“The day we left I had hashbrowns..."

The first time I went to France I was 11. I went with a very special woman who is like an aunt to me. When I see the clothes I wore on this trip ((in that picture below that you really can’t miss)), it’s a wonder they ever let me back into the country, and straight into the stylish capital nonetheless.... well anyway, what can I say really, I was 11.





And in case the outfit didn’t give it away ((yes that's one extra large t-shirt over spandex shorts, the baseball cap and double socks are self explanatory)), I invite you to read a lovely excerpt from my travel journal. The travel journal that ((at the time)) I felt had been cruelly forced upon me by my mother “Dearest Chantal, may this first trip to Europe be the beginning of a lifetime of worldwide adventures...” she had the nerve to write on the inside cover ;) and this cruel and unusual punishment of a daily journal entry was strictly reinforced by my aunt. Oui, moi, the writer, refused to write. I did write, but when you read the eloquent first few pages that I’ve copied here, the refusal part will become screamingly evident. Did I mention I was 11? That too, will be alarmingly clear.

MY TRIP TO FRANCE/SWISS
August 6 1991 - August 18 1991
age 11

“The day we left I had hashbrowns. When I went on the plane I found out that I HATE ((underlined)) them because the food is SICK ((underlined)) and they get to COLD ((you guessed it, underlined)) and they don’t have good radio stations or good movies the first movie was the hardways with Michael J. fox in it it was STUPID! ((underlined)) The second movie was King Ralph that I wanted to see but the head phones were fuzzy the whole time! (at least I got my money back) The food on the plane looked like liver in sticky dark blood. And I had that 2 times! (I did not eat it!) the 3rd plane I got lunch. It was cold cuts on a sweet roll DISCUSTING ((underlined)) The cheese was swiss and it had tiny hairs on it and the meet was dirty. Finally I got to the air port and went to the car rental place and the girl that helped us looked exactly like the French girl I know! She was verry pritty and even talked like her except she talked to us in english!....”

...aaaand one can only take so much of that at once, so... to be continued, I’m sure you’re anxious to hear the next installment. ((note I’ve always been a creative speller, I didn’t change a single letter, word, capital letter or punctuation mark))

I’m writing a travel guide, or series of travel guides to Paris. This will be the opening, my first true appreciation of all that France had to offer...lol. And even if the term lol existed at the time, I don’t recall thinking any of this was the least bit funny. Did I mention I was 11? And let’s turn the page, shall we..

ps does anyone know how to underline text on here??? ((obviously I don't...))
x c