Drinking and Seeing Stars.

Upon discovering champagne, Dom purportedly shouted "I'm drinking stars!" Indeed.

I know most of you think that title pretty much sums up a typical jour chez moi. But contrary to popular belief, I do not sit around drinking champagne all day. I’ll have you know that I take several breaks for pain au raisins and sometimes go to french class, leaving just 6-8 hours of prime champagne drinking time per day!

I kid, I kid. At least on the record. No, that title actually refers to the eclectic weekend we just had, which included a “Devils and Angels” themed boat cruise down the Seine, a tour of champagne country, real fajitas, the French Open and a cocktail party in honor of Azerbaijan. And if that doesn’t say “Celebrating Memorial Day” then I don’t know what does!

While all 3 days of random goodness were notable, there are a few highlights that must be shared here. For starters, let’s talk about that boat cruise: Yes, it was fun. No we didn’t dress up. Yes, a group of women big-dogged me on the dance floor, tried to steal my husband and then pointed and laughed at me. Apparently diplomacy rules do not apply on open waters.

Then there was the champagne in Champagne. Let me tell you I am 30 seconds away from moving in with the wine grower lady who gave us a tour of her vines and cave. Not only does her family painstakingly turn by hand each of their 40,000 bottles a year to get rid of sediment. Not only does this woman have a dog named Tina Turner. No, she also has a deep mistrust of gypsies! It was like we were destined to be together.

If you drink enough champagne, you don't think twice about buying dumb souvenirs!

We then finished off the marathon weekend of fun with a trip to Roland Garros. It was a trip that almost didn’t happen, since we didn’t have tickets and they were most definitely sold out when we got to the gate Monday morning. But as we were drowning our tennis sorrows in some excellent omelets at a nearby cafe, I spied a woman sitting next to us with a pile of ticket envelopes. She was camped out at her table with paperwork and cell phone, and every few minutes a stranger would come in to collect tickets from her. At one point she inexplicably traded tickets with another table of future spectators and gave them complimentary umbrellas. It was all very odd, so of course we asked her if she had any extra tickets. And she did! For the low low price of a couple hundred euros.

Shady? Yes. Worth it? Totally. We got to see Henin lose to Stosur and Melzer beat that emotional Russian guy. AND THEN WE RAN INTO RAFAEL NADAL. I mean, literally bumped into his chest as he stormed towards us with his entourage and we stood there gaping like star-struck idiots. (Note: he’s really tall, exceptionally tan and apparently really grumpy-looking before matches)

So yes, it was a weekend to remember. But you know what? Part of me would have given anything to be home for a backyard cookout and some pool time. Anything except my glass of champagne of course.


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