London…baby! London!
damn….I start working tomorrow…Nervous…yes!
My bro would be thrilled with the easy access of Starbucks in London and Paris….all coffee - all the time.
Ok…after getting smacked around by the excess baggage charges in Rome and the damn powerful pound and the weak US dollar exchange rate…we’re trying to do things cheaply in London. Nice town…but the pound is kicking our ass…
We found a delightful little restaurant last night that served a three course dinner for 6.50 pounds. Score! Tasty dinner of pancetta-pasta salad, Baked Chicken Normandy and strawberry jelly with chantilly cream.
Our flat is lovely…someone left trash at our front door….I was so thrilled about the place that I moved all of luggage downstairs…I couldn’t wait to move-in….Mark was meeting the rental company. Call-me SuperWoman!
Picadilly Circus looks different from my last visit, over a decade ago. I don’t remember the Virgin Record Store….all three of them in the vicinity…I don’t remember Starbucks, Burger King, Pizza Hut and the Body Shop, either….globalization…baby.
It’s a grey day….hope it doesn’t rain…I’ll get around to posting pix…in a bit…
it inside the Museo del Corso…sounds like an improv jazz concert in the other room…Mark and I are sipping chianti….
Mark: “All roads lead to Rome…but not all flights…we had to take Ryanair to get here and Easyjet to leave…”
You don’t want to take too much luggage on Ryanair…they smacked us with a $200+ charge for our extra bags. Bastards.
Rome is beautiful…the Hotel Princes…a tiny place with thin walls…stupid American chicks couldn’t get use to the time change and kept us up….i complained to the frontdesk… they took care of business…
We went to the Vatican City…did mass inside St. Peter’s Basillica…It was wonderful. It was crowded with folks who ended up getting bored by the mass in Italian. I was happy to sing along with the Alleuia version I knew from my other parishes. It was also lovely to hear folks following along with the Latin chants. Taking communion at St. Peter’s was a deeply spiritual experience…
Did lunch next to the Vatican City…we have pix stepping one foot in Rome and the other in Vatican City.
We also took the Metro to Colosseo. Once you step out of the station…the Colosseum is waiting for you. This was so damn beautiful…and I was blown away by the dirty…damaged building. We had a copy of Lonely Planet’s guide to Italy and I played tour guide. We also walked through the Roman Forum and Trajan’s Forum. I studied these plays as an undergrad at Berkeley. It got me all choked up inside…
After the Roman Forum…we stepped inside a church. there was a sign for no photography. It smelled like lilys inside. I blessed myself at the fountain. Then I saw a bride and groom kneeling in front of priest. We just stepping into a wedding. Then Mark and I stepped outside and kissed, on the steps of a church…in Rome
blogging from porte maillot…waiting for the 10 euro shuttle to take us to Paris-Beauvais airport…going to Italy…Mark said he’s going to get by in this country speaking English….I bought a loney planet book on Italy from Jaymie in ur Medill Global Program for 20 Euros. Who do you think will survive?
Gotta remember to cover on dressing for mass tomorrow…we’re staying near the Vatican City…I hope we can get a blessing from the pope-dude…I want to bring over the rosaries I got from Sacre Couer and have some priest-dude bless them
Mark said if Will (the small one) was a woman, he would look like the bar maid in this James Joyce Pub. That’s what he said.
ok…this is directed to friends and family:
I had to TURN OFF the comment section of this blog. Too many asshole spammers have flooded my site with their goddamn links…and I suspect it’s a bit of a strain for my domain. I’ve been getting nasty e-mails from the domain dudes about taking up too much of my quota.
So, fuck spammers. They’re not practicing free speech. They’re only eroding the free speech of other bloggers. Fuck spammers.
I will allow comments when I’ve installed the emergency fix for MT Blacklist. That should knock the fucking spammers off my site. I probably won’t get to it until I move to London.
Back to Paris…
We only have a few days left in the city of lights…it makes me sad….but I think many of us are ready to tackle our residencies…Mark and I are making a quick stop in Italy this weekend. I can’t wait to say whats-up to the Pope. I read he does this mid-day blessing thing on Sundays.
Let’s see…one girl lost her passport….C’est dommage! N’est pas? First she headed over to the US Embassy and they almost crapped their pants at her presence…something about 9/11 security. Then they had her go to the consulate. She got her passport in 3 hours. She had to show proof that she was leaving the country. She didn’t make a photocopy of her passport. I feel better having a copy of my passport in my bags and another one with my mom.
Other girls got naked in a Turkish Bath.
Another guy ran into the grandson of Walt Whitman…he just didn’t know the dude was the grandson. He was at Shakespeare and Co. and the wanted to say hi to the owner of the bookstore (for you Bay Area kids out there - this is the OG Shakespeare and Co - before the one on Dwight Way in Berkeley). The owner asked if he could have the student’s newspaper. The student said he was still working on the crossword puzzle. The owner kept insisting, so the student ripped out the crossword puzzle and let him pull the paper away. Weird guy.
I’ve been working on two documentaries….one is a behind the scenes look at Medill’s global journalism seminar…I suspect it will morph into a PR product for the school….the other one is on our trip to Normandy.

I think I have enough footage and interviews for both projects. I’m a bit freaked out by the prospect of editing 4+ hours of tape…but hey, this is a sweet oppertunity to do my producing thang. Upon further reflection…I feel I may have missed out on some of the gawking-experience….with the sites and sounds of Paris and the cool reporters who have waltzed into our Science Po classroom. I was too busy checking on lighting, focus and white balance of the shots. This is my second trip to Paris….so, I’m not too wrapped up in the ooing and awing….but it would have been nice to keep the camera bag home for a day and be a student. Still, I would not have dones this trip any other way. Medill has never sent a camera out for the Paris seminar or the Normandy trip. Prof. Angotti believes there’s a spot for the Normandy doc on the new Channel 1 program line-up. Then I’d have to production credits to my name.
This school is amazing.
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I need to take a French class to get my ass stationed in Paris….I know it’s a competitve world, but I have to try.
I need to take an Arabic class to get my ass stationed in the Middle East. I’m reading Anne Garrels’Naked in Baghdad. Garrels is an NPR correspondent and she kicks ass. We also spoke to NBC’s Martin Fletcher in Tel Aviv and CBS’ Barry Petersen in Baghdad. (it was a phone conference meeting). They also kick ass. I want to follow in their footsteps.
I know I’m getting married and I know Mark’s a little worried about this travelust. But I want to do this now before I get knocked up and have kids.
He understands.
I promised I would be careful. I want to cover the war zones to understand what’s going on and to tell other people’s stories. I appreciate the efforts of our armed forces, but what about the Iraqi civilians? Anne Garrels and Barry Petersen acknowledge it’s difficult to reach these personal stories.
I think I can.
I had another bad dream last night.
Dinosaurs attacked our school in a French province. Chaos ensued. I convinced a handful of journalism students to lure the dinos back to the classroom. Then I allowed a few students to escape and locked the rest in.
It bought us some time. It disturbs me to imagine myself capable of mass murder. In the dream - bodies and body limbs were tossed up in a frenzy of dino eating.
Underneath the school, there’s a mall. I run inside with another students. We wanted to set the building on fire as the dinos feasted on the students. We ran into some Gap workers. Their arms were loaded with Gap clothing. They stared at us. We said nothing. Then we hit a fork in the road. We both had matches. We ran in separate directions. I found an electric closed with brick walls. I started lighting the matches and tossing them at the transformer. It caught fire…but the blaze kept running out of steam. I could hear a raptor heading my way.
I felt trapped. I woke up gasping.
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WOW….amazing art…..I don’t see what why people make such a big deal out of the Mona Lisa…maybe that viewing experience was soured by all the damn tour groups pushing and shoving to get a glimpse of her mysterious smile.
The Venus de Milo was stunning.
and by the way….got my money back! YEAH! Thankfully Wells figured out this was an incorrect charge and erased it. I can use my check card again! YEAH! So, it was nice to be able to pay for our Lourve tix.
8,50 Euros….apparently it’s only 3 Euros on Sunday and free for people under 26. Damn - my birthday was in May.
The Metro stop: Musee de Lourve - opens up to the complex. The Lourve was orginally a fortess back in the day. You can buy tickets at a machine, like our movie ticket machines in the States. We walked through Italian peintures, Egyptian sculpture and dead people’s things and ancient Greek sculptures. For the ancient stuff, I’m impressed by the preservation of painted details, like eyes and robes. That paint survived thousands of years….some how….I remember my ancienct civilizations professor said it was rare to run into works with paint, because it was such a delicate substance…
We’re going to Sacre-Coeur today for mass….Mark and I are wearing slacks and button-down shirts. According to Sara, Sacre-Couer is pretty but it’s also a major spot for pick-pocketing….
Earlier this week, our professor got his wallet picked. He said there was a problem at a Metro ticket entrance. It wouldn’t accept tickets. He had one girl in front of him and a mess load of people pressing up in the back. He remembers lots of rubbing of the bodies. When he finally got on the train, he noticed a few kids who didn’t get on the train. That’s when he felt for his wallet.
“They’re pros,” he said. He lost his credit cards and his driver’s license. Thankfully, no cash or his passport. He’s a broadcast professor. That makes him the fourth broadcast person to have his wallet stolen in the last four months. I was the first broadcast person in June.
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cafe creme is kicking my ass… this is a good thing…filmed Andrea, Lexi, Suzelle and Monica getting ready….cute et petite studio in the 14 eme.
still worried about my bank account.
we did not get stop when i had the camera out….i remeber my broadcast crew had to jump through hoops to film at El station….it took us at least a few phone calls…in France- I waltzed on to the train…got a few dirty looks…but had no problem filming….I guess they do not have strict privacy laws….
French keyboards are a pain
and a panier de yoplait…not bad…citron is water and some lime squeezed in. no sugar added. it taste refreashingly bland.
still broke….the charge is pending on my account. maybe my bank will be smart enough to realize this is a mistake and stop the transaction from going through.
still broke…
Mark called Foxtons….he finally left the studio, with the calling card I bought and called up the realtor. He promised to refund my account.
That was five hours ago.
For some reason, it takes these people a few days before they figure out how to conduct a transaction. Maybe it’s the time change. But it’s difficult for me to believe this allegedly reputable company conducts business with business professionals and other rich people. Especially when they go and fuck up my bank account.
I can’t ask my parents for a loan…they’ve already handed over so much to me, as it is.
My last-ditch plan: I’ll call Northwestern and beg for a cash advance on my fall financial aid. What bites about this whole situation - I saved all the dough from the last few quarters for this European experience. Now it’s gone, thanks to some god-damn fool from the UK who couldn’t grasp the concept of Central Standard Time and banking credit limits. Fucking-A. So, I was a good girl. I saved money. And now that effort was for shit.
Damn it.
But I do have a plan. A bad one, but at least it’s something. Especially since Mark still has blind faith in Foxtons. Can’t he see we’re getting screwed.
Had half a bottle of bordereau….working on some Smirnoff Ice. Only 3 Euros for that tasty drink. Maybe I can numb myself into sleep.
I’m terrified of being broke in Europe. I really am. This company…the last time we tried to conduct a transaction, the realtor left the office before I could get my bank to approve my withdrawal increase. He went home before sealing the deal. Is this professional? Is this responsible? Can I trust this asshole?
At least I can drink.
they charged my banking account twice - the allegedly reputable realtors in England…for this studio near my residency….twice. this means i’m broke.
i’m also pissed off and i feel betrayed.
i can’t believe Mark still has faith in these people. we’re getting screwed.
now i’m over $5000 in debt and i can’t do anything about it.
i’m screwed.
probably won’t have enough to eat in a few days….
can’t afford a plane ticket out of paris.
i’m screwed.