I've been waiting for that fake accent to make everything good again...

So I finally got caught up on all the Heroes episodes I missed while in Europe. Do you all remember when I squealed and squee-ed and was just generally obnoxious in my delight that David Anders was guesting on Heroes? And then I asked if it was possible that he could become a regular character and fabulously evil? (Well, I did. I said it. It’s all right there in a previous post.) Anyway, to quote Penny Lane, it’s all happening! David is out of 1600s Japan (don’t ask), into the present day, looking like a regular character, and totally being evil. At the same time, the second season of Heroes has finally ceased to suck. Coincidence? Doubtful.

It makes me wonder if I have predictive powers. Very specific predictive powers, applicable only to snarky British characters.

Dude, I really can find a silver lining in anything

So, this is what my cellphone voicemail message currently says:

"Hi, this is Allison. Leave me a message. Oh, and here's a very important piece of advice: Never fly Air France. They will lose your luggage and then they will steal from it."

The silver lining? I'm glad it was the French who screwed me over, so at least I can still look on the Italians with fondness.

Hands off the drawers, Frenchy.

So, all day I've been trying to get Amanda to be more upset about my luggage saga, to share in my righteous anger. It took the tale of some pilfered booze to really ignite the rage:

"A bottle of wine is missing? Ok, NOW I'm furious! What if some weird Frenchman stole your underwear? Gross! I don't even want to think about that!"

Indeed, Manderz. Indeed.

So, Air France is evil.

I'm not sure if you all were aware of this, but Air France is evil. Evil like Satan. And people who have audible conversations in movie theaters. I despise Air France. I despise them like Hitler! And movie theater talkers! Eeeeeeevil!

If you've guessed that this outburst means I still do not have my luggage, more than a week after arriving home from Italy, you'd be correct. Melis doesn't have hers either, but at least she has a working Fed Ex tracking number, which is more than I can say. Those evil people lost my luggage, do not know where it is, and do not have the huevos to tell me so. Vile! Wretched! EVIL!

And can I just ask, how does one lose a piece of luggage that is the color of a pumpkin and the size of an Oldsmobile? That's a special brand of incompetence. Or evilness.

So, if you don't mind doing without essential items such as battery chargers and contact solution, and you don't mind doing laundry at a rate of frequency reminiscent of the Gilbreth family, by all means, fly Air France. But if traveling in concert with your luggage is something that's important to you, avoid this evil airline like avian flu. Tell all your friends! Tell anyone who will listen! Even tell people you don't care for. No one should inflict Evil Air France on other people, no matter how annoying they are. Not even if they talk in movie theaters.


**Update: Melis just called to say she received her luggage. However, it looks like it served a tour in Bosnia in the early-90s, and there's a bottle of wine missing. Not broken. Missing. Evil and thieving!

I HATE Air France.

I am so jetlagged, I might be asleep right now and dreaming that I'm typing this.

Well, I'm back from Italy. I thought I'd have a fabulous time, but I could not have even imagined how fabulous it would end up being. Go! Go to Italy now! You're only punishing yourself if you don't!

I haven't begun my episodes yet, but I can tell you I had a gelato for every day I was there, Melis heard the news about Barry Bonds' indictment on CNN World News and did the happy dance in our hotel room, Rick Steves is some kind of mad genius, Gram loves gondolas, Lisa loves scarves, Linda loves her travel pillow to a degree that disturbs Kristen, apparently I'm rather melodramatic and animated even by Italian standards, our photos will soon be appearing on the wall of our favorite restaurant in Rome, and Jackie says, "Stay away from the spotted meat."

That's good advice, folks.

Sono così spiacente ho battuto quello sopra ed ho fatto un mess.

I’m going to Italy soon, and aside from learning the Italian for, “I’m so sorry I knocked that over and made a mess,” I’ve been reading about the country from whence my ancestors came, and I’ve learned some interesting stuff:

Italy is the world’s largest producer of lemons, and as such, there are plenty of lemon-based drinks, dishes, and pastries to be tried. And I’m going to try them all.

The lines to see The Last Supper in Milan are ludicrous, and we have Dan Brown to blame for it.

For every Venetian resident there are two pigeons and four rats. Great. It’ll be just like being back on the Subway.

The Roman Catholic Church claims that the actual body of the actual Apostle Peter is actually buried under St. Peter’s Basilica. Sorry dudes, I just don’t buy it.

Pope Benedict XVI does not grant private audiences. That practice went out with the death of John Paul II. But I’m still hoping to catch a glimpse of the popemobile when I’m at the Vatican, bullet-proof bubble and all.

Venetian gondolas travel about three miles an hour (the same as walking) and are always painted with six coats of black paint, because in the 17th century the Doge enacted a law to eliminate competition between nobles for the fanciest boat. Well, sorry for you if your gondola gets stolen.

Police Officer: Describe the missing boat.
Screwed Gondolier: Well, it’s black…