Giving Thanks, and Directions to France

On Wednesday, I thought about how if I were in New York, I would be on a train heading home for Thanksgiving, with flowers in hand for mom. Thanks to Sun-Sun and Ed, I actually was fortunate enough to celebrate thanskgiving twice last week. A homage to the holiday complete with food-coma. Despite the fact that pecans don't seem to be available in the Iberian Peninsula, we ate well, including sweet potatoe and pumpkin pie, thanks to Jenn and the supermarket at Amsterdam's Schipol airport.

Mananged to get some much needed exercise in this weekend, including Vikram Yoga for the first time and dancing till the early hours at Shoko and Catwalk. Refreshing to get away from the Universal soundtrack, which seems to pay tribute to "Hold On" every thirty minutes. I was starting to wonder if original songs are still made, or if all songs now get introduced as remixes. I stopped to get gas after Catwalk and Jessica and I were approached at the pump by a distraught man, who pleaded, Dans quelle direction est la France. I responded in Spanish to clarify that he wanted to know in which direction France was, and he enthusiastically nodded yes. Certain he wouldn't mistake my gesture for a first-down signal, I motioned extened my arm toward north along the autopista, much to his delight and our amusement/amazement.