I have been shirking my blogging responsibilities. I apologize. It took me a while to get out of vacation mode and get back to sitting at the computer.

(As for what provided the impetus... well, there's nothing like discovering a deadline is much, much closer than you had thought. Ulp.)

I've spent the past several days getting work done and running those stupid, necessary little errands that should be easy but end up taking forever. Sigh. I much preferred lying on a chaise lounge on the deck of the barge as we tooled down the Canal du Midi in France, relaxing with a staff of four at my beck and call.

Not that I becked or called. I was actually a little freaked out by the staff thing. I kept wanting to ask if I could do anything, if they needed help with the dishes, anything like that. I don't take well to being a parasite, I guess.

So, more France stuff:

• Ultimate Inner Geek moments: Wandering around the almost silent, near-empty walls of Mont Saint Michel as the sun set (at about 10 p.m.), thinking dragons and knights and other geekly things. It's amazing. I didn't think anything could top it. And then we went to Carcassonne, the largest walled fortress in Europe. It was crowded and touristy, but hell, I was staying inside the walls of a castle. My little geek heart went pitter-pat.
  
• Most humbling moment: Going for a hike up a mountain with Anne Se. the guide and my family. I expected Anne Se, Amy and Jorge to make me look bad, but when my 58-year-old mother, 61-year-old father and six-month pregnant sister all had an easier time of it.... Oy. Maybe those pain au chocolates for breakfast weren't the best idea. Then we ran into some old guy who rode his mountain bike up a slope we were having trouble walking. Whimper.
  
• Major purchases: Sadly, books. In English. Big ones. I went on a French literature/history kick when I was there. I got a short Travellers History of France (which got left on the barge so I didn't have to schlepp it home), A Tale of Two Cities (ditto), Gargantua and Pantagruel by Rabelais (at Jorge's urging), the Count of Monte Cristo (happy, Tripp?), Decision in Normandy and Orwell in Spain. (Which isn't French. Huh. But I did get it at the WWII memorial in Caen, so it kind of counts.) The guy at Skakespeare and Co. -- a pretty kick-ass book store -- did mention that French people did, in fact, write some short, easily transportable books, but I chose to ignore him.

Right, I must move away from the computer as an ice cream truck that is playing "The Entertainer" over and over and over again is parked right outside my window, and if I don't get away from it my head will explode. Grrr. Welcome back

Welcome back, Sarah.

Thanks to everyone for reading, and a tip of the chapeaux to Mr. Sachleben for being clever enough to know who I was just from my natterings. (I was not clever enough to disguise my e-mail return address such that it didn't read "Rob Palmer" on the translated from line, so those intrepid readers that sent me e-mail also got replies that lifted my mask.)

And Sarah, I expect a defense of Olympic ice skating as a sport (viz. the Russian mobster wannabe fixing the judging) once your Bordeaux hangover clears.

With that, I bid you all au revoir.

OK, which one of you asked for a mock-me post? Harumph.

I'm back. I'm dealing with a hell of a lot of mail, even more laundry, and an exceedingly needy cat. Wendy tells me Bug spent the two weeks sprawled out on the clothes I decided not to pack. Given the amount of cat hair, I believe her.

But you don't care about the cat hair. you want to know about France, right? I'm too tired to give you the whole rundown, so here's my theoretical FAQ:

Q: How was France?
A: Fabulous, thanks.

Q: How was your French?
A: Well, I could get by, but it was a hell of a lot easier letting one of the fluent people do the talking.

Q: Run into any rude French people?
A: A few. Most people were amazingly friendly and helpful, but there were a few nasty folks. I tend to look at them as tourist attractions: "Look! An authentic snotty Parisian! Quick, take a picture!" It really pisses them off.

Q: Did you get sunburned?
A: As I am of the pastey persuasion, yes. I even managed to get sunburned in Paris. This is something of a feat.

Q: Did you get drunk?
A: Hello, I was in France. Wine, Kir, Pastis, all the rest. So, hell yeah.

Q: Drunk enough to humiliate your sisters?
A: No, but I can do that without the aid of alcohol.

Q: Drunk enough to flirt with waiters?
A: See, here's the problem: Most of the time I was eating out with my drop-dead gorgeous sister. So I barely existed. Having said that, I managed when I ate on my own, and also with passport control functionaries in the airport. Why are all the hot men working at CDG all of a sudden?

Q: Did you get laid?
A: Look, I was sharing a room with my sister, then on a boat with my entire family. What do you think?

Q: Did you buy cool clothes?
A: Aforementioned hot sister is a size 6 or 8 in the US. She ended up fitting in size larges and extra-larges in Paris. Apparently, fat people need to have clothes airlifted in to Paris, as everyone there is emaciated.

Q: Did you eat well?
A: Hell yeah! Cheese, chocolate, wine.....Wait, are you implying something?

Q: Not at all. So, um, did you hit the museums and sites?
A: Louvre, Cluny (museum of the middle ages), Sainte Chappelle (amazing stained glass windows), Picasso, Rodin (love the sculpture garden), Notre Dame, Place des Vosge, Jardins de Luxemborg, Jardin de Tulieries, Ile Saint Louis, bateau mouche at night... it kicked ass.

Q: Anything outside Paris?
A: Went to Mont Saint Michel on Sunday, which I loved. Went to the WWII museum in Caen, which was also great. (Transport connections got messed up, so I didn't get to go to the Normandy beaches.) Then the whole family met up and we went down to Carcassonne and the barge.

Q: Was the barge as fabulous as it sounds?
A: Even better.... but more on that later. The cat is being needy again.