We got up around 6am Monday morning and gathered the bags we had begrudgingly packed the night before, checked out, and caught the shuttle to the airport. The flight to London was about an hour, and we ate at Pret in Heathrow. (They need to bring Pret to America if they expect me to stay here.) Heatherow itself was a major pain, completely disorganized. I couldn't wait to get in the plane and off the ground. During the flight, I watched Juno and read the book I bought the day before, and flipped through a few magazines. It was hard to make myself stay awake, but it's the best way to beat jet lag, considering we were coming from a six-hour time difference.
I wanted to cry when we came back to Baltimore. For one, the weather was nasty so the last twenty minutes of the flight was a little rocky. For another, it wasn't Paris. And when we got off the plane, it was FREEZING. But we got our bags, got through immigration and customs, found the car, and headed to Whole Foods for some supplies, right around the end of the downtown work-day.
So there you are: my Parisian vacation. I let my mother know right away that, since she refuses to travel very far and I won't go anywhere without my Mommy, as soon as she dies I'm going to cremate her, stick her in a jar, and move to Paris.
I'll forward you the address. :)
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