Our cat was a physics major

In case you aren’t aware, Dave and I the proud parents of a white cat with blue eyes that we cleverly named Frank (after Sinatra).  I have a theory that Frank is a very intelligent cat, and possibly has a few degrees under his belt.  My arguments are below:

Frank, The Physics Major
I don’t know if this is what all cats do or not, but Frank loves to knock things off of things and see how they land. And then see how they roll.

Example: Any vessel for holding liquid. We have learned, as cat parents, to now put any drinking liquid into a cup with a corresponding lid if we think that there may be some small window of time when we are unable to keep watch on said vessel.  Otherwise, there is a 95% chance that our cat will be intrinsically drawn to the cup and attempt to knock it over with his adept kitty paws (because hundreds of other experiments that he’s done still haven’t convinced him that cups fall over and liquid spills out). Some of our favorite glasses have fallen victim to this ongoing physics experiment of his – including (though my husband is, as of yet, unaware) a cherished whiskey glass that was a wedding present from his best man.

Other items he enjoys batting to the ground and observing how they hit the floor:
- Salt and Pepper Shakers
- Magazines
- Keys
- Hand cream
- Jelly Beans

And let’s not forget his undying love and devotion to the noble hair tie. Watch how it slides across the floor at amazing speeds!  Observe elasticity at its finest!  See, the nice thing about cats is that such simple items can hold and keep their attention for hours at a time (until he becomes a magician and practices their disappearing act by shoving them under the nearest rug).

Frank has a Psychology Minor
There are the times when I think Frank is actually using us as test subjects in some odd psychology experiment.  You know, the one that makes you question what your abilities will be as parents to an actual child and not just this furrball of a purrbucket?  If patience and understanding are a couple of the cornerstones of parenthood, then I may turn out to be partly a success. There are days when we are woken to sounds of dining room chairs tipping over, our beloved salt and pepper mills being batted around like they’re in some kind of curling match, the clothes on our drying rack being pulled to the floor – only to sigh and try our best to go back to sleep.  We know that – whatever the damage – as long as our apartment isn’t on fire, these things can be picked up again, broken glass can find a home in the garbage can, and chairs can be returned to their normal positions aside the dining room table.

Another example of Frank’s prowess in the field of psychology is his deep understanding of Bipolar disorder.  There are evenings that I’ll be sitting at the dining room table, enjoying dinner with my husband, when all of a sudden I spring out of my chair because our cat suddenly went into Attack Mode and decided I would be his next victim.  But, only a few hours later when my alarm clock goes off to start the next day (although it is still dark outside), I turn to my right, and there is Frank, cuddling up next to my pillow, ready to purr as soon as I notice his presence.  And, then he continues to follow me into the bathroom when I start my morning routine, all the while rubbing against my legs and purring like crazy.  It’s our special time together.  It’s a time when he is the sweet, precious kitty that I adore, who apparently adores me as well.  But just wait until the sun goes down…and Mr. Hyde comes out to play.

All that said, we are crazy about this bi-polar, physics minded cat, Frank, as most cat owners are about their pets.  I mean, how can you not fall in love with this face:

Just a girl in a feline world,

Your Redness

re-inspired…

Good People of the World,

It is with great honor that I am re-entering the Kingdom of Blog, with hopes that my random musings can engage, humor and transport you for a few minutes at a time to a strange and delightful place located just outside of my brain.  With my words, I shall take you on a journey through the first year (and thereafter) of marriage.   I shall gush over my darling nephews.  I shall speak of food…often.  I shall hold your virtual hand as we explore our new home city of San Francisco.   I shall contemplate everyday moments that seem minor but may or may not have major impact. I shall share beautiful, hysterical and ironic moments from the Internet Universe. I shall…etcetera, etcetera.

For starters, let’s take a gander at this gem that brought tears to my mid-menstrual cycle eyes (TMI?):

It’s just so nice to see such raw talent being shared impromptu with the everyday people of the New York subway system. Give this girl a record contract, stat. You can also find her blog (which made me fall in love with her just a teensy bit more) at:
This Life in Writing.

WYSIWYG – What you see is what you get.
There exists something my co-workers like to refer to as “crazy-time”, a witching hour that lasts between 3:00 and 4:00 PM on any given Friday in the office.  During this hour, you can witness my hysterical laughter as I find myself scouring the internet for comedic gold, photoshopping pictures of cats onto pictures of my husband and then posting them on Facebook, and reading this site:  ANIMALS TALKING IN ALL CAPS.  It is exactly what it says it is: pictures of animals with captions (in all capital letters).  This kid needs to write for SNL or something, because he’s straight gold.  Go on.  You can say I told you so.

A few of my faves:
this one
this one
this one
this one
this one
this one
this one
and this one

And that’s all she wrote…for today, folks.

Until we meet again,
Your Redness

A Halloween Rant

Sure, I still play dress up.  I pretend like I’m an Important Technology Employee 5 days a week at Goldman Sachs.  I wear form fitting skirts and something called a “blouse.”   Yes, I’d much rather be wearing a t-shirt and jeans, but I still do it because Corporate Society feels as though my job wouldn’t get done with as much proficiency and excellency if I wasn’t wearing something from Ann Taylor.

But, the other 2 days of the week, I happily settle back into my normal daytime attire and don a cardigan, t-shirt, jeans and tennis shoes.  And this is why I dislike Halloween.  I don’t like coming up with a costume, much rather having to shell out any dough in order to procure a costume.  Can’t we just drink beer together without having to pretend like we’re some slutty this-or-that or some obscure-hipster-pop-culture reference?

Things I’d Rather Spend My Money On Besides a Halloween Costume

Brown Boots
Einstein’s Onion Bagel Toasted with Plain Cream Cheese and Tomatoes
Adorable Salt and Pepper Shakers
Booze
Booze at a Bar
A Halloween Costume for Buddy
The Complete Works of Jane Austen
Rosetta Stone: German Levels 1, 2, 3
Dry Cleaning for my (white) Couch
Tea and a scone at Cafe Ballou
iPhone 3Gs
Plane ticket to Arizona

Buddy's 2008 Halloween Costume courtesy of Auntie Allison

The list could go on forever.  You get the point.

Three Wolves, Anyone?
This year, I was planning on wearing the Three Wolves Howling at the Moon t-shirt, but whenever I mentioned this idea to friends and strangers alike, they didn’t seem to know what I was talking about.  Do your research.  The reviews on Amazon.com alone made this item worthy of an article in the New York Times.  But, apparently, this is where my geekdom supercedes that of my friends and social circle.  And since these same friends demand, year after year, that no matter how much closer to (or farther from) 30 we get, we have to participate in this damned holiday, I had to come up with another (cheap) idea.  So, I asked myself: What could I put together from the contents of my closet that would resemble a Halloween costume?

While my brother would probably argue that half of the crap I own could be turned into some Project-Runway-Gone-Wrong themed ensemble, I had a difficult time coming up with anything that would pass the “must come dressed in costume” disclaimer on every Halloween Party Evite.

And, then, it hit me.  Yes, I would have to go against everything I learned in graduate school.  Yes, I would have to succumb to my boss’s daily reminder of what I should’ve bought instead of my beloved netbook.  And, yes, I would have to answer “what are you” a lot more often than most other dresser-uppers, but at least my three word answer wouldn’t require any further explanation.

“I’m a Mac.”

Costume Idea Brilliance

Of course, I would typically call myself a PC Advocate (especially with the loveliness that is Windows 7 and aside from my undying devotion to my iPhone), but I didn’t feel like wearing a suit.

And so, I Present to You ” The Mac Guy”

American Apparel T-Shirt: Check
American Apparel Hoodie: Check
Distressed Baggy Jeans: Check
Converse All-Star Tennis Shoes: Check (ok, I think he’s actually wearing Vans, but the Chuck Taylor’s will do)

Price: $0
Comfort Level: 100%
Costume Hassle Rating: 0
Pop Culture Relativity: 100%

I may be a Mac, but I also kind of think I’m a genius.

Comfortably Yours,
Your Redness

<img class=”size-medium wp-image-290″ title=”imamac” src=”http://yourredness.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/imamac.png?w=266″ alt=”Costume Idea Brilliance” width=”266″ height=”300″ />

Costume Idea Brilliance

Europe Found! (in Chicago)

After three days of holing myself up in my apartment, I needed to get out.  My cold had subsided enough where I was braving it without the help of meds, so I made the disastrous decision to pick up my Cy Twombly print at Jo Ann Fabrics and then find a coffee shop for some reading and writing time.

During my first errand, the thought occurred to me that it might not have been a good idea to have ventured out at all.  Apparently, Chicago decided it would have a practice round for Black Friday today.  The traffic was unbearable, the parking spots unavailable and the shoppers unaware of anyone else’s personal space.  I can hereby say that I vow to enter Jo Ann Fabrics only twice a year from this day forward.  The overpowering potpourri sent makes me ill upon every entrance.  But, they do have some damn good framing sales.  And we all know that framing is, for some ridiculous reason, one of the more expensive capitalistic endeavors money can buy.

With the print framed and in tow, I headed over to the Ukranian Village to check out a cafe some Yelpers had recommended.  With a money parking spot acquired, Steve Martin came on the loud speaker in my head and said “Things are going to start happening to me now.” (name that movie reference) I entered Cafe Ballou only to hear Andrew Bird playing on their sound system.  Steve, you were right.  This place was about as near to my personal heaven as any cafe in Vienna.  Old marble tables! Adorable salt and pepper shakers!  Egg sandwiches served all day! Moroccan Mint Tea!  Menus written on mirrors! Free wi-fi!  I powered up my netbook, ordered a panini and a tea (in a glass mug!) and let the creative juices flow.  I felt sudden urges to be in school again, or be a writer, or have a work from home job – just so I could spend more time there.

My heart can now rest a little easier knowing that Vienna is only a 10 minute drive away.

Happily Caffeinated,
Your Redness

Adorable Salt and Pepper Shakers

Dirty Thirty

So what if my 30th Birthday is six months away?  That doesn’t stop it from looming over my biological horizon and playing that “I’m not touching you” game my brother used to tease me with as a child.  No matter how many times I set the boundary and tell my 30th Birthday that it can’t cross the imaginary line I’ve created, I know that one day, I will be 30 years of age (and still feeling about 24).

Instead of playing this losing battle of prevention, I decided a while back to create a list of things to accomplish before I was 30.  “Thirty Things to do Before I’m Thirty.”  Nice ring to it, eh?  The problem is that I haven’t come up with all of the 30 things.   A little help here, perhaps?

What I’ve Checked Off
In six months, I have managed to make a little bit of progress on that list.  I have…

- Ate at Alinea
- Ran a 5K (I might want two points for this one – I ended up running a 1/2 marathon instead)
- Saw Andrew Bird live in concert (twice)
- Visited the Guggenheim
- Took a mother/daughter vacation (NYC, four Broadway shows, 1 substantially delayed flight)
- Traveled by train
- Took a vacation by myself

Still Left To Do…

- Take a cooking class
- Perfect a dish
- Take a dance class
- Read 5 Classic novels (suggestions welcome)
- Check off 10 restaurants on my Chicago Restaurant To Do List (halfway there)
- Study a foreign language
- Learn how to ride a motorcycle
- Lose XX pounds (yes, that is x-ed out for a reason)
- Take an Improv class
- Go on a road trip
- Relearn Chess and Backgammon
- Grow something

If you’re good at counting, you’ve realized that I only have 19 things on my list.  There are a few others on it that I’ve chosen not to share.  So, let’s say I need to add 8 more items.  I’m not about to jump out of a plane or shave my head, but I’d love to hear about some of the things that you wish you would’ve done/accomplished while still in your pre-30 days.  Or some of the things you’d like to do / accomplish before you reach that dreaded deadline.  Maybe they’ll just end up on my list, and I will be all the more prepared to turn the Dirty Thirty.

Continuing to Age,
Your Redness

Champagne Wishes and Costco Dreams

I finally did it.  I entered the world of adulthood, suburbanism, and storage closets all in one day.  I purchased a membership to Costco.

I have been battling obtaining that membership for some time now, but finally, I couldn’t come to terms with the thought of not having a one-way ticket to my individually packaged, frozen tilapia fillets whenever I needed to restock.  And thus, Allison Stroud, Costco Gold Club Member, was born.

As I strolled down the aisles, it was probably easy to spot me as a “newbie.”  I have obviously been to Costco several times in my life (my mom is currently working on getting her picture on the Scottsdale Costco’s VIP Customer wall), but never by myself and never with my own agenda.  I was not well acquainted with the Costco Traffic Maneuvering as many of the more seasoned shoppers obviously were.  On several occasions, I was faced with the Costco Snarl from shoppers who I had accidentally bumped into their ankles with my less-than-half-full cart.  I’m sure if it was stocked higher, I would’ve had a better excuse for running into them as they moved at a Costco Pace (aka snail’s pace) through the towers of bulk item goodness.

I had just four items on my list – Dove Body Wash, Individually Packaged Frozen Tilapia Fillets, paper towels and toilet paper.  The tilapia was not in stock, so I got the cod instead and am none the worse off.  But, as it happens with the Target and Jewel syndrome, I inevitably left with several items that I did not think I needed prior to entering the hallowed concrete aisles.  First was the frozen shrimp, as every good Jew should have stored in their freezer.  Then it was the Old Bay spice mix.  I have no idea what it is or how it tastes – an adventure all its own! Of course I got caught up in the wine aisle, and I couldn’t pass up those Red Vines.

The problem with Costco is that, as the saying goes, you can buy the kitchen sink – AND they also sell kitchen sinks – in several varieties, I might add.  Luckily, my AMEX is billed to Goldman Sachs, so I am pretty much forbidden to use any credit card for payment there except my debit card.  That fact in its own right helped to curb my spending and allow me to only get what I truly needed.  Toilet paper fits that bill – we’ll  see if the Old Bay spice mix lives up to my imaginary hype as well.

As a side note, I made a quick trip to my Jewel Osco this morning to pick up some bagels that I was seriously craving.  I ended up walking out with a Family Circle magazine as well.  If you weren’t concerned with my above homage to all things Costco, please be concerned with the aforementioned magazine purchase confession.

Domestically Yours,
Your Redness

What’s with the Jet Lag?

So, I’ve been home for 5 days now and it’s almost 7:00 pm, which means I’m about to get majorly cracked out – as has been the case every other night since I arrived back in the States. I swear, I’ve never been prone to jet lag, but for some reason, I can’t seem to shake it this time. Any suggestions for what might help my poor little self?

On a side note, I know my last post was a little long (I was told today that I should write things in bullet point format so people will actually read them – this was in a work context, but I can see it translating well in blogland), so…I sort of forgot what my point was…

Ah! (back to the bullet point theory…) I had posted a link to the full album of pictures from my entire trip near the end of my abnormally long blog. I thought I would post it again in a considerly shorter blog just in case you missed it the first time:

http://picasaweb.google.com/agstroud/EuropeanVacation#

Wigging out,
Your Redness

Smorgasbord!

I’ve been home for 2 days now, re-adjusting to my normal life in Chicago.  I had written several drafts for various posts during my last day in Prague and upon coming back to the States but just hadn’t gotten around to editing and publishing them.  So, I’ve decided to combine them all into one final end-of-my-european-vacation blog and call it a “smorgasbord.”  The word not only sounds German (it’s Swedish – I looked it up), but it was also one of my favorite words growing up.  Can you believe they used to name restaurants (Something) Smorgasbord?  Or, maybe that was just a Quad Cities thing.  We had a Kimberly Smorgasbord, which was only that much more significant because my best friend growing up was named Kimberly, so we just thought it was cool that she had a restaurant named after her.  (She still is named Kimberly, and she still is my best friend, but the restaurant no longer exists.  Probably because it was not the cleanest place from what I recall.  And restaurant names just shouldn’t contain “smorgasbord” to begin with.)

I digress.  Enjoy this smorgasbord of a post.

Water Closets
I heartily dislike European bathrooms for several reasons, which I shall now list.

1. The consistency of the toilet paper and the paper towels is usually the same. And by same, I mean cheap.

2. You have to pay for them. Sometimes.  I’m having a difficult time understanding this concept.  If it’s the cost of water used, you can bet they’re already saving on that.  The bowls are filled with maybe a cup of water, as compared to American toilets, which probably have 2 – 3 gallons worth. (My dad most likely knows the exact figure because that’s the kind of thing he just knows.)  And, since they clearly don’t invest in high quality paper products (see point 1), where does the need for a price come in? I don’t get it. Would they rather I went on the street? Oh, but don’t worry – they’ve got that notion covered as well in the form of sidewalk water closets that closely resemble phone booths, and where, yet again, you have to pay to enter and use.

3. The lighting systems in many bathrooms are setup to use motion detectors (possibly another cost-saving mechanism). I don’t know about you, but I don’t really move around a lot when I’m doing the deed(s). Finding yourself in the dark, in the toilet, in Europe is not a pleasant situation. You’re then forced to wave your hands around in the air like you’re flagging down an airplane and hope that the motion detector detects you. Unless someone else has found a better way to beat the system – and then I’d probably use my pee money to pay them to find out.

Observations
So, while I was visiting the various cities and countries, I kept a small tally of thoughts on each one.  You could call it my European City Brainstorming Session because that’s pretty much what it looks like.  You know, the sessions where you just write down anything and everything that you can think of / say about a particular subject?  Well, it ain’t much, but here it is.

Munich: friendliness, bikes
Germany: hanging flower boxes, countryside
Salzburg: funny garden statues
Vienna: cafe culture, food markets, antiques, sturm
Prague: flying buttresses, complicated streets with complicated street names, graffiti
All: converse all-stars, bad dye jobs (hair)

On the Road Again
I wrote the below on my way home from Europe.  I had a lovely journey to take – early morning flight from Prague to Frankfurt, a quick connection and luggage exchange, a 10 hour flight from Frankfurt to Dallas, Customs, a quick bite at an American McDonalds, a 3 hour flight to Chicago, a 1/2 hour wait in the cab line at O’Hare, and a 45 minute cab ride back to my home, sweet, home.  I had forgotten that I was so smart to schedule the cleaning lady to come the day before I got back.  It was nice to come home to an apartment that was cleaner than I would ever be able to get it.

Warning – I think I was a little depressed when I wrote this:

Maybe it’s the 12 hours of flying that I’ve already done (with 3 more to go still yet). Maybe it’s the Xanax haze I find myself in – complete with weighted eyelids and a basic air of nonchalance (don’t judge – I can’t get on an airplane without it). Maybe it’s the obnoxious overpowered women sitting behind me discussing contract negotiation and basically getting off on their ability to be overpowered women. Whatever it is – the depression has started. I want to be back in Vienna, discussing Atlas Shrugged and basic socialism principles at an outdoor cafe sipping coffee and not feeling even the slightest urge to look at my watch.

In America, everyone is always in a rush to get somewhere. In Europe, it’s like they’re already there – work will get done, meals will be enjoyed, conversations between friends will be shared.

Side thought: I love old people with iPhones and gay male flight attendants.

I know I was in a Depression when I wrote this:
I woke up this morning at 4 am. After 20 some odd hours of travelling yesterday and a bedtime of 9 pm, I guess I had it coming. (For those of you not in the know – I work very hard to knock myself out during flights as the turbulence makes me a little crazy. Ok, a lot crazy.)

I knew fighting with my sheets and alarm clock was not going to be a successful endeavor, so I bit the bullet and got my ass out of bed. I worked on my blog a bit (needed to get my Prague entries out there before everyone realizes I’m back in the States and not actually writing from the Czech Republic), ate some breakfast (attempted frying prosciutto like bacon -turned out pretty decent!) and took a long shower. Still, I wasn’t able to get myself out the door before 8:10 for work – just like old times, in which case are only a couple of weeks ago.

I donned a vertically striped button down, some pants with rather large bells at the bottom, and red heels – all designed to take attention away from the increased waistline I managed to bring back from Europe.

As I walked out my door, a few things struck me. Some construction guys were taking their Union break outside the building next to mine. I walked past and noticed they were speaking Polish or some other non-English language. It was comforting to hear. One of the things I loved about my trip was the fact at any one corner at any one point in time, you could hear at least 3 – 4 different languages. George and I had commented how amazing it was that most of these people could probably also speak English. Americans on the other hand – well, let’s just say that not much of an emphasis has been placed on really, and I mean really, learning a foreign language.

Another thing that caught my attention were the new flat screen TVs that were installed at my El stop while I was away. Brilliant, I thought! In Europe, I had marveled at the innovative signs in the train / metro stations that gave you, in minutes, the estimated arrival times of the incoming trains.  But, alas, these TVs were for advertisements and train construction announcements only.  Sigh.

Random Vacation Notes

European Vacation Soundtrack (in case you wanted to know)
Ra Ra Riot – The Rhumb Line
Wilco – Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Summerteeth
M. Ward – Transistor Radio, Post-War, End of Amnesia
She & Him – Volume One
Joe Pug – Nation of Heat
Andrew Bird – The Myterious Production of Eggs

Apps and Features I Found Useful on my iPhone (aka Ode to the iPhone aka There’s an App for That)
- iRail – European rail timetables
- Cityscouter guides: Munich, Vienna, Prague – these are great and don’t use up precious data megabytes
- WhiteNoise Lite – because I managed to pick extremely quiet hotels and didn’t have room to pack my industrial fan
- Translator – a must for when I desperately needed to know whether they served eggs for breakfast
- Fring – when sitting alone in a bar, it’s best to look busy.  Im-ing friends via this app accomplishes just that
- Weather – does this require an explanation?
- Currency Converter – for realizing that you just paid $50 for a 10 minute cab ride in Prague
- iPod – see Soundtrack notes above
- Camera – so my facebook friends could see what I was eating and drinking along my journey
- Facebook – for making sure I was on the up and up on all of my “friends” who were excited about NFL season, thanking God it was Friday, and wondering why they were still awake at such and such an hour
- Mail – “Mom, I’ll be able to Skype at…”
- WordPress – for whenever I got that oh-so-inspired feeling to document my cynicism

Finish Line?
And that’s all I got.  You could say “that’s all she wrote,” which would probably also fit the bill.  I came home to an overly stressful next two weeks at work, a clean apartment that I soon made dirty, piles of laundry and lots of artwork that needs to be framed and hung.  Home, sweet, home?

So, what’s next?  I’ve been pondering about how I can continue this blog – brainstorming ideas for what would actually be interesting enough for me to share with all of you.  So far, I’ve come up with: weight loss (like I don’t have enough of that to do post trip), my 30 things to do before I’m 30 list, virtual book club, my foodie dreams and realizations, my attempt to learn how to cook and my ability to retain that knowledge, surviving Chicago winters (a seasonal blog), or maybe a combination of all of these things.  Your suggestions are welcomed.

And with that,  I’ll leave you with the photo album I finally got around to creating – hopefully the pictures won’t be as distorted as I’ve come to find out they were on this blog.
http://picasaweb.google.com/agstroud/EuropeanVacation

Bon Voyage,
Your Redness

A Particularly Noteable Memory

My last stop on the Jewish Quarter tour was the Spanish Synagogue.  The outside looks like something out of the 80s school of architecture, but when you walk into the temple, your breath leaves you for a split second.

The Bimah (aka an Altar for those without much of a Jewish Vocabulary)

Me, being the cat-eyed observationist that I am, noticed a poster advertising a Gershwin symphonic performance that very night in this very beautiful setting.  Anyone who knows me know that I am a broadway buff who also adores the symphony.  Two of my favorite things in a place where my ancestors worshipped?  Doesn’t get much cooler than that (for me).

As Barbra would say, "Hello Gorgeous."

The night went like this: I was the youngest one there by about 15 years, sitting in the second row with a smile plastered on my face the whole time.  The “band” comprised of 6 members of the Czech National Symphony, with a featured trumpeter.  I don’t think I’ve ever heard better acoustics in my life.  The performance featured songs such as “Summertime,” “Rhapsody in Blue,” “I Got Rhythm,” and “Ol’ Man River” just to name a few.

I shot a video of “Summertime” but mostly just to capture the sound.  Because I’m kind of a wuss, I mainly turned the camera up to the ceiling for fear that I would get reprimanded for taking a video while in the synagogue. There isn’t much to see (although the ceiling is gorgeous in its own right), but please do have a listen if you’re so inclined.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=38Lz55kTyaA

After the hour and a half of complete bliss, I wandered to a nearby Italian joint in a bit of a daze, had an oversized pizza, drank three glasses of wine and wrote furiously in my journal.  It was a perfect evening – one I’ll never forget and am lucky to share it here with you.

An American in Prague,
Your Redness

Navigating Prague

This morning, I had a lovely breakfast at Cafe Louvre in Prague, which was slightly ironic as my sister-in-law arrived in Paris only yesterday for a work trip. So far this trip, I haven’t even bothered to make the effort to explain what an over-easy egg is and have been more than happy with the fried egg breakfasts I think I’ve had almost every morning. You see, they have this different way of preparing bacon/ham and eggs. The meat is placed on the bottom of the frying pan and three eggs are cracked on top – sunny side up. I believe they leave the pan as is until the contents are cooked, and then they are slid onto a plate with everything intact and connected. Plate O’eggsandham. Delish!

After breakfast, I headed back to the hotel to grab two important things: a sweatshirt and an umbrella. I haven’t needed a sweatshirt all trip as I was somehow blessed with gorgeous traveling weather (can you say low 70s and sunny EVERY DAY?). But, alas, my first full day in Prague – the city to end all tourist cities – and it’s cold, wet, and rainy. And, much like my shoe dilemma, I did not dress appropriately for the 20 minute round trip walk to and from breakfast. Instead I had woken up with the intention and drive to NOT look blatantly American and actually appear pretty for ONCE this trip. So much for that plan as I donned my hooded sweatshirt and boot-legged jeans with tennies (still loving those tennies, by the way), which proved to be a much more suitable outfit for the days not-so-suitable-to-looking-pretty weather.

In my Oh So American outfit, I conquered the Jewish Quarter next. I seriously should’ve had someone take a picture of me. Along with the screamingly American outfit, I also adorned the audio guide’s lanyard AROUND MY NECK, the umbrella’s cord AROUND MY WRIST and my map GLUED TO MY HAND. Picture perfect tourist – and I won’t make any bones about it!

Jewish Cemetary in Prague - you think they have some space issues?

After my stint as an overly-obvious tourist, I found a charming side-street restaurant, Chez Marcel. I’m now eating a wonderful bowl of carrot soup while plotting out the rest of my day and scheming how to get the most out of the Prague Discount Card that I purchased.

With Mad Cow disease a not-too-distant memory, I decided not to eat here.

Side note: A big Thank You goes out to DePaul University for not putting expiration dates on their student ID’s. Me, being smart enough to not throw it away, has obtained discount after discount on this here trip simply by pulling it out of my wallet and remembering to use a bit of eye cream every day in order to maintain my youthful appearance.

Back to the planning…In front of my carrot soup is a basket of bread and not one, but four maps. I am looking for the location of the Mucha Museum and that endeavor apparently requires more than one navigational aide for yours truly. Let’s see how many times I actually get lost when en route to the museum (one of few that are open on Mondays).

Heading North (I think),
Your Redness

Getting lost = stumbling onto beautiful streets such as this one.