Averil, Please Post!

          As you know, Averil's been handed the blog baton for a while since Ed has returned to Seattle to do some work. 

          Averil, don't keep the people waiting!  

          I know they don't want to hear about my trip from France to Seattle and how I had to go through the metal detector twice at the Marseille airport since I forgot to take off my belt the first time through.  (It was sooo embarassing!).  Then, when I got on the plane I sat in seat 24G next to a man who smelled heavily of alcohol.  That was not a big deal as the first leg was only a 90 minute flight.  Then, when I got to Paris I waited in line for the security screen for a long time.  When I was almost to the front, they started a new line and all the people in the middle and back got to go to the front of the new line.  I was so mad!  But the people don't want to hear this, they want to hear what's happening in France.  That's where the real interest lies, Averil. So please do a blog post so I don't have to tell the people about the terrible thing that happened to me on the second leg of the journey from Paris to Seattle.  You see, I was sitting in seat 45J near the rear of the plane.  And they asked me if I wanted chicken or pasta for dinner.  Naturally, I chose chicken and set my expectations accordingly.  But when the flight attendant looked in the wagon, she said they were all out of chicken.  I had to have the pasta, even though it wasn't my first choice.  I was upset for a while, then I said to myself, "oh well."  Then I watched three movies.  In order, they were:  Super-8 (a bit of a dissapointment); The Hangover Part II (very vulgar and hilarious); and Battle: Los Angeles (surprisingly good!).  I also finished reading a book, which I've forgotten the name of right now.  But no one wants to hear these boring details, they want to hear from you Averil!  So give us an update. Oh, and I was sitting next to a man who looked like Mikhail Baryshnikov.  He was nice, but he had a runny nose and a sore throat so I switched seats.  Then we landed, and there was a huge coinncidence.  It happened like this:  I went through customs, and the agent who checked my passport had a name tag that said his name was Descolleti, so he was obviously Italian.  Not more than 10 minutes later, I saw on the airport TV screen that an Italian court had freed Amanda Knox!  It was so weird.  But none of this is interesting Averil.  The people who check this blog want to know what is happening in France.  So please do a blog post.  Or I will have to tell how I took the train into downtown Seattle and about the discussion I witnessed on the train between fans of opposing baseball teams.  Seems that one of them was a St. Louis Cardinals fan, and the other was a Chicago White Sox fan . . . .