when will i see you again?

I took my beloved green backpack to the LLBean store in Mansfield this afternoon to be repaired. It didn't go to the mothership in Freeport, Maine since I was told over the phone that I could go to a retail store, and they would send it to Freeport to be repaired. I turned down the free bag, and I cited my call to the Call Center this morning regarding the repair.
It was really hard handing over my bag. I may not again see the scruffy backpack that has accompanied me to every foreign country I've visited. It was hard to part with the Qantas luggage tags from my flight to Sydney, or the valet tags from the Fairmont Chicago. Just this morning I pulled out a 10 year old ticket for the Rennes Star bus from my term abroad.
I filled out the makeshift information form, and I'm curiously awaiting confirmation that it will be repaired in Maine. Fingers crossed. T-minus 13 days to France.

Return to France

I'm heading back to the land of crepes and nutella for breakfast! the land of moules-frites, steak-frites, and just frites. It's my return to Paris, to Rennes, and Mont St. Michel, my most favorite spot in France. I'm leaving on a jet plane in January...not the most ideal time for frolicking on the banks of the Seine, but still it's away from North America, and away from home. A few days away from the madness of everyday life as an archivist.
I'm most looking forward to returning to Paris, and seeing everything that I missed the last time. I'm a step above being a naive backpacker, and definitely a few flights from the Ritz. I'm making lots of lists, of all the things I want to squeeze in...how can I resist being a master planner?
The Eiffel Tower at night, Sacre-Coeur, a return visit to the Musee d'Orsay. All on the list. Et bien sur, a return visit to Rennes.
Just have to get the backpack fixed...need an emergency trip to Freeport
Too much to think about....ahh....

Song Association

Waterloo Sunset (David Bowie cover): the song that inspired going to London 2003
Tubthumping (Chumbawanba): overplayed in France 1997
Hollaback Girl (Gwen Stefani): blaring everywhere in Australia in 2005, especially in the surf clothing store at the Cairns airport
Samba de Janeiro (Bellini): Anthem blaring throughout Rennes during Nouveau Boujolais 1997
Put Your Hands Up for Detroit (Fedde Le Grand): In all the Reykjavik clubs 2007
Big Sur (The Thrills): first song heard on the radio in Ireland 2003
I Want You Back (Jackson 5): Song I got caught singing along to on the train from Brussels to Amsterdam 1997
Ray of Light (Madonna): Anthem hear everywhere in Israel 1998
Enter Sandman (Metallica): Glod hits the wall when the guys she was moshing with backed away at Boo Radley's, Galway, Ireland, 2003
Young Folks (Peter Bjorn and John): on all the radios in Iceland 2007
Bitch (Meridith Brooks): Song I fled when going to France, only to discover our boarder loved it, and blasted it in his free time 1997
Hang Me Up to Dry (Cold War Kids): On the way back from Maine 2007
Sunchyme (Dario G): In all the clubs in Rennes 1997
Just the Girl (Click 5): In the stores shopping in Seattle 2005
The Cup of Life (Ricky Martin): on both nights at the Underground, Tel Aviv, 1998
Run (Snow Patrol): First time heard on US radio in the car on way home from Burlington, VT, 2004
Hey Ma (Cam'Ron): On the radio at least once every trip on the MassPike to CT in 2003-2004
California Love (2Pac): In my head the whole time in San Fran. 2001
Long Time Coming (Delays): In my head as I boarded the plane in Boston to LA on my way to Australia 2005
Universally Speaking (Red Hot Chili Peppers): In my head as I landed in LA 2003
Anything SpiceGirls: the insanity that they were in Europe 1997

My Guilty Reality Pleasure....

is watching the Real World Sydney....and knowing exactly where they're living. Darling Harbour, see right. And knowing that Louisa's apt. our home base was less than a mile away. Love Darling Harbour...such lucky reality stars...

Showing the Sox Pride Worldwide

I love the Red Sox. Being from Boston, it's in the blood. As I watch the ALDS game tonight vs. Anaheim, I've reminiscing of the times I've shared explaining the obsession....
Since they won it all in 2004, it's been a lot easier to spot the fans. I went to Williamsburg, VA in Spring 2005, just months after they won it all, and was overwhelmed with how much Sox gear I saw. Granted it was school vacation week for Mass. students and the Red Sox were slated to play in Baltimore a few days later...the Boston fans were everywhere...
While changing planes in Melbourne, Australia later in 2005, I was wearing Red Sox sweatshirt. The sales clerk stopped flirting with my friend (wearing the Red Sox hat), and said, "is that a Red Sox jumper...they won a championship recently..." Yes, I replied, thankful I knew sweaters/sweatshirts are called jumpers in other parts of the world. I was stunned he knew them. Earlier in that trip, Louisa, Elizabeth, and I posed in our Sox garb with our Improper Bostonian (never ran our picture!) demonstrating our Sox pride in Circular Quay.
Tickets are so hard to find at Fenway, that seeing the Red Sox on the road is much easier (and cheaper) than securing tickets for a home game. I've only seen the Red Sox on the road once, in Cleveland in 1991....before all of the madness started. My Dad and brother have followed them to California. They're the biggest road draw in baseball...and a lot of that is due to the scarcity of tickets in Boston.
Spring training is my favorite time to see the Red Sox. There's something about wearing shorts in March while watching batting practice. And then calling home and finding out your Mom is stuck shoveling out the driveway since your Dad has taken the kids to Florida. I love being able to be so close to the players. I love riding bikes on Sanibel Island, and then going to a game that night. I haven't been since the Sox won in 2004. It was getting harder to buy tickets then, and spring training tickets are almost close to impossible to score now. That's why my Dad now schedules his spring training trips for when the Red Sox play the Twins across Fort Myers at their facility.

Presidential sightings

On Tuesday this week, I heard the President of Iceland speak at Harvard. Ólafur Ragnar Grímsson spoke as part of Harvard's Center for the Environment "The Future of Energy" lecture series.
Grímsson's lecture highlighted Iceland's success in using geothermal energy as a power source. His talk, "Geothermal Energy: Harnessing the Fire Inside" detailed Iceland's international partnerships to expand geothermal power usage throughout the world. From Germany to Dijibouti to China, Iceland is partnering with these nations to build geothermal power stations. It was interesting to hear about how different countries are approaching geothermal energy. Grímsson was in the United States to speak before Congress on the advantages of using geothermal power. Grímsson showed photographs of his presentations to several high profile American politicians, including Barak Obama.

The presentation included several images of Reykjavik and the Blue Lagoon (the byproduct of a geothermal power plant); images that reminded me of the natural beauty of Iceland. Definitely a place to which I hope to return. I'm all for geothermal power, such a great clean, usage of natural resources. But please, do something about the strong foul smell it creates when used to heat hot water...pursing my lips as a rinse out shampoo is not my idea of getting clean!

driving connecticut

My green backpack couldn't make it to Connecticut this weekend. So my purple one filled in just fine. I spent Friday afternoon driving into Connecticut and stayed until this afternoon.
I left Simsbury this morning around 11:30 and arrived in Willimantic around 12:30. Today was the ideal Fall day...sun shining, cold enough for long sleeves, long pants, but still warm enough for flip-flops, and just a hint of foliage. Mapquest didn't lie...it took me an hour to cover the 41 miles. Though I had taken Route 6 twice before, once coming from Providence in a snowstorm, and another at night for a party, I hadn't realized what a gorgeous ride it is. I actually was enjoying somewhat rural Connecticut. After meeting up with my friend in Willimantic, I continued on through Storrs, and then onto I-84, and the MassPike, reaching Boston at 4. Fall is here. Time to change the clothes in the closet.

I only get sick when I'm away from home....

I'm recovering from a cold. A firm believer in exercise makes sickness go away, I was on the treadmill in Chicago twice trying to remedy my cold symptoms.

As this picture illustrates, being sick on the road is the worst. Rule #1: Don't have your picture taken when you're sick...This was taken in August 2005 at Darling Harbour in Sydney, and proves it to no end. The drink is a Serengeti Sunrise...the most divine drink ever, and I was having a great time with my friends Louisa and Elizabeth...but you can't hide the fact you can't breathe, speak, or are so not functioning normally, even when your friends are all smiles! Elizabeth was heading back to the US, and we were toasting our vacation, and I look as green as my shirt!

I seem to get sick when I'm away...wicked cold in London, terrible seasickness, cold, and a loss of voice in Australia. Stomach virus on the plane home from LA. Same when coming back from Israel. Is it me, or is it the planes?!?!

The meds I bought from Boots in London just expired. I needed to show proof of identity to buy cold medicine in Tasmania. I wish there were black currant throat lozenges here. Don't even get me started on why we need national health care here...

But the cold is much better today, probably because I'm home. I'm down to just vitamin C.

"and we don't care about the old folks... talkin' 'bout the old style too ..."

Night game #1 at Wrigley last Tuesday night. Cubs win in a dramatic comeback in the bottom of the 7th over Milwaukee. So much fun I went back for a second game...and a second taste of Old Style! Beer, that is, not to be confused with Peter, Bjorn, and John, who seem to be on permanent rotation in my head...

Chicago: more memorable than 1991

I spent this past week in Chicago, 3.5 days for vacation, 3.5 days for work. Armed with a long list of restaurants and a short list of museums, most of our vacation time was planned even before Jess and I met up at O'Hare at 8 am Sunday morning.
The last time I was in Chicago, other than sprinting through O'Hare for a connecting flight, was in 1991. My family drove to the city on our baseball infused summer vacation. We stopped in Cleveland to see the Red Sox play a doubleheader, and attended games at both Wrigley Field and the "New" Comiskey Park, or US Cellular Field, or whatever it's being called now. We made a side trip in Ohio to visit the Football Hall of Fame, and missed Hurricane Bob which battered Cape Cod as we toured Chicago.
The funny thing is, as I return to places I have been with my parents as an adult, I don't remember too much. I remembered both games at Wrigley and Comiskey Park. I remembered riding the El through the Loop. I remembered being on the tour boats on the Chicago River and Lake Michigan. I couldn't tell you a thing about the Museum of Science and Technology or too much about the Shedd Aquarium. This week, when Jess and I were negotiating in which cultural institution (the Field Museum or the Shedd) we wanted to spend Tuesday, he asked me, "which one did you like better?" I was stymied; I had been to both, but couldn't say a word about either. I knew Jess loves aquariums, so I just said "let's do the Shedd." It's one of the most noted aquariums in the US, and easily accessible from downtown Chicago by express bus.
Sure, I was 13 in 1991, and traipsing through museums with my parents was probably not what I wanted to be doing, but it really bothered me that I couldn't remember even a thing. I think I overcompensating on this visit by making sure I read every placard in each exhibit in both the Museum of Science and Industry and the Shedd.

Aside from the museums, I went to Cubs games this week, two of three games of the Milwaukee Brewers series. We bought Cubs t-shirts and hats at Wrigleyville Sports before the first game in an attempt to blend in with the sea of Cub royal blue in the stands. Following Cubs tradition, we drank Old Style beer and ate ChicagoDogs (much better than the standard hot dogs) while we cheered the Cubs on to two wins over the Brew Crew. The atmosphere at Wrigley is much more subdued than Fenway. The fans are knowledgeable, polite, and not nearly as drunk and rowdy as Red Sox fans (gosh I seem old writing that). The park overall is cleaner and the staff is much more helpful and courteous than Fenway. The tickets are much cheaper as well. Sacrilege as it may seem, the Red Sox could really benefit from implementing some of the Cubs practices at Wrigley. The con is the public transportation to and from the game. Though it is safe and affordable, the subway station is too close to the park to avoid stampede-like crowds post game. The first game, we walked about five blocks toward Chicago on North Halsted and hailed an affordable cab back to downtown. During the second game, we left an inning early (tired from our conference activities) and easily traveled downtown by subway.
While I was excited to walk the city, and take in its architecture, Jesse was much more focused on the food. We went to the Frontera Grill on N. Clark, a restaurant owned by Rick Bayless. Excellent mojitos, tacquitos, and sumptuous chocolate pecan pie. The Weber Grill was also high on our list, a tasty barbecue chain without a franchise in New England. We also stumbled upon the Devon Seafood Grill for brunch. The seafood was so fresh, we dared wondering if it surpassed the quality of some of our favorite spots in Boston. Their mimosas were divine, and we loved the complimentary biscuits accompanying our meal.
Food was not my only guilty pleasure. I made three trips to Nordstrom Rack on State Street in the Loop, the equivalent of Filene's Basement (which was a block away). I found a great dress, and a sweater, and too many other bargains which I knew would not fit in my bag (ahem, cute black peacoat). Jesse loved the furniture district including Room & Board, Bloomingdale's Home and Furniture, and several other furniture galleries located in in the River North area. His favorite was walking the endless hallways of the Merchandise Mart, once the largest commercial building by square footage in the United States, later passed by the Pentagon, it is now home to several designer furniture companies, all flourishing with the condominium boom in Chicago.
A good break, a great conference, and a city which I know I will remember for my hopefully soon return visit.

Returning from Chicago with a broken zipper

I was tired when I returned from Chicago on Saturday night. Tired from networking and connecting with other archivists for the previous three and a half days, tired from lugging my overstuffed suitcase and backpack around O'Hare before my 5:15 flight. My backpack was filled with my computer, magazines, books, cameras, and all that stuff you just don't want to risk in your suitcase.

As I sat in the airport shuttle, I noticed the non-broken zipper of the two zippers on the larger section of my backpack was not staying closed...the tracks were splitting...was the backpack that I had raved about on its way to an untimely demise??? Upon going through security, it received special attention from the TSA folks. All of its contents were strewn on the metal tables, as I watched TSA agents run some sort of swab over it, and then run it again through the screening machine. As I clutched my laptop, I felt powerless...and then I felt annoyed...and then I realized that in the US, bag owners are not allowed to touch their bags or contents during extra screening tests. I half-smiled since any TSA worker who singles me out, has to meticulously repack my always overstuffed backpack. If you're going to pick me out, you're going to work! This is a lesson a screener learned the hard way in Dublin, when my suitcase was pulled out randomly for extra screening as I stood in the check-in line, and in her frustration, she appealed to me with a look of desperation as if saying, how did you get all this in your bag! I stood back then, reluctant to touch my stuff as you can't go near your bag in the US. That didn't appear to be the norm in Ireland.

After clearing security, swishing from left to right on my back as I chased three gate changes at O'Hare, and resting in the overhead compartment on the plane back to Boston, my bag stayed closed until arriving at baggage claim...when it split open on my back. I quickly zipped it closed, but noticed the ends of the zipper track again fraying open. A trip to Freeport is now on my docket...to get it functioning as soon as possible. So, the green backpack is temporarily out of commission, but its purple non-monogrammed twin will fill in just fine.

meet my backpack...

So my backpack and I were united in October 1994. It was a 17th birthday present...oddly enough. It was the middle of the grunge phase, and at my school everyone had one glued to their backs. Both straps over both arms, because it was now socially okay to do that, not just the over one shoulder thing that seemed to have evolved in the mid 1980s. I used it everyday to school, and then every day in college.

When I got to grad school, I thought it'd go into semi-retirement, only working on holiday. I had a messenger bag. And my backpack was only for the days when I had too much stuff to carry for work. I grew out of the messenger bag thing, and I matured into the tote bag thing for work...that's my work bag status now. But whenever I want to hit the gym after work, the backpack is the bag of choice. Since I work in a place where our bags are checked upon leaving, my backpack always gets checked, but my other bags not so much. Considering I walk 2 miles to work and back everyday, I must state that I make better time with my backpack than any other bag I own.

It's got some advantages: fits under airline seats, lots of pockets, can hold clothes for 5 days, still works even with a broken zipper (need to contact LL Bean about that)

It's been some really cool places with me, and some I bet it wishes it never had been dragged.

Furthest away: Hobart, Tasmania
Closest: work, school (as in high school, college)
Best: Bondi Beach, Sydney
Worst: Great Barrier Reef during a severe bout of seasickness
Most recognizable: Rennes, France. No one used backpacks in France in 1997. There were 60 US high school students in the city, and we could 'em out (and vice versa) with their backpacks (LL Bean Deluxe Book Pack, just like mine)
Hottest: Negev Desert
Coldest: Walking to work this winter in Boston
First time on a plane: Boston-London (via Brussels) in a suitcase
Last time on a plane: Boston-Indianapolis
Next time on a plane: Boston-Chicago tomorrow
Most crowded place: Indianapolis 500
Least populated: Mýrdalsjökull glacier, Iceland--it stayed in the van, but it was there...
First time sniffed by police dogs: baggage claim in Hobart. No importing of fresh food from other states, without declaration.
Best trip as solo bag, not in a supporting role: Toussaint vacation, Brussels, Amsterdam, Berlin, Paris, 5 days.
Most socially awkward: accompanying me on the school bus as a senior in high school
Hardest to find experience: anytime coming out of the dining halls in college

Its been molded to me since age 17, and still there now that I'm almost 30...that's reliability...maybe it could get in an ad for LLBean?!?!?!