When I say I don't like to talk about myself, I mean it in the sense that I don't really like to talk about myself. I would rather ask you questions and listen. If you spend 3 weeks in Europe, I want to hear what you did and what you saw and how you felt. I just don't assume that you want to hear it from me.
However, I guess there are times that perhaps I should share stories with people - obviously I never told some of my best friends about rapelling in Assisi.
Looking back, I can't believe I did it. I mean, I'm not really the "outdoorsy" type if you know what I mean. (But I'm so glad I did.)
To make matters worse, not too long ago, I was talking to my parents about the time I got tear-gassed in France after they beat Brazil in the World Cup and they were all... What?!?!? So apparently I never shared that story either. If ANYONE is going to listen to your long stories and look at all 400 of your pictures, it should be your parents. But apparently I was just too worn out to fill anybody besides Larry in. I should really do this story justice, as it was AWESOME....
France was in the World Cup, playing Brazil. This was the game where the French guy head-butted the other team, do you remember that? Well, France won. I was at my "home-stay" with a French woman in Marseilles, and she barely spoke any English. I do not speak any French. (aside from "la plage," which means "the beach." I learned how to say that so I could ask people which way to walk.)
So anyway, I actually got really into this soccer game, even though it was the first one I've ever watched in my life. When France won, she made the motions like - let's go drive around and celebrate!!! So, I'm all - let's go!!! We hop into her tiny little "speck" car and drive downtown, where it is MADNESS. We go into a bar and get a drink and there are people just everywhere, celebrating. Eventually, some idiots start a fire in the street, which apparently calls for police in riot gear. Who TEAR GAS everybody in sight. We had to cover our faces with our shirts - and yes, it makes your eyes tear up really bad. We waited in the bar for a little bit, but then my hostess said - "Let's Go... RUN!" And I followed her. We were running through the streets, but every once in awhile she would say "STOP!" and I would stop and we would hide. (I have no idea what was really going on, but there were all sorts of people running and hiding so I assume we were doing the right thing.) Anyway, we finally made it back to her car and went home. Talk about an adrenaline high. I think it was just like 11pm in France, so it was about 4pm in Texas. I called Larry and was all, "I got tear-gassed!" Seriously, it was a pretty memorable evening - and I have a horrible memory. Here was the newspaper the next morning:
I was just looking through all my pictures and it brought it all back. i can't believe that I probably never told you about being on the London Eye and seeing the city from 443 feet in the air:
And did I tell you about being at Omaha Beach, picturing the sand covered with the dead bodies of our soldiers? (one of those very humbling moments where you are so grateful to be an American.)
Or being in the Palace of Versailles, in awe of it's luxury and beauty?
Surely I told you about being in Cannes and seeing Chuck Norris' palm print in the sidewalk...And if I didn't tell you, maybe you at least felt a nice warm glow when I said a prayer for you at the Cathedral of Notre Dame?Surely I mentioned the majestic Sistene chapel? I never understood just how truly amazing it was - and how small it was - until I stood in the room and stared at the ceiling.
In contrast, I never realized how ginormous St. Peter's Basilica was.
Finally, I should have told you about basically missing the tour of the Coliseum because I had to find a bathroom. Notice my pink "Italia" shirt? Italy was playing in the final game of the World Cup that day.