Traverse City Adventures

Wow! After months of reading blogs I can now say I actually contributed...
In fact, figuring this out might qualify as my first adventure!

This past Saturday, July 14, I finished my first 15K in 84 minutes. That sounds better than saying an hour and 24 minutes! Anyway, it was a good race with great, cool weather and a beautiful course along East and West bays. BUT, I found out today from another runner that I missed out on getting a special button given out at the end that read "I conquered Mt McKinley." (For those of you outside TC, part of the course includes McKinley hill, which did seem more like Mt McKinley on race day.)

Hope everyone is well... I haven't seen any contributions from Jill, yet. I'd really like to hear about adventures in pregnancy :)

So long for now!
-Jenn

The girl's of The Girl's Adventures will be the first to know (besides camp friends) that I chopped my hair off! My friend Marcie, who I met at camp, loves to cut hair, so I let her cut mine! It's a couple inches below my chin in front and shorter in the back. Eventually I'll put up pictures. I'm still getting used to it, but i think I like it.

I am loving camp miniwanca, and the people, the beach, the sunsets, the sand, the breeze, the kids, and the extra free time I have to be creative! I recently was inspired by one of Monet's paintings (the one with the red poppys--I think your favorite one Aunt Barbie?). I decided to paint it in watercolor.

This morning I went running with Marcie, a 3-mile loop. We are going running/walking again tomorrow morning, except on the beach this time!

I absolutely love my job! I couldn't be happier with a summer job. The kids I play with everyday are great. I'm never bored! It isn't even comparable to the dreadful job last summer at Sonic Drive-in Hamburgers.

--will post more adventures later!

love you all and Happy Birthday MOM!!! <3
xoxoxoxoxooxoxo

The Shopping Day Quote

The Next Quote that made it into my Paris Diary

One thing I really wanted to do when I went to Paris was shop. I always want to shop….but I REALLY wanted to shop in the central axis of the fashion world. So, late in the week Mady and I orchestrated an outing to Bon Marche, the oldest department store in Paris (thanks to Ricky for that fact). The store was magnificent – way better than Wal-mart. Really, this department store was a piece of art in itself. Grand brass railings flanking wide staircases, thirty-foot ceilings sporting impressive moldings, splendid toilettes, and gorgeous, expensive, stylin' clothing!! OMG!! While I couldn’t afford a thing (well, there was a can of shoe polish I thought about buying) I could look (no touching allowed according to the signs), as long as I didn’t drool on the fabrics. The menopausal seamstresses of the family (Vic, Kath, Barb, me) stopped repeatedly to study and remark about the intricate craftsmanship of some of the garments. Fashionista Mady kept remarking about how beautiful everything was and how one day soon she would return to buy some of these glorious body coverings. But, Marlena, not seeing much value in our window-shopping, stated, “Why are we looking at this stuff if we can’t buy it?” To which Mady quickly quipped, “We looked at art all day yesterday at the Louvre and you couldn’t buy it!”

Entry 3 – Quote 3 that made it into my Paris Diary

Midweek we headed to the Louvre, the Orangerie, and Montmartre. I found the Louvre impressively underwhelming. This could have been somewhat the fault of my audio tour guide, the famed and self-professed “I-know-everything-you-could-ever want-to know-about-Paris,” Rick Steves. By the end of the day, Tara, Marlena, and Mady (okay, me too) were heard irreverently referring to him as “The Rickster,” “Ricky Bobby” and “Ricky Booby.” (Ask Tara for the scoop on that one!) The fact that I had to listen to Ricky’s chatter while hooked to Mady’s Ipod via a splitter and two-foot-long headphones probably didn’t help with my impudent attitude. The ipod leash made me feel like a tourist competing in a never-ending three-legged race. Anyway, once at the Orangerie, I ditched the earphones and had a much better experience. At this museum, diminutive compared to The Louvre, I had one of my climactic moments: analyzing the Kurilli exhibit with Marlena and Tara. At first glance Kurilli’s artwork looks like big pieces of Lincoln Logs, painted white, green, and blue and set out to look like a cemetery about 15 feet by 15 feet. What a joke, I thought! I could make this – wondering at the same time who I might get to pay me to do so. I plopped down in Kurilli’s wooden garden and waited for the rest of the group to get done with their tour. Bored, I started to lightly analyze what was in front of me. In minutes I came up with an intriguing (at least to me) explanation; Kurilli was trying to illustrate how everyone in our world is connected, yet separated, all at the same time. Then Marlena joined my sit-in and I asked her what she thought she was looking at. She thought Kurilli’s exhibit represented all the bigotry in the world. Then Tara sat down. She too came up with a story that brought sense to these colored logs. We were having such a good time that we had to be dragged from our perch. The true meaning of art had touched my heart. Then we were onto the Metro for our last attraction of the day – a walk through the neighborhood of Montmartre. In this quaint, hilly part of Paris we saw authentic artists drawing portraits at their easels and hoards of horny people in line to see the burlesque show at the Moulin Rouge. During a hike up the nearly straight up, three-mile-hill (remember, never let facts get in the way of a good story!) to reach the Sacre Coeur church, Kath, Mady, Marlena, and I stopped halfway up to put our aching feet in the cool fountain water. (Vic, Barb, and Tara opted to take a bus which they soon found didn’t exist.) After graciously admiring each others painted toenails, Mady, who was wearing a very sweet sundress, turned around to put her sandals on and in doing so inadvertently revealed her underthings. And thus came the most insightful quote of the day, spoken by Kathleen, “I see London, I see France, I see someone’s underpants.” Yes, indeedy, we did see many wonderful things in Paris that day.

Victoria's version of the pickpocket story

Hello Readers (if there are any!),

Lynda started us off to some good stories from Paris ... Here are a few additions and perspectives to the adventure on the top of the Arc de Triumph: (Wish I had a pic of the Arc to insert here :( Kathleen has a good one. But I can't copy her's from Shutterfly.)

The group of 7 of us were all lined up, side by side, looking at the cityscape over the edge of this monument to Napoleon's battles. Mady was on my left and Tara on my right. As I turned slightly to walk behind Mady, I instantly became aware of a person standing very close to Mady AND her shoulder bag. This person's back was very close against Mady's back and bag, looking away from the view of the city. As I glanced down I noticed that the zipper on Mady's bag was just slightly open - about 3 inches. In an instant the following thoughts flashed through my mind:

• perfect opportunity for a pickpocket


• Mady needs to get her bag in front of her body


• no one in our group is monitoring Mady's back


• how do I subtly tell Mady to either move her bag or move away from the person


• pickpockets are fast


• there is not enough time to communicate privately with Mady
  
• if I hesitate, it might be too late. So...be proactive NOW!
  

I then slid my arm between Mady and the person, saying "move back", and at the same time creating a space by nudging this person away. As I did this, I turned and saw that this nearby body was a woman. I also saw a man was standing next to her also with his back against our backs. This couple was light skinned black, conservatively dressed, except for one shock of pink dye in the woman's closely cut hairstyle. I also noticed another man, a bit older, Caucasian with white hair and mustache, just beyond woman's shoulder, but facing the woman, and still very close to all of us. As I said "move back" nudging the woman, this white man threw up his empty hands, shook his head back and forth at me and kept on walking. At the same time, the black woman turned to my face and in very clear English, said angerly, "Why did you push me?"

Now I thought, uh-oh, I goofed. Maybe they were just getting their picture taken as a couple and this guy white was going to take it. Maybe my instinct about a potential theft was wrong. So I immediately apologized and said "I am sorry". The woman angerly asked me again why I pushed her. I apologized again - "I am very sorry" and I added, "I just felt you were too close to my niece and I know that there are pickpockets around these areas. I am so sorry." She continued to confront me, saying I could have made her fall down and get hurt. I again continued to repeat that I was very sorry. She then accused me of pushing her because she was black. I reiterated, that my actions were based on her close proximity to my niece, and I was sorry. In my opinion she then tried to raise the level of confrontation because she now added, "I should slap you!" I responded calmly with, "if you feel you need to do that, go ahead." I think that is how and what was said. Finally, she and the man walked away to the adjacent side of the top of the Arc.

As soon as they left, everyone in our group huddled together. I explained what had just occured. We looked back toward the couple who were now at least 150 feet from us. They were looking at us. Then the woman quickly walked back to us and asked, "What country are you from?" It was quite obvious we were Americans based not so much as how we were dressed, as tourists, but that we were in a tourist area speaking to each other only in English with an American accent. So I did not directly answer her question. I think I said again that I was sorry about offending her. She asked her question again, adding "Are you ashamed of your country?" And again I did not directly answer her question. I think I started to walk away, perhaps, on hearing Lynda's prompt, "Come on, let's go". So I walked toward Lynda and we held onto each other's arms heading toward the stairway. We called to the others for them to follow us. When I looked back, I saw Kathleen and Barbie continuing to talk to the woman. They can tell you their part of the story.

It was quite an experience! I was quivery inside over the next hour. In reviewing what had happened, I knew that I had responded instinctually, but then doubted my instinctutual assessment, etc. But as I remember the incident, and even when I thought that I might have made a error of judgement about the woman, I did feel and continue to feel confident that, in that split second opportunity to either act or not in moving the woman, I had made an appropriate decision.

Here is my assessment of what was happening: The lady was indeed a pickpocket. Barbie reported that she had also felt the woman brush against her. By the way, it was not crowded on top of the Arc de Triumph. There was no reason for the couple to be that close to us. If they were posing for a photo, they would have done it along the rail without a crowd of people by them. Her companion had a coat over his arm. (But so did I.) I think the white man was also an accomplice, someone else to also take a hand off and that is why he threw his hands up. The woman was in a tourist spot, looked like a tourist, and, yes, a tourist could become offended. But a tourist would want to get on with sight seeing, not come back a second time to again fuel such an incident to which I had profusely apologized many times. She wanted to create a scene, a possible distraction to whatever else might be going on. We learned the value of money belts and that pickpockets are not urban legends.

Anyone else want to share their versions of this story?

Victoria

Quotes from Paris

Sandra's recent post gave me the motivation to figure out how to add a note to this blog site. It was NOT so difficult, as I've found most computer experiences. Anyway, greetings fellow readers. Since summer semester began, May 20, I have traveled afar and done my duty as a juror at the county courthouse. Both experiences created many learning opportunities; the latter was definitely the better of the two. In the coming weeks I will to share some of the stories in my 'Paris Diary' with this blog's readers. Always remember that I pay homage to the old adage "never let facts get in the way of a good story." The other Paris ladies may well remember things a bit different than what you'll read from me. Hopefully my stories will encourage you to ask them their version. So here it goes....

Entry 1 – Quote 1 that made it into my Paris Diary

As Mady, Victoria, and I made our way to the St. Louis airport to begin our Paris journey, our chauffeur, Gilbert, was kindly advising us about the proper procedure for using the hotel room safe to hide our valuables. I'm not sure if Victoria was simply nervous and a bit distracted, as she very well might be with the daunting responsibility for leading six empowered women through the complicated Paris maze, but you can imagine how dumbfounded I was when she announced, "It's not like I'm going to lose a lot of drug money in the safe." You just never know where those Sherman’s get their money. May 21, 2007

Entry 2 – Quote 2 that made it into my Paris Diary

Some of you may have heard that we had some excitement at the top of the Arc de Triumph. First, poor Barbie was overcome with the flu. Thinking quicker than a lizard's tongue can grab a fly, Kathleen produced a Ziploc bag out of her purse and Barbie was able to relieve her sick stomach. Soon after, as we were huddled in a little group at the top of the Arc, looking out and marveling at the incredible view we had of Paris, a large, middle-aged, dark-haired, foreign-looking woman pushed herself into Mady. Startled, and suspecting a probable pickpocket, Victoria gave the intruder a bit of a push back. The woman quickly became irate, loudly calling Victoria a "bigoted foreigner." She even said she ought to slap this rude American! After listening to about ten similar comments from the suspiciously overreactive woman, I said firmly to our group, "Let's go." Not gaining much compliance, I said it louder. I finally got everyone but Kathleen to vamoose. Kathleen stayed and argued like crazy with the crazy lady. Was the woman a pickpocket? Very likely. Were we tourists? No doubt about that one….with the seven of us dressed in jeans or zip-off hiking pants, wearing white tennis shoes, speaking and gesturing loudly, and carrying cameras…we were the epitome of the stereotypical American traveler. We eventually made it down to the bottom of the magnificent masterpiece of a structure and that’s where we got the second quote of the trip. Thinking back to poor Barbie’s earlier upset, sweet little Marlena said, “Gee, Mom, you should’a leaned over the edge when we were at the top. Now that would’ve been something to see!” May 22, 2007

just because I can...

I just wanted to say HeLLo on this blog-- well, because I can!
as an official "contributor" to the site, I also have access to post.
I guess we need to start planning the next "girls' adventure"-- so that we will have more to write about!
well, that's all for now-- for anyone who might come across this site!