Since the disk drive on my laptop is retarded, I was forced to use my mother’s, which works like a dream. I’m so happy that Apple has begun to phase out this pointless media slot. With Netflix and Spotify, we have no need for archaic plastic circles. This will, admittedly, make my more obscure DVDs and CDs difficult to use, but worth it!

You remember how I’m planning a trip to Egypt, right? I haven’t a clue how I’m going to make that work, yet, but it includes a resort in Kenya, a cruise up the Nile, some weeks in Cairo, perhaps a camel caravan to Morroco, a ferry to Spain, a train to Nice, some time in Villefranche-sur-Mer, a train to my hometown, Paris, then the Eurostar to London, a train to Cornwall to visit my paternal homeland, then another train to Southampton, then catching the QEII to New York City. It’ll all come together somehow, I’m sure. I didn’t even talk about Istanbul or Prague, both of which need to be worked in somewhere. I’m exhausted already. I want to do one of those backpacking things that poor people do and then write books about it that are always published and always pathetic. I’ll of course write a book, too. I write every single day, words pour out of me unwillingly. Anyway, since I’m planning on finally visiting my beloved (I’m assuming I’m going to love it, it’ll be a knife in the heart if I don’t) Egypt, I decided I had better learn the language. The only lessons I could find was a short course by Pimsleur. They’ve always been good.

Of course my computer wouldn’t load the damn CDs, so I had to use Ma’s computer to load them onto my iPad. In the meantime, I perused her pictures from our recent trip to Europe and took a few to share with you. I do hope you enjoy them.

Very cold waiting for the MegaBus to whisk us away to Chicago.

Still very cold, but awfully chic. I finally own a pair of Karl Lagerfeld-esque gloves. The fit is awful, but I won’t take them off.

Promenading down one of the streets in Chicago.

Impatiently waiting at a French bakery in Chicago. It was rather alright.

Making sure I look like First Class material while waiting for the plane to board. The idiots at the airport did not offer me a First Class seat. Let’s see if I fly with them again!

Very shamed and uncomfortable to be eating on the Tube. It’s just not done.

Outside The Montague before going in for tea. I had dressed so very nicely. This was a wonderful day in London. I still think back upon it fondly. I was allowed to succumb to my Egyptological fervor and briskly walk through the randomly placed roads and alleys. Oh, I love London!

Inside the Montague, waiting for the tea service to start. I loved the room. So decadent. And look at me!

Jessica was not nearly so amused by the classy establishment. She’s much more simple than I.

I always take the stairs. Why stand on an escalator when I have legs that work? I must say that my legs are especially well suited to physical activity, they’re the strongest part of my body. Thought you should know.

Drinking a pint at a pub. Bitter and quite good.

Jessica was definitely not a fan.

We forgot to put money on the ceiling.

Being photographed by the paparazzi all day long can be awfully exhausting.

Jessica, I’m ashamed to tell you, did not know all the Spice Girls songs. I did, of course.

I’m a big fan of mirrored walls.

Outside the Bed & Breakfast we frequented in London.

Laughing in the streets. Not sure why.

They wanted more and more photographs. Stop! We have lives to lead.

Back in my hometown of Paris. I love it there. Every street and bakery (not true! I hate a lot of bakeries! I’m very judgemental!) and citizen and cigarette. All of it. I thought I looked especially dashing in my burgundy jeans.

This is Ma’s favorite bakery, right across the street from my first apartment. It was still the best apartment I’ve had, so far. I’m sure I’ll have many more. It’s in the Bastille, not my favorite area, I prefer the Marais, but the rooms were gorgeous.

On top of Notre Dame.

These idiots opened all the windows. It was freaking freezing.

Celebrating Ma’s birthday outside of the Sugarplum Cakeshop. I had a raspberry cupcake. Quite nice.

“Champagne! Champagne for Lulu!” If you don’t get that reference, we aren’t going to be friends very easily. Unless you’re a couple of exceptions, of course.Going into Disneyland. Not as fun as Florida, I must admit.

Another pigeon got high on bath salts and ate the head of this pigeon. Tragic.

Our host on the Jack the Ripper walk. Nuts. Absolutely nuts.

Anyway, it turns out that Arabic is going to be a bitch to learn, but I can’t help laughing at myself when I try to say it. The language has so many guttural sounds that my mouth has never had to make before. I’m sure I’ll get it before long. I have a good brain for languages. The Cairenes are going to adore me.