Well, my replacement credit card and ATM card showed up today, so I don’t have to stress about borrowing cash from friends anymore, this is good. And dang good, ’cause I needed to buy a plane ticket today. I am (if you haven’t been able to tell from reading this blog so far) dang determined to take advantage of my temporal and geographic location. I’m not going to be a grad student on a grad student schedule forever, and when I’m (God willing) a rabbi, I’m betting vacation time is going to be kind of a fuzzy concept. Certainly a LOT fuzzier than it is now, and right now I’m also a mere pond skip away from all sorts of interesting places. Makes sense, as long as I’m fortunate enough to have the option, to prioritize going to see them, no?
Soo, my most excellent friend Lisa is going to meet me in Paris on February 4th, where we will make all sorts of trouble, eat all sorts of things with heavy cream in them, ogle all sorts of art, maybe take a detour to Amsterdam, and ring in my 30th year (one month from today, mark your calenders one and all) with an apropriate level of panache. Then, I’ll send her on her way (5-6 days in) and will have another week over yonder in which to run around and troublemake, eat, ogle, detour, etc.
Life could way suck worse.
PA-ris? Lord, girl, are you nuts? You could go to Spain! The Prado has it ALL OVER the Louvre. And the food in Spain is much better. Cordoba has the remnants not only of the Jewish quarter and the Maimonides statue, but also the remains of the anarchists organizations (including a pretty cool cafe). And Toledo has two very cool synagogues.
Besides, Spaniards bathe regularly and their public transportation, as a result, doesn’t smell like they’ve been carrying livestock in it. Although maybe in winter the metro won’t stink so badly. Can I talk you into Spain? C’mon! You know you want it.
No way, honeybun. Had some good, lovely time in Spain when I was Traveller Girl back in the day, and though I probably wouldn’t mind ever seeing those Gaudis again , part of me knows Spain a second time will never compare to the magic I had that first time ’round. Stories for another day. In any case, I certainly have never had my fill of Paris (2 days 9 years ago), and my travelling companion was very clear on the fact that she would be interested in the overseas travel only (I think that’s fair to say) if it involved baguettes and rich cheeses. Generous soul that I am, I agreed to comply.