Friday, October 19, 2012

August 28th, 2012

Buzzing at the Newark Airport during a 5 hour layover.  Mostly because this adventure is really happening and because I checked my mail right before leaving home.  To may dismay I had a letter from the collections agency stating that I was expected to pay the cost of that phantom plane ticket I never intended to purchase.  Instead of getting too worked up...okay, so maybe I had to have a mini counseling sesh with mom on the way to the airport, but by the time my bags were checked I decided the letter and any anxiety it delivered would stay in the states until I returned from across the sea.

Somebody somewhere said, "wherever you go, there you are."  Here I am in all my life-is-an-awesome-journey glory sitting in the Newark airport when I get the first call from the collector.  Dun, dun duuuuuun. It may be my collection agency ignorance or numerous calls to insurance agencies for work, but somehow I get the nerve to kindly tell the lady on the other end that I will not be paying for anything at this moment and that I will be discussing it with my lawyer.  I hang up and freak out. (When I freak out I call everyone I know to get help.) First my mom, then I call my accountant/attorney...Blah blah blah. After a 30 min chat we decided I should just pay it when I get home. Begrudgingly that settled it- Now let's go to France!

An in-flight movie, meal and restless plane sleep lands me in Geneva the next morning.  I remember feeling out of place and overwhelmed even in the airport while waiting for my express bus to the Chalet.  I wander the hall looking for a cafe or shop I can feel comfortable going in and chilling for the next hour.  After much internal dialogue and anxiety I finally decide to just sit my butt on the floor, eat my packed snack and read until pick up time.  This, "sit your butt down," method has a familiar ring to it. Some past mantra or...hmmmm. Ah ha!...That good ol' "Sit. Stay" of my Mac&Cheese days.  They say life is just one opportunity after another to learn the same lesson. They be right. This time the anxiety was less about sexual desires but the method of coping was the same. I find out later that I will get some more practice when I have a mini existential crisis in Florence.

Five hours later, the ChamExpress lands me at the chalet and into the welcoming arms of my yoga instructor and lovely British Host. Surrounded by the exquisite French alps anxiety and stress become like childhood wounds long forgotten (but never far).  We will call said British Host, "Love Bug".  It only took 24 hours for me to start speaking with a loud British accent. Which is about 1/2 the time it took my roomie to find another kind of love with Mr. Love Bug.  Let's be honest though, who could resist a man with a British accent and popped collar making you fresh croissants every morning with nutella. God bless him.

Rain is in the forecast but my first day in the clean air of the french alps, walking the river path and dining on wine and cheese makes me think I may just survive this life after all.  Plus, for just this weekend, there are approximately 7000 extra men in Chamonix.  To my dismay they are all jogging some ridiculous distance through rain, snow and mud without sleep for the better part of their stay.   It's the North Face Ultra Trail and the gentlemen are ultra fit and ultra type A. (We all know where that has gotten me in the past). I did enjoy cheering on those that did the "mini trail", 80km/8000 meters up and down. That's about 2 marathons, which is two too many for this chic.

There is fresh snow on the higher peaks that line the valley.  Breathing the air makes me realize I haven't taken a fresh breath of air since my last trip to Boulder.  It's clean and crisp and beacons me to become an alpine chalet owner/retreat assistant for life.  Pretty much the place is heaven and I could be happy to stay forever, or until it gets to cold. Unless, of course, a man comes along to warm me through the winter season, then I'm in for life.  Tomorrow is the real love affair- my first taste of Italia!  


Ciao Bellas!

Love,
Uptown Girl