What, me worry?

This is going to be a really long entry (or a really short one if this wi-fi card runs out), so I will put it into chapters- so as to create more edible bites for you people.

Chapter the First

So, it was Friday at 4am, and Ruta drove me to the airport. I was scarred and nervous and not sure if I was even going to get to New York, much less France since I was flying standby. Needless to say, I made it out. New York was great (and it seems like a million years ago). I arrived and talked to everyone I could think of on my cell, since I won't have a cell phone for the rest of the year. It's like I'm in 8th grade again. Wow, no cell. Weird. Anyway, I went into New York and headed where anyone who knows anything at all about New York goes when you only have three hours and need something to eat: Zabars. It is my favorite deli on the upper west side, and I go everytime I'm in the city. I had an egg salad sandwhich and a vegetarian tofurkey salad with a pepsi. It was the best egg salad sandwhich I've ever had. Granted, I've had like three in my life, but regardless...
I sat in the park and watched the runners and cyclists and unicyclists and the Korean kids playing dodgeball with eacheother (there were only two kids, so when the one kid hit the other, the game was over, and they just went home. It was intense). I really love New York, and I thought, "I had better suck this up now because it's Adios Americanos for the next five months." So, I sat in the sun and just hung out. It was awesome. I already miss home.
So, finally I'm done eating and head for JFK. I got there early, and went to check in to find a line longer than I thought imaginable. I finally got through it and got to my gate only to find that it had started raining, and other people from other flights with baby piolts who are "too scarred to take off in the big bad rain" were being transfered to MY plane. And yes, it is MY plane. I own it.
Anyway, I also found out that I was 15th on the list to get on the plane, so my chances of getting on were, to quote the flight lady, "um.... well.... I think, um..... we'll see."
I waited for an hour, called Natalie who called friends so I could stay with them in the city if I didn't make the flight, called Ruta, bought a snikcers, and did Sudoku to calm my thoughts. An hour later, they announce that I did make the plane, and "unfortunately" there were no seats available in coach, so I would "have to sit" in first class. "Unfortunately"- like, since I'm flying standby, I'm obvviously too poor to appreciate the wonders of first class. Let me tell, you: I am not.
I sat down, and no sooner did ass hit chair, than a woman was asking if I preferred a mimosa or "just champagn." I opted for "just champagne." Later she brought me a china bowl that she had warmed with some toasted nuts and a beer. I pulled the television out of the arm rest and had my choice of like, all the movies that have ever been made or WILL ever be made. I chose "Blades of Glory" for its cultural relevance. It was superb, as I expected.
Later, Plane Lady asked if I was hungry for dinner. Note: she did not say, "Here is your box of warmed brown sludge that we are passing off as 'veggie lasagna' from 1984." She wanted to know if I was hungry. I told her, "Listen Plane Lady, you obviously dont know me, because I am always hungry." So, she gave me the menu, and I ordered the mixed greens and vinaigrette, the summer squash ravioli in a brown butter sauce and the cheese plate. She brought it all out on real china with a nice linen tray-table cloth. Later, after my third glass of a nice Spanish red (I had my choice of 6 wines), she asked me if I would like to watch her make me a sundae. It was the most perverse thing I had ever heard in my life. She presented said sundae in a large chilled bowl and said, "There, I added carmel sauce too, just in case you like that." I told her that I had brought a snickers from the airport, just in case they didn't have anything vegetarian. She giggled and told me I was cute.
It was then that we fell deeply and madly in love.

Hours later, the plane landed, and I stepped out into my new home. I grabbed my luggage and headed for customs with my passport, visa, social security information, a copy of my insurance card, my drivers license, a bank statement and a picture of my dog (in case). I presented myself to the customs lady, and she took my passport and stamped it so quickly, she almost missed. SHE DIDN'T EVEN LOOK AT MY VISA. She is my mortal enemy now. All that visa stuff, and she couldn't have cared less. That woman is dead to me.

I got on the Navette (French for hotel shuttle) and headed to the Hyatt.