I know the way to San Jose
And from Jerusalem, it is very, very long. Thirty-one hours door-to-door, to be exact. By the time I arrived at my sister's house, I felt like something the cat had dragged in after it had been smushed by a truck. But I'm here, safe, and got a night of sleep and a shower since arriving, so am feeling better.
'Twas so nice to travel with Yael from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv to Paris to Dallas! She is one great travel companion.
No details right now, but I just want it on the record that De Gaulle airport sucks, many (though not all) of the people who work there are mean rude hateful people who suck, and being stuck there for five hours did nothing at all to make me any less inclined to make mercilessly tasteless jokes about the French. So there, you yucky De Gaulle airport! And no I will not spend $13.50 on a container of orange juice! And note to the obnoxious kid working in passport control: I am living my dream of being a freelance journalist, and Yael helps people stay healthy all day, and you, you yucky obnoxious kid, are stamping passports in De Gaulle airport. So who's got the power now, meathead?
Ahem. I'm fine.
Note to self: The next time American Airline puts you in the middle of a row, and you request a seat change, and the only other seat available is in the back row next to the window, keep the middle seat. I spent four hours from Dallas to San Jose with no view (engine), and a loud humming in my ear (engine). So not fun.
Note to friends: My VOIP phone is not yet plugged in. In my packing haste I neglected to pack 2 cords that I need; we're going to Fry's on Sunday to replace them. Will keep you updated.
Shabbat shalom from sunny California.
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