The Beginning…
I did not take a summer vacation last year, and I’ve only left PS 260 for a week since I started, oh, almost three years ago.
So when I heard my good friends John Mclane and Dan Baum cavorting about a trip to the old country, I knew my time had come.
Disregarding an off the cuff prohibition against vacations longer than a week, I bought my ticket for a full two weeks of fun.
(It felt good to know that I slaved myself, working anytime they needed me, doing all the crazy runner tasks for so long, basically donating my life to this company for three years, and now I had no fear in asking for something back. I am a needed player, and I can’t abuse that, make too much of a power move, but I can say that I deserve a full two weeks once in a while and take it.)
So without further ado… Let the Adventure Begin! We were off, John for the first time. Me, this would make lucky number three.
Two losers with neck pillows.
The flight went by pretty smoothly. John never even left his seat. We arrived in one piece.
Daniel, leaving from Dirty Jersey arrived half an hour earlier, but forgot to take down our flight number. The lady told him he had about 15 flights to chose from, most in different terminals. One of the cardinal rules of traveling that I have learned sounds like this: It Usually All Works Out. And so it did. Upon landing, Baum got his bag and walked over to the other baggage claim where he found us, just arrived.
Belle Paree, we are one again. And what better way to start (or continue) our day than by drinking duty free vodka on the train into the city.
We tried to check into our wonderful Hotel Voltaire.
But they didn’t let us, too early. So we dropped our bags, and we were off to the races. With just one day in France, we hit the Tour Eiffel view.
On the way to the wondrous Musee D’Orsee.
Where the elephants roam.
I fucking love this place. 
So many masters.
I have a whole series planned like this, Dustin and The Arts. But later.
That penthouse hallway of the D’Orsee might just be my favorite of all Museumdom. The pre- during and post- impressionists, in all their glory, I love them.
Did I say the elephants roamed, I really meant the rhinos. They got balls, man.
Undaunted, we trudged on to the next great house of art, The infamous Louvre.
Where we sped through the saucy Venus.
And hit the coyest work of them all, that overrated bitch, La Jacond.
Okay… gotta go. I swear I’ll finish this shit at some point.
Recent Comments