On Saturday, my friend Ann, was baptized. She wanted to do it old school style in a lake. So, we jaunted off to the local water hole. It went off, more or less, without a hitch, but it was by far the oddest baptism I have ever attended.

Just as she was being dunked we noticed the posted sign stating that in this section of the lake it is forbidden to swim or be in the water. So her first act as a Christian was to break the local law!

This being a public lake, and in the free thinking land of France, many of the ladies (young and old) were bathing in the sun without a top. It was quite an odd experience to take part of a religious ceremony and then to walk a few yards and see naked breasts!

She wanted to have a picnic afterwards, and so we walked around finding a non naked spot of land in which we could lunch. Many family members were present, and being both French and non Christians they brought plenty of wine. There are no strict rules in the church against partaking in a little wine, but most American versions make a big frown at the big A(lcohol). As the wine and champagne was offered around there were a lot of red faced shakes of the head.

I thought some of the American missionaries-in-training were going to drop dead on the spot, with all of that hedonism afoot. Me, I began to think that France was finally doing something right!

We finally saw Revenge of the Sith on Tuesday. I have decided that I will not be writing any kind of review. I am well behind on my review writing, and there are only about 18 billion reviews of this movie elsewhere.

I will say that I rather liked it. I went in with rather low expectations and was rather delighted that the film was actually pretty good. The dialogue was pretty rotten, of course. The acting was much better than the last two, but this isn’t really saying much. I’d say the talented cast did a fair job of acting and a very decent job of making poor writing tolerable. The action was good, if sometimes poorly filmed. Too many close-ups, too many fights in cramped spaces.

As a long-time fan, it was an often moving experience witnessing scenes that I have dreamed of seeing for many a year.

We went to Kehl again today. I bought some blank CDs (50 for 10 Euros!). We have quite a collection of blank discs to take back with us now. With my obsession for downloading live music, my obsession for taking pictures of every conceivable thing twice, and our tendency to burn the discs we borrow from the library, we’ve managed to fill two spindles full of burned disks.

I was also a very good husband today. I generally loathe shopping, especially with Amy. It has gotten to the point where I generally refuse to go with her because it usually ends up in a fight. Today I let her cut loose and look at every little thing her heart desired. We went from store to store browsing everything and trying on more than I care to remember. I even let her pick out one outfit and make the purchase.

German dressing rooms are a bit less private than their American counterparts. They have individual little booths for everyone to change clothes, but they are right on the floor, as opposed to a side room. Most of the little booths have big curtains that theoretically cover up the entire booth. However, in reality, they are too bulky to shut properly and wind up leaving little cracks in them. The point here is that my wife went into a booth and changed, leaving me standing in the middle of a women’s clothing store all by myself. There I stand trying to look like I’m not looking, while catching all kinds of hateful glances from the other ladies, all thinking ‘what a perv.’ To feel better, and to prove I wasn’t some wandering pervert, but a nice guy taking his gal shopping, I would periodically lean my head into Amy’s booth making observations on her clothing picks.

Amy got her hair cut this evening. It cost a good fortune, but it looks very cute. It’s much shorter than before and is actually just about my length now. Which makes us either really cute or nauseatingly so.

It has been achingly hot here. I knew this would happen when we were all complaining about the general chilly and rainy weather a few weeks ago. It wouldn’t be so miserable if France had learned about the modern technology called an air conditioner. That’s not really true, they know what air conditioning is, I’ve felt it inside the nicer shopping centers. They just don’t equip their apartments with it.

Yes, I am a wimp. Yes, people lived without air conditioning for years and years. Yes, millions of people still live perfectly fine lives without air conditioning in much hotter climates. I am weak, I am a wuss. I want my air conditioning! Amy and I lay on opposite sides of the bed not daring to get near enough to touch, for that would bring too much heat. We sweat, we moan, we complain. Eventually, we nod off and dream of icebergs.

Originally written on May 23, 2005

We have spent the last two days finalizing our “last hurrah.” A few weeks ago we booked the packaged Ireland tour, the flights to and fro, and a place to sleep in Barcelona. It was there we stopped because we were unsure as to where we would like to spend a few days in France. In doing so over the last couple of days, one of the great differences between me and my wife came to light in the most unflattering way.

Amy is a researcher. For the last 6 weeks or so, she has been researching the details of this Barcelona to Strasbourg vacation. She got out all her maps and scoured the entire country for interesting cities. She wore out our guidebook and sifted through the internet for information regarding any and all places to visit. If a city exists with something minutely interesting to see, she found it, researched it, and planned out a possible visit.

She took notes. She searched train schedules, cross-referencing other possible stops to ensure the best possible times and routes. She marked, checked, and rated every city, village, and hut throughout the entire country.

She didn’t, however, make any type of decision. Amy is fantastic at research, and terrible at decision-making. She wants to see EVERYTHING. So, after weeks of looking, she was no closer to having a plan than when she began.

I am the opposite. I make decisions quickly, and sometimes, rather hastily. I sat down last night, after Amy had spent several hours reviewing and revising her notes, and started planning our voyage. We bought a Eurorail pass. Basically, we can travel anywhere in Spain and France on five separate days within a two-month period. We can make multiple stops during one travel day, but once that day is over, so is the day’s ticket. Now, I know we want to go to Paris for a couple of days, and we will be returning to Strasbourg. Two tickets are gone, right there. That left us three travel days.

Looking at Amy’s notes I quickly surmised that she wanted to visit the Southern province of Provence. I quickly chose a city that seemed interesting and was far enough away from the highly crowded beach resorts. Montpelier is the name. From there Amy gave me two choices for our next stop. Skimming the pages in the guidebook I again quickly decided on Arles because it contains both some Roman ruins and was where Van Gogh lived for a time. Our next stop was easy because we had already decided we wanted to travel to Tours so that we could do some castle tours.

In a manner of 15 minutes, I had made decisions that Amy had been killing herself over for weeks.

She was not particularly happy with my quick decision-making. Yet, she was not sure in which manner to attack me. Her first approach was to complain that it seemed like we were rushing from place to place too quickly. It is true that we were planning to see a lot of countryside in a very short amount of time. It is the nature of this type of traveling. I explained that with this type of tour, we had to move quickly through each city in order to see more things. On several occasions we will be traveling to a city in the morning, touring in the afternoon, and then traveling to the next city that evening. We simply don’t have the money or the time to spend a long time in each city. Besides, many of these smaller cities can easily be toured in a day, and any extra stay would become dull.

Without pausing for the irony, she then complained that we weren’t seeing enough cities. I reminded her that she just complained that we were moving too quickly and that it certainly wouldn’t slow us down to add more cities onto the itinerary. There is little leeway to add more days to our tour because we simply have to get back in order to pack up and fly back to the States. She then accepted my explanations, though adding in some sulk.

I must admit that Amy did a marvelous job of researching everything, which made my job of decision-making so much easier.

The difference noted here, highlights the general differences in our life outlook. Amy is very thorough, detail-oriented, and great at research. When she goes grocery shopping she looks over every single item of food. She checks the ingredients, net weight, and price and then compares each with similar items in the aisle. After a close inspection of each item, she then picks one out for purchase. It’s the same in clothes shopping. She inspects each rack, checking out styles, sizes, and colors. She runs a mental check for matching items already in her closet, then keeps an eye out for additional matches within the store. She chooses a large selection of potentials and tries them on. The try-ons get sorted into stacks according to their cuteness, price, and how they fit. When items do not fit just right they are taken back and different sizes are sought out. This goes on for eternity. It doesn’t even matter if she actually has money to make the purchase, she will look for hours with no intention of actually walking out of the store with anything.

This wears me out to no end. When I shop, I do a slow walk through my section. If something catches my eye I pull it out checking price, size, and wearability. If I get a match on all three, I will take it in for a one-time tryout. I have never flipped through all the clothes within a rack. If I dig one item on the rack I will give it a good once over and then move on. If it takes me more than half an hour to shop for clothes I am disheartened.

It is like this in nearly everything. Amy is thorough and detailed. Which reads slow to me. I am quick and decisive. Which reads rash to Amy.

Despite these differences, we manage to get along quite nicely. I let her go shopping with the girls, and she lets me make the final decision on where we’re going to vacation.

—

On top of the two-day long process of reserving our vacation the rest of the day was rather lousy. I had a horrible French class due mainly to my bad attitude stemming from the vacation planning. I have also moved up a level, so to speak, in my language learning. I suddenly feel like I am back on day one. The last several weeks have been mainly reviewing lessons on what I have already studied. These lessons make me feel good about my language acquisition. I actually seem to know the answers. Now that I’ve been upgraded, everything is new again. The vocabulary has expanded, and the grammar has become more difficult. My head is sullenly resting in my hands again, and my answers become disenchanted mumbles.

After class, I did the unfortunate thing of checking my credit card balance. Not good! I hate debt. I hate being in debt. Europe has slowly depleted our savings and put us in a great deal of debt. We’re certainly not broke. We will manage quite nicely. Bills will be paid and payments will be made on the card. It just feels miserable to feel like you owe a huge amount.

To top things off I missed seeing Star Wars. I intentionally put off seeing the film this weekend because I was going to see it with Daniel tonight. He did not want to see it with 8 million other folks this weekend, and I agreed to hold off until Monday night. Unfortunately, something came up and he was unable to go anyway. We got to the theatre only to find that our scheduled showing was in French. The next English language showing wasn’t until much later. By the time much later rolled around, Amy decided she was too pooped to view.

There is always tomorrow, I suppose.

Amy’s department at the university had a picnic yesterday evening. Well, first they had a game of football (that’s soccer to us Yanks) which Amy and I were conveniently very late to, causing us to have to sit out and not play. The picnic was a very casual affair with everyone bringing their favorite dishes and sitting right smack on the grass. We had lots of quiches, pastas and vegetables. There was plenty of wine and beer to go around. The French mindset on the consumption of alcohol is very much different than the American concept. The only people drinking water or juice was the smallest of children. When Amy got up and poured a glass of orange juice she was heralded with a barrage of questions and jokes.

“You put vodka in that right?”

“What are you doing? Oh no, we’re out of wine!?!”

And so forth.

They literally could not understand an adult woman not guzzling down wine or beer with her meal.

We packed our first bag today. Our American friend, Pamela, is flying back to the States to be at her brother’s wedding. She kindly offered to take one of our suitcases along with her. She can ship it to Amy’s folks at a cost much less than we could do the same from France. We’re working on a few other folks who will be making similar trips in the next few months. It’s not that we’ve accumulated that much additional stuff while here. But, the French airline is stricter with luggage limitations than the American airlines were when we came here.

It feels weird to be packing things up in preparation for our return.