By the way

With the help of my father and co-conspirator, I snuck home for Thanksgiving and stunned the rest of the family.

My adventures in getting from Grenoble to Paris' Charles de Gaulle airport deserve a separate paragraph. I'll try to summarize briefly: let's just say it involved 10pm flunkyball, 5am train ride to Paris, frantic search for non-existent Air France coach to airport, sharing a cheap, fast and comfortable taxi to Charles de Gaulle with three French wome and successfully convincing French authorities that just because my ticket has my first and last names mixed up, I'm still the same person. I heaved an enormous sigh of relief once I was on the plane and was able to sprawl out in the empty seat next to me. My adrenaline was still pumping when I landed in Chicago NINE hours later, though I would fall asleep during the brief hop to Indy. Dad picked me up with his usual punctuality.

Dad, Mom and Dan had dinner reservations but Dad used a ruse about having to go do an estimate to leave the house alone. He picked me up from the airport and called Mom and asked her and Dan to meet him directly at the restaurant ; he said he'd had a car accident and would be running a little behind. Liar! We arrived 10 minutes before them and were able to get settled at our table. Dad had to hold his menu over his mouth to hide his chuckling and I just stared contemplatively at mine, with my back to the entrance. Mom walked by, with her nose slightly upturned. She later explained she hadn't recognized me from behind and felt indignant that Dad had invited someone to dinner without informing her. As she walked by, she glanced at me and stared, completely stunned, for several seconds. Know the expression "she did a double-take?" Mom did a quadruple-take -- and then the game was up and we beamed and embraced and tried to avoid crying while the entire restaurant grinned. Dan was equally astounded and we gave each other strong hugs. The rest of the meal felt surreal and we often randomly broke out into smiles and laughter.

I loved returning home. It felt so strange to be surrounded by so many American accents which are in such short supply here. I occasionally had moments where I thought, "Wow, this isn't as interesting. I understand EVERYTHING everyone's saying," but they were fleeting. Mom indulged me with home-cooked meal after home-cooked meal, with pancakes, Belgian waffles, French toast, sausage and scrambled eggs galore; it's been 48 hours since I returned to France and despite having only a granola bar, sandwich, raisins and in-flight meal I don't feel hungry in the slightest. Thanksgiving was spectacular. I can still smell and taste the delicious turkey, stuffing, creamed corn, mashed potatoes a la Dad, green bean casserole, warm apple sauce, pumpkin and apple pies.

We all saw the new Harry Potter movie - I fell asleep for less than 10 minutes, I promise - and enjoyed it. A carefully limited excursion to the mall on Friday let us take advantage of post-Thanksgiving specials without being sucked into the usual fashion black hole. I enjoyed shopping without the constant scrutiny of store security personnel. Driving came back instantly, though I annoyed Dan by making constant comparisons between the TL batmobile and my former BMW mistress (always siding, of course, with the latter). I spent Saturday afternoon with my friends at BW3s. It's likely to be the last time we're all together until next July - an odd feeling. I would've devoured the boneless chicken wings in seconds if they hadn't been so hot.

The return trip provided ample opportunity to sleep; there was an hour delay on the Indianapolis tarmac while we waited for traffic at O'Hare to clear up. The pilot reassured us that "if we're backed up, so is everyone else," but I was skeptical - with good reason, I found, as I ran off the plane and discovered that there was 15 minutes remaining before my Paris flight left. Worried I'd have to go through customs, immigration or some other nonsense, I was enormously relieved to discover that the plane was in the same terminal and only a few gates away from mine. I sprinted and the check-in desk attendant greeted me by name... I think I almost had a backpack strap caught in the door as it closed behind me. I mostly slept on the plane, reflected fondly on my brief sejour home and watched Intolerable Cruelty - quite a good performance by Mr. Clooney! Took the dreaded Air France coach bus to Paris Gare de Lyon train station, grabbed a train to Lyon and waited there for the 8pm Coldplay concert - details and pics coming soon!