So we arrive at Charles DeGaulle Paris airport after 12 hours of commuting and we are ready to take Paris by storm despite our lack of sleep. We have one small problem. CJ left her overcoat on the plane. Her brand new Miss Sixty tan colored swing length overcoat. I’m thinking to myself, “this isn’t going to end well.” For any of us!!!!
Now don’t get me wrong. I totally understand how it feels to lose something that you really love and think that you “need”. Just a few hours before this I had thought that I had lost a small, black leather case with a rosary from my grandpa’s funeral and other mementos and I was temporarily upset. For CJ, “Coatgate” was just about enough to put her over the edge of being tired, hungry and upset. So as we coasted down the escalator that wasn’t really and escalator, she cried. Great fucking arrival in Paris, eh? Tears and exhaustion, huh? Isn’t that exactly how you drew it up on paper? I think not. At this point I’m angry. I’m not even sure whom or what I’m angry at, but I’m just angry. Mostly, that anger gets directed at the people you are with, so I slam a few bags around and we bicker and try to regroup. At this point I’m thinking of a clichéd quote I’ve heard a bunch lately, “life is 10% what happens to you and 90% what you make of it.” I’m again thinking (which is a bit miraculous at this point that I’m thinking) here’s my chance to practice this “90%” rule.