one who gets the reward).

I quickly came to loathe this manager. I decided there was no way was he getting credit for anything we bought. Ever. So I encouraged Hubby to leave. He did, even though he really wanted the computer. I felt like a bad wife, but was still determined not to buy anything from that man.

Fast forward to this week. Hubby's co-worker, also in the market for a new computer, goes to the same branch of this big box electronics store and is helped by the same guy. He gives her the same schpeel about his hard drive frying within the first year of his owning the machine, and encourages her to get the extended warranty. Instead of walking out of the store like we did, however, she bought the warranty. It added almost $500 onto her purchase price.

A different employee rang up her purchases. As they were chatting while the transaction was being processed, Hubby's co-worker mentioned something about the schpeel the manager had given her, which had influenced her to buy the extended warranty. The other employee rolled her eyes and said:

"That guy's such a jerk. He's got five computers, and, like, three of them he's won from here because he sells so many of these warranties."

So take heart friends! It's okay to say no to the pushy salespeople. There is a reason they are pushy, and it isn't because they have your best interests at heart.

How Many Times Can YOU Move in a Year?

When I started this blog, I was updating daily. Then it went to weekly...then biweekly.

Now I'm down to biannually. :( For those of you who still read, my apologies. Life has gotten in the way of regular blog posts. I do enjoy blogging, and intend to keep up with it, even if posts are few and far between for the time being. I am hopeful that the frequency might change once life calms back down.

When I last posted, we were living in an apartment, desperately hoping to find a house before our lease expired at the end of September. We failed. We found another house we'd hoped to buy at the end of September, but again, it was a bank repo, and someone else beat us to it (although, again, it was still listed as available).

So our lease expired, and we packed up our stuff, and one of Ben's aunts was nice enough to take us in for a month. That was October. In November we moved across the yard and into Ben's dad's house, where we stayed for the next six weeks. Fortunately, during that time, we were able to find a house that we liked and was available! We closed and moved in December, almost six months to the day when we closed and sold our previous home.

And in those six months, we moved six times, alternating between the apartment and generous relatives who tolerated us temporarily invading their space. To those relatives, if you ever read this, a huge thank you. It is a wonderful blessing to have family who will take you in when your Plan A, B, and C living arrangements fail.

We have been in our new home for two months now, and we love it. It has a walk-in pantry, a whirlpool bath, formal dining room and a fireplace, all features I was hoping to find. Hubby loves the large three car garage and basement, which he's turned into his man-cave. The previous owners took good care of the house, so, while there are cosmetic changes we are making to suit our personal taste, there were no changes that absolutely had to be made if we had decided to pass on the house projects.

And I have pictures! Well, two. We still have stuff all over the place, so if you want to see more, you'll just have to come visit. I refuse to document for public posterity our current mess.

This room had the nastiest carpet in the house. So we gave it to our cats.

And our living room with the afore mentioned fireplace!

Limbo

April 28 was the first time we went house hunting.

It is now September 10, and we still haven't found a house. We've seen at least 100 houses. At least.

That's not to say we haven't found anything we like. There have been two houses we've tried to buy. The first was a short sale, and the agent didn't disclose there was an existing offer until we called to make ours. The second was a bank-owned home, and, again, the agent didn't disclose there were multiple existing offers until after we had seen the home and fallen in love with it.

Our three-month lease, which we originally thought would be too long, expires at the end of the month, and we're not sure where we're living after that.

All of our stuff is in boxes in the garages of various relatives. I can't bake anything in the oven, because all that stuff is packed. Pizza cutter? Packed. Winter jackets that we'll be needing soon? Packed.

I'm frustrated.

Men

One of the perks of apartment living is shared laundry facilities. Based on the people I've seen floating around our apartment complex, I refuse to use the laundry facilities as it is quite probable that they are hotbeds of multiple germ and bug infestations. My mother-in-law has been nice enough to loan out her laundry facilities whenever we need them, so once every other week or so I bring two basket fulls of dirty laundry and camp out at her house for the 12 hours it takes to wash two weeks worth of laundry. Recently, on a non-laundry week, hubby asked me if I was planning on going to his mom's to do laundry. I said no, but that I would make a special trip if he really needed something. He was shooting a wedding that weekend, and needed a pair of dress pants washed, so on my day off I dragged my basket of laundry down to my mother-in-laws and did a load of laundry. He also requested I pick up some other items we are storing at her place. At 5:30PM, hubby called to tell me he was on his way home from work.

"Ok," I replied. "I am just now leaving your mom's."

"Oh," hubby says, his voice filled with surprise. "Did you do laundry today or something?"

Next time he needs an emergency load done, I'm just going to go buy him new clothes instead. It will be quicker.

Where Does The Time Go?

Wow. February 5. It feels like I just updated this blog a couple of weeks ago.

For any of you still out there, here's what we've been up to:

Moving: we began the process of putting our home on the market in March. By April, we were finally ready to list. In today's economy, we weren't sure how long it would be until we had a buyer. We had regular showings--every couple of days I was either going to work late or coming home early to make sure the house was clean for prospective buyers. Our house sold in under three weeks, which caught us a little off guard, because we had been so busy getting the house ready to sell that we hadn't bothered to look for a new one yet.

Our closing was in June; we had scheduled a two and a half week vacation a year ago that ended four days before our scheduled closing. We decided not to cancel. We enjoyed the vacation, but paid for the timing. We had four days to move our seven years worth of stuff plus the 20+ years of stuff from Hubby's childhood out of the house. We didn't make it--Hubby had to go back the next day for one final load. Fortunately the new buyer wasn't moving in until two weeks after the closing.

Since the closing, we've looked at probably 100 homes. We're still looking. It's been a frustrating process. Temporary housing is an apartment with a three-month lease; originally we thought that would be too long, but now I'm worried it won't be long enough.

We are hoping to be in permanent housing within the next couple of months. In the meantime, we don't have Internet access at the apartment, so postings will probably remain few and far between. Hopefully the next post will be a picture of our new house!

'Nuff Said

California Turbines Frozen in Minnesota Wind

From the Star Tribune:

"Like a lot of California transplants, 11 newcomers to Minnesota are having a hard time adjusting to our winters.

They are wind turbines, erected last fall by 11 metro and outstate cities. The green energy machines were expected to be spinning before Christmas, but so far their blades have been largely motionless, apparently paralyzed by frigid weather."

I posted this on Facebook but thought it was worth a second look here. Just more proof that things from California weren't meant to live in the Upper Midwest.

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

January is usually the time when I post about how much I hate the cold, or about how much I hate how midwesterners drive in the cold. Today I thought I'd do something a little different. Below is a picture that accurately sums up the midwest experience for me:

For those of you who can't read the sign, it says "Free Mullet Removal." And yes, this huge sign was posted roadside here in Minnesota within the last few years. Because in Minnesota, the mullet is still an acceptable hair style, 25 years after it's 15 minutes of fame.

Bah Humbug-er's

Ah, the Christmas season. A time filled with decorations, parties, friends and family...

And shopping. Lots and lots of shopping.

I am a diehard Black Friday shopper. I've been doing it for years. There is nothing like the feeling of excitement that comes when one starts eargerly anticipating the arrival of the Thanksgiving paper and the included Black Friday ads.

I am a sucker for doorbusters, jewelry in particular. The Friday after Thanksgiving is the only morning of the year when I will voluntarily get up well before the crack of dawn to score $15 pearls or $10 earrings.

Each year the stores are opening earlier and earlier, and many of the major department stores find themselves competing with each other for customers. Both JCPenney's and Kohl's, stores that I routinely hit on Black Friday, opened at the 4AM this year. Herberger's, a midwest department store, opened at 3AM. All had excellent sales on jewelry, which presented a quandry for me.

For those of you who do Black Friday shopping, you know that many of the high profile door buster items are cleaned out within the first five minutes of the store opening. Picking which store to go to first is the equivalent of deciding which doorbuster you want the most. But many of the stores solved that problem for you this year by offering online shopping.

Herberger's was one store that offered customers the option to buy selected doorbusters online on Thanksgiving. Even though it was the only store opening at this time, it was a welcome discovery for me, becauase a) Herberger's is always obnoxiously crowded on Black Friday, b) I wasn't real excited about the 3AM opening, because c) it's freakishly cold in Minnesota at 3AM on the last Friday in November.

So, decked out in my comfy jammies and in the warmth of my own house, I solved my Herberger's dilemma on Thanksgiving by ordering all of the doorbuster merchandise I wanted online.

I received a confirmation email immediately, listing all of the merchandise I had just ordered. I then went to go get ready for Thanksgiving, quite proud of my shopping accomplishment.

The e-mail confirmation stated that my order would ship in 7-10 days. Sure enough, about a week later, a box from Herberger's appeared at our doorstep. However, it did not contain the full order. I received an email saying the rest of the items would be shipped shortly.

I waited another week, eagerly checking the mailbox each night to see if a package had arrived. When that week had passed, and still nothing had arrived, I began to get a little nervous. I had originally purchased all these items for gift exchanges we would be part of or as gifts for other people, and Christmas was rapidly approaching. I called the customer service number on the order confirmation to check the status of my order. I waited...and waited...and waited...and then decided that I could watch a little TV with one ear and keep the other ear open for the promised representative that was supposed to be with me shortly. I watched an entire half hour TV sitcom while waiting for that stupid representative before deciding the situation was ridiculous, and I would call back from work tomorrow when I could at least put the call on speaker phone so I could work while waiting for a human to pick up the phone.

The next day at work I made the call, put it on speaker phone, and waited another 20 minutes for a representative, only to find out that the remainder of the items I had ordered were not in stock. Now, this initially wasn't that big of a deal to me. I figured that the items were backordered, and, while we might not have them in time for Christmas, they would at least arrive sometime thereafter. A late present is better than no present at all.

But the items had not been backordered. Instead of trying to fill the rest of my order, Herberger's canceled it. THEY CANCELED IT. I was told by the poor person on the other end of the line who was in no way responsible for my situation but was having to deal with my wrath because of it that I should have received an e-mail notifying me of the cancelation.

I received no email. There was never any correspondence indicating that the order had been canceled. I received only two e-mails from Herberger's: the order confirmation and the shipping notice, wherein they said the rest of the items would be sent shortly.

Not only am I down several gifts I was counting on having days before Christmas, but I am down doorbuster jewelry items. These were not items we would purchase as gifts at regular price. Days before Christmas, there is no way we were going to find gifts of the same quality at the same price as the jewelry I had ordered. Furthermore, the entire problem could have been avoided if I had just done the shopping in-store the day after Thanksgiving; I could have left the store with the actual items in hand. But I didn't, because I thought I had finished all of my shopping online.

There was no indication on the Web site when I ordered that these items were not in stock. Apparently the people at Herberger's have never heard the old addage "If it's not for sale, don't put it in the window."

And there is one ad I will not be looking at when I make my 2010 Black Friday shopping list.

A-Typical Interview

For those of you who don't know, my husband works at a nursing home. As part of his duties, he is responsible for handling the admittance process for new residents, which includes a variety of paperwork and a pre-screening type interview.

One of the questions he has to ask about the person being admitted is whether or not they were ever a convicted sex offender, because, you know, nursing homes don't want to admit potential threats to their communities.

So on one recent day he is interviewing a man who is admitting his wife, and my husband gets to the part of the interview where he has to ask if the woman is a convicted sex offender.

The man's response?

"Well if she was, I was sure missing out."

Costco Fail

Recently I was making a run to Costco. I typically love shopping at Costco, but the one Costco experience I could do without is having to show your membership card upon entrance. I'm not sure why they do that, since you can't actually purchase anything without a membership card anyway, so it seems to be somewhat of a redundant effort.

But I digress. The reason it is my least favorite Costco experience is because I can never seem to manage to have the card out and ready to show in an efficient manner prior to actually entering the store. My best efforts are almost always derailed by a cell phone that rings at an inopportune moment, or a cart that doesn't realize that I am supposed to control the direction in which it travels, leaving me fiddling for my membership card as the greeter, and inevitably a line of people behind me, wait.

But on one recent trip no unwanted distractions occurred during the walk from the parking lot to the store, and I was actually able to pull my membership card out of my wallet prior to entering. I was quite proud of my accomplishment, so you can imagine my disappointment when the greeter didn't even glance at my card as I was approaching the entrance.

So what did I do? Why I repositioned the card of course, putting it in a location where she could not help but see it (actually, she probably couldn't have avoided it if she tried).

You can imagine my surprise and confusion, then, when instead of smiling at me and welcoming me to Costco, a place in where my membership card clearly indicated I belonged, the greeter looked at me like I was an escapee from a local mental institution.

Then I realized the card I had taken such care to show to her wasn't my Costco membership card at all, but a rewards card for a local gas station chain.

Battle of the Bulge

Recently Hubby and I went out to eat. Somehow, we got on the topic of breakfast, and Hubby mentioned that during a recent morning commute to work, the dry cereal he had brought to munch on just didn't seem that appealing anymore.

What did Hubby want to eat instead? A doughnut.

Both Hubby and I have been experiencing weight gain in the last few years. Nothing extreme, but neither of us is in the shape we once were, or in the shape we'd like to be.

So Hubby tells himself that he does not need a doughnut. The cereal he brought is just fine. He continues on his way, and then remembers that he is low on gas, and needs to stop at a gas station before work.

This is somewhat problematic, because the station he has stopped at also sells doughnuts.

"I do not need a doughnut, I do not need a dough nut, I do not need a doughnut," Hubby tells himself.

This strategy almost works. Almost. Before leaving, Hubby notices that the station has a special on doughnuts: by one, get one free.

So what does Hubby do? I'll let him tell you in his own words:

"So I didn't buy a doughnut. I bought two."

Prairie Dogs Have Plague

My apologies to all my regular readers (all two of you) for the lack of posts this year. The job is consistently crazy, and even on those nights when I'm home at a reasonable hour, my brain is usually too fried to come up with a decent post.

That being said, I have wanted to share with you our recent trip to Mt. Rushmore. It was one of those things on my must see list, and we were able to take a road trip this summer for a long weekend vacation (of course, our recent acquisition of this no doubt helped motivate Hubby for said road trip).

Mt. Rushmore is about an 8-hour drive from the Twin City area...8 hours of corn fields and prairie grass until just before you reach the Black Hills National Forest, where you suddenly find yourself in some of the prettiest scenery I've ever seen anywhere in the U.S.

We stayed at the Best Western Golden Spike Inn in Hill City, which is right in the Black Hills National Forest. Because we were going at what was rapidly approaching peak summer vacation travel time, we bid for our hotel through Priceline in the hope that we would get some sort of discount. We got a room for $115/night that was advertised everywhere else for $150, so initially I was satisfied. However, when we arrived at 9 PM after our 8-hour plus road trip and checked into our room we discovered that it was dirty. I can tolerate a lot as far as hotel rooms go, but dirty isn't one of them. Our room had two queen beds, and when we pulled the sheets back on the first, we found brown stains on the white sheets. We told ourselves it was chocolate, and turned to the other bed. Same brown stains there, except this time they were on the duvet. I am horrified at this point. I went back to the check-in desk to ask for either clean sheets or a new room.

And at this point, I must say that the staff at the Best Western Golden Spike Inn went above and beyond anything I expected to accomodate us. They moved us to a different room, which was really a luxury accomodation. It was a two bedroom apartment, with a full bath, vanity sink outside the bath, full living room and full kitchen, complete with refrigerator, coffee maker, microwave and dishes. It was the biggest hotel room I've ever been in. They told us at the time that this particular room would not be available our whole stay and that we would have to move the next morning, but we were fine with that. We had paid for a standard room, and certainly were fine with staying in a (clean) standard room, which is what we assumed we'd have the next morning.

But once again we were shocked (in a good way) at the level of customer service at the Best Western Golden Spike Inn. The next day we were placed in a suite, complete with jacuzzi tub and fireplace. This suite had a separate sitting area, two TV's, and a kitchenette. It was really one of the nicest hotel rooms I've ever been in. Even though the first room had some issues, I would still recommend and stay at this hotel again based on the customer service. I would even pay full price for one of those suites. Which is saying a lot--we try to never pay more than $100/night for a hotel room.

We were able to pack a lot into our extended weekend. Besides seeing Mt. Rushmore (which is amazing--if you haven't seen it, you really should try--pictures do not do it justice), we took several scenic drives and saw a lot of wildlife, took a tour of Jewel Cave, one of the largest caves in the U.S., "hiked" to an underground waterfall (it was a .6 mile walk), hiked around one of the lakes in Black Hills National Forest, went to a wild horse sanctuary to see wild horses, saw the Black Hills, and stopped at two Laura Ingalls Wilder museums. I grew up reading the Laura Ingalls Wilder books, and being able to step into the house she lived in and see things that I read about and that she actually owned was a really cool experience for me. The wild horse sanctuary, in addition to having several herds of wild mustangs, also had one of the oldest post office boxes in the U.S. It was literally a small wooden shack built back in the days of the pony express. There were also ancient hieroglyphics that National Geographic has even featured in one of their shows.

It's definitely an area of the country I would recommend seeing. But I will stop talking now and show you the pictures, since they are more convincing than anything I could ever say. Enjoy!

Mt. Rushmore

Mt. Rushmore through a tunnel. On one of the scenic drives we took, there were several tunnels carved out of rock that were only big enough for one car to go through at a time. This was one of them.

Inside Jewel Cave

Wild Mustang herd

Baby wild mustang

Hieroglyphics

Old post office

Baby mountain goat--one of the many wildlife creatures we saw. We were really as close to them all as the pictures make it seem.

Antelope

Prairie dog--I loved these little guys, even if there was a sign outside of the entrance to the Badlands National Park that they had plague.

Deer

Buffalo and baby

Badlands--it was much prettier here than I thought it would be.

Sounds of Summertime in the Ghetto

Welcome to the 'hood.

Is it the sound of rap music blaring from a 1987 boombox coming from the upstairs window of the low income housing condominium abutting your backyard that lets you know you live in the ghetto?

Or is it the summer barbecue held on a Tuesday evening at which 30+ people are in attendance and partaking in basketball, loud conversation, dancing and smoking all out on their front lawn because, you know, who wants to party inside and not disturb the neighbors on a weeknight? until the wee hours of the morning that lets you know the neighborhood ain't what it used to be?

Perhaps it's the sound of preschool-aged children having the time of their lives running around the neighborhood unsupervised in their diapers after dark.

Or the sound of social workers slamming their car doors as they make their regular visits.

Or the preteen youth who come to your door and ask if they can have $30 so they can buy a birthday present for their cousin.

Maybe it's the sound of somebody's top-of-the-line car stereo system as they cruise back to the aforementioned low-income housing project they live in.

Or maybe it's the sound of a mother screaming at the top of her lungs from her doorstep instructing the children that she spent the last 3 hours not watching to get back in the house.

Whatever it is, it's time to move.

Sign of the Times

You know the economy isn't doing well when the local thrift store goes out of business.

Not Any More He Doesn't

Recently Hubby and I were watching The Amazing Race, and I mentioned how that would be the only reality show I would ever consider doing. You essentially have a trip around the world paid for, and, if you do it right, you could win one million dollars just for traveling. A guaranteed travel opportunity and a chance to win one million dollars? Where do I sign up?

But Hubby was all about Fear Factor. Do you remember that show? Contestants were given outrageous challenges, and the one left standing at the end won the monetary prize. Each episode of Fear Factor included at least one challenge where contestants had to eat something disgusting like live spiders or pig's blood or something.

I told Hubby I could never, ever, EVER do that show because of the eating challenges. And then I asked him if he seriously thought he could stomach some of those things. And do you know what my darling husband said to me then?

"Why not? I eat your cooking."

Hmph.

You Can't Take Us Anywhere

Recently Hubby and I attended an event at the college where I did my graduate work. It was the type of event one did not arrive at in jeans. Everyone was dressed in at least business casual attire, and all of the highest ranking facutly members of the department were present. The hall where they had the event was beautifully arranged. All the tables were covered with linen tableclothes and napkins and there was a bottle of red and white wine on each table beautifully highlighted by elegant tea-candle table decorations.

It was to be a 3-course dinner. It began with the salad course. The salads were placed at each place setting before hand, and had fruit and lettuce other than Iceberg. Our table had just finished passing the bread basket and Hubby found an open space on the table on which to put it. We began our meal to the sounds of fine china and silver clinking and academic conversation filling the air.

Our meal continued this way until someone at the next table looked at us and said "FIRE!!!!" It took a minute for us to realize what they were talking about, but as we followed the gaze of the woman yelling "FIRE!!!!" we realized what had happened.

The bread basket, which was elegantly lined with a linen napkin, had been set too close to one of those beautiful tea-candle table decorations, and was now in flames. While I tried to figure out a way to extinguish the flames that would be less of a scene than throwing the table's carafe of water on it, Hubby quietly used his Boy Scout skills to smother the flaming napkin, and then handed over it's charred remains to a member of the wait staff.

So at the fancy-schmancy elegant dinner, it was us that managed to accidentally set fire to something. I'm sure some of my former professors wondered how I ever managed to finish the program.

Our Paris Vacation Comes To An End

On our last day in Paris, we decided to take it relatively easy. We got up late, and then decided to do all the things on our list that we had missed earlier in the week. The first stop was Notre Dame. A relative had recommended seeing the crypt, but it had been closed our two previous times there. The crypt isn't what it sounds like--we weren't looking at old skeletons. It was basically an underground museum with an interesting display of the history of Notre Dame.


We had also wanted to try the restaurant in the Musee D'Orsay, and did so today. We only ate out a few times in Paris because I bought too much stuff when we went to the grocery store by our apartment, and that was my only real regret about this portion of our European trip. I was glad we had the opportunity to eat here though. It was reasonably priced, and I found the food to be good. We each had the plat du jour, which was fish (cod, if I remember right) over fettucine. For dessert, Hubby had the best ice cream I have ever tasted (and that includes all the gelato I ate in Italy), and I had a “Floating Island.” I’m not quite sure what a “Floating Island” is, but it tasted like a big, toasted marshmallow in a caramel sauce. Yummy!


After lunch, we went to the Orangerie to see Monet’s lilies. For those of you unfamiliar with these pieces, they are huge canvas paintings of...well...lilies. They were breath taking. I had originally had the Orangerie on the list of sites we’d see if there was time, and I am really glad we ended up going. That man was just a genius. I can’t believe he painted so many pieces of that size. Amazing. Here are some pictures (these paintings were about 8 feet tall by 25 feet wide):

And that was the end of our time in Paris. Of all the places we went in Europe, Paris is the one I miss the most, which suprises me actually, because at the time we were there, we felt as though we had done a pretty good job of seeing everything we wanted to see. But there is something about waking up and falling asleep with the Eiffel Tower that I'll never forget. Paris was magical, and I hope that all of you reading who would like to get there someday are able to do so.

Versailles

We watched Marie Antoinette with Kirsten Dunst before going on this trip, and I knew then that I wanted to see Versailles. Versailles is about an hour train ride out of Paris, and the train ride was mostly uneventful. At one stop, a group of tourists taking a bike tour got on. They successfully loaded six bikes onto the train in the 45 seconds they had to do so. I was semi-impressed. Of course they put the six bikes directly in front of the staircase on the train, blocking passage for anyone wishing to go up or down, but the speed at which they did so was impressive. When we got off the train at Versailles, we followed the masses to the palace, and…NO! The marble courtyard was undergoing renovation. (Rent Marie Antoinette if you want to see what I'm talking about. It is amazing, but alas, wasn't to be for us.) It had sheets and tarps and scaffolding all over it. I was really looking forward to being able to see Versailles from this angle in person, so was disappointed to discover we would not be able to.

It took about an hour and a half to see the interior of the palace. My favorite part about the whole experience was looking for all of the hidden doors in the walls to see how many “secret” rooms there were. The exterior of the palace--now that was the highlight in my opinion. The grounds are massive, and immaculately kept. I loved the gardens—I wished I had had the energy (or the debate skills I needed to convince Hubby to rent a golf cart) to see even more than we did. And I absolutely loved the Hamlet. We spent all day at Versailles. It was a lot of walking (I had to rest a couple of times) but well worth it. Here are some pictures:

Above: Versailles

Above: Marie Antoinette's Hamlet. She had this built so

she could experience peasant life.

Above: The gardens

The Mona Lisa!

For our fourth day in Paris, we spent the morning at St. Chapelle, and then the bulk of the afternoon at the L'Ouvre. A relative had recommended St. Chapelle, and we really enjoyed seeing it. The chapel is almost entirely stained glass, so it's really pretty when the sunlight comes in and hits the different windows. Here's a picture of one of the windows:

After we left St. Chapelle, we stopped by Notre Dame again so Hubby could climb the tower. You are still able to climb some of the towers of the churches in Europe, and Hubby wanted to try this one. It was the same tower Victor Hugo wrote about in Hunchback of Notre Dame. I don't do heights, so Hubby was on his own for the 400+ stair climb. Here is a picture from the top:
After Hubby finished his climb, we were ready to see one of the most storied museums in the world. We headed first in the direction of Winged Victory and the Mona Lisa. Winged Victory was quite impressive. I liked how they had it displayed on top of a staircase, and it was much, much bigger than I thought it would be. We continued on, admiring all the paintings, but the best parts for me were the ceilings. Don’t forget to look up when sightseeing in Europe. You’ll miss some of the best stuff.

We got a peak at the Mona Lisa between the heads of the people crowded around her. By this time, we needed to get away from the crowds, so we made our way to the sculptures. And there I discovered my favorite piece: The Veiled Lady. I couldn’t believe I was looking at stone, it was so realistic and delicate looking. Before leaving, we saw the Medieval L’Ouvre, which Hubby and I also really liked—it is the foundations of the old building. I would recommend that as well, to anyone who is going.

You could spend a week in the L’Ouvre, and still maybe not see it all. One thing that really helped us was reading about the collection beforehand, and deciding what it was that we wanted to focus on. If we hadn’t done this, I would have felt very, very…lost.

We didn't take many pictures inside the building because it wasn't worth fighting the crowds, but here are is a picture of the outside:

That night we took a cruise down the Seine. The cruise was nice (bring a jacket!). But I think we were spoiled with our apartment. I enjoyed seeing all of the sights at night from the boat, but…it just wasn’t the same as looking out over all of Paris from our apartment. But I would definitely recommend the cruise nevertheless.