All posts tagged travel

Keep me in your heart

Published May 28, 2013 by Dorothy


Some things that people find difficult, I find them easy; it’s the things that are easy to everyone that I find incredibly hard.

Melancholy, all those thoughts like a screen of fine gossamer between me and my life, how could I see clearly through it? I know now what I have to do: I’m applying to go back to Florida.

I am working towards my new degree slowly but surely; I’m absolutely unsure of what will come next for me and at least that’s cheering me up a bit. I could be in New Zealand or Australia or in Orlando or in Canada in the next five years, I’ve absolutely no idea. The only thing I know is that I want to put my suitcases down somewhere and not move again. I’m planning that for the next five years, if that is possible.

Planning to go away is my everyday motivation. That and looking at cool pictures like the one above and thinking about cool trips I’ve done around the world.

I’m getting my fiddle back in two month. He also has helped me soothe my nerves when I was going through difficult stages. I miss that thing ūüôā

and I’m definitely getting that pretty little Hilfiger bag, a girl need that to cheer up! (That and lots of dodgy cocktails and sparkling wine).

I’m still revising my novel and when I’ll be done with that it’ll cheer me up for a while also! (I’ll feel like this best selling author until I start getting rejection letters and after that I can still tell myself that I’m too brilliant for my time! All positive.)

I still don’t have a good title for it. I have no idea what to call the beast!


Stay tuned,

I shall be back on the blog a little more often for updates.




New York,New York!

Published November 9, 2011 by Dorothy

Times spent¬†with Bernadette are always eventful; I don’t know why but he has an ability to get himself and others around him in all sorts of weird situations. So a trip to NYC with Bernadette was bound to mean : trouble.

Having had such a strange time in New York, I have decided to publish a list of things not to do when you go on an NYC back2back, so all of you who are going to do this after us can benefit our great experience.

Thing #1: Do not check your account balance a minute before your plane is scheduled to take off

Yes, I know, you are mighty sure you know how much you’ve spent, how much you’ve earned, you’re a live calculator and who needs bank statements when you’re so good you’ve got your balance worked out in your head! But still. You might end up like poor Bernadette;¬†who discovered, at the ATM,¬†right on the morning we left,that whilst he thought he was practically a millionaire, he¬†disposed, in fact¬†of the substantial sum of 4, 53 $, for four days of tourism¬†in NYC.

thing #2 : Do not¬†assume¬†your luggage will arrive with you on the same plane and you’ll be able to go your merry way

at least, that’s what the employee at JFK told us. When we landed, we waited for our suitcases¬†to come out; and waited; and waited. Everybody left with their cases, except us and another couple of people, and then a woman who reminded me of Queen Latifah came out of her office and motioned for us to follow her, telling us “not to panic” words which, of course, made us panic right away.

“Not to worry, not to worry” Queen Latifah assured. “I have some stray suitcases in my office. I’m pretty sure that’s where your luggage is.” we followed her in the office and the cases weren’t there.

“Not to worry” she said, her smile wavering a little. “where did you guys take your connecting flight? Philly? they must be there. I’ll call the airport.” And so she did.After a few nod, a few “humhum” “okay” “are you sure?” “well okay” “thanks anyway” she hung up and turned to us, and I could tell our luggage was in trouble. “well isn’t that funny now!” she cleared her throat embarrassed.” They are not in Philadelphia either! my files says they left Orlando but we have no clue where they are now!how funny!”

Neither I nor Bernadette found any of this funny, but we still filled in the “funny little forms” for lost luggage. “Now there was a flight to Oahu departing at the same time as your flight!” Queen Latifah explained.” Wouldn’t it be funny if your suitcases got to Oahu and not you guys? have you guys been to Oahu yet? I bet you haven’t!”

I casually explained that we were on our four days holiday on a tight budget and that, given that everything we needed, clothing, toiletry, travel guides, adapters for cameras, etc (…) was in our cases, it wouldn’t be that funny if we had to wait for our stuff to come back from Oahu. After that¬†she got cross at us,¬†she snorted that we had no sense of humour and it was a pain dealing with customers like ourselves, that we were difficult and so on! Bernadette mumbled a reply in French about her shoving her funny little form up her arse and about her moving the aforementioned arse out of her chair to go find our luggage, an answer that I translated to Queen Latifah by :” My friend asks that you do your very best to help us retrieve our luggage and he feels that filling out forms is not enough.”

She nodded and said we should hope for an appearance of our luggage in the afternoon; After all it was “funny how sometimes lost luggage turned up out of the blue!” so we left and went to visit New York. We went to Fifth Avenue and had a great time eating free chocolate sample in Godiva. Luckily for us, the cases were not gone to Oahu and they arrived at the airport at 3 o’clock.

thing #3 : Do not check in to your guest house late

With all the shenanigans at the airport, plus the time we took to find our way around in the subway, we arrived at the guest house way later than we were supposed to, 1 pm; when we put down our cases in front of the house, it was 8 pm and pitch black outside; we were bone tired.

“At laaast, we’re going to have a rest!” Bernadette said, satisfied. we knocked at the door. Nobody answered, and that’s when I noticed it was also dark inside the house.

“Don’t tell me¬† the check in dude is gone” Bernadette sighed.

When I climbed the few stairs to the door, I noticed the guest house owner had left and stuck a note to the glass panel :

Bernadette and Kenny Cat,Welcome to NYC guest house!! please call me on your arrival to get your keys, George 321-xxx-xxxx

Bernadette and I looked at each other. Both of us had lost our cell phones just days before the departure. We were in a quiet suburb and there was nobody around.

“Allright.I’ve had it with New York.” Bernadette slouched down on the porch.”I wanna go back to Orlando!”

And actually, now we were on our own in the cold heartless city, I kinda wanted to be back in Disneyland. I think living in Disneyland is highly addictive. Whether you have lost your keys,¬†crashed your car, wet your pants,run out of¬†m&m’s or whatever,¬†there’s always one of Mickey’s¬†employees here¬†to ease you out of any situation; it always seems to take them nothing but¬†a phone call and a¬†Colgate smile. After a few month there, you are totally freaked out when you go out on your own. Anyway, after sitting on that porch for a few minutes, we both decided to make our way back to the train station, dragging along all our cases with us, in the vague hope of finding a payphone that I thought I’d seen when I got off the train.

“Ahhh¬†here it is!” Bernadette pointed out and we sighed with relief.

I picked up the receiver, fed the phone our quarters and dialled George’s number.

“I am sorry, the number you have called is no longer in service.Please check your number and then dial again” said a female robot voice.Before swallowing my quarters and asking for more money! I screamed abuse at the payphone and slammed the receiver, so a guy waiting for his train took pity on us and let us use his I-phone. But I hadn’t dialled a wrong number, the number was not in service, simple as that.

We eventually made our way back to the guest house, and that’s when one of the neighbours, walking past us on his way home, noticed our miserable faces and decided to help. He knew George’s number and so he called him; George had hidden the key in the pot plant, we retrieved it and got inside to rest…

…the story is nowhere near finished, so stick around for the end ūüôā

Go here for part two


Born to be Wild

Published October 7, 2011 by Dorothy

Some times earlier, I said I would put more videos and pictures on this blog. Seeing as I don’t have so much time to write a new article now (although I have plenty to tell- articles will be coming shortly) I will share this short¬†video of our trip to the everglades, (will tell you all about that and the NYC trip later on)¬†Caution, Aligators!

Mission Impossible

Published August 21, 2011 by Dorothy

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, involves…

1 ) Explaining two new girls how to close the stock : mission accomplished

Actually, am I really studying to be a teacher? Because explaining stuff is kinda stressing me out. But maybe it’s because the stuff I was¬†explaining, I¬†didn’t really know all about yet¬†ūüôā It was sooo¬†difficult to a) keep the lines full¬† (the lines, where we put all the pasties on display for people to buy)¬†so that lead Marshall doesn’t think I’m an eejit¬†and can’t put two croissants together b) at the same time explain the pre-cleaning to two girls and make sure they’ve done everything right without forgetting anything myself and¬†c) remain calm at all times, without¬†even so much as a shot of Bourbon inta me to help. But in the end, we finished like, 20 minutes before the others. “That’s not right” I insisted, a little panicky, while Emilie laughed her head off at me. Actually I kinda feel like¬†Emilie loves to laugh at me.I must investigate that matter of utmost importance and find out.¬†“we can’t have finished 20 minutes before everybody else! it’s not right! I mean, I’m the one who was leading all this! so we must have done it wrong!” and Marshall kept repeating patiently “it’s normal you’ve finished early…there’s three of you usually you’re only two closing the stock…I’ thing you’re all done…yeah, no, don’t worry…Yeah, I’ll check in two minutes…allright I’ll check NOW. That way you’ll know for sure.”(and he probably thought “that way you’ll shut the eff up and let me pack my croissants in peace” but he didn’t say that aloud)

Turned out we hadn’t forgotten anything except putting boxes in the lines (stocks have to do that if they¬†finish early) ¬†and so when Marshall checked we were all set. A trio of stars. Smiley Emilie and Calimero¬†and meself.

2) spend a quiet night in bliss : mission failed

Went to bliss with Pixie and Saniwipes and other cool kids. It was the first (and probably the last) time I was in this club. first the drinks are crazy expensive and second, the men in that club: are you kidding me? they are¬†all over you and around you, and invade your breathing space¬†like a cloud of smoke. And as soon as you hit the dance floor, they all come dancing with you uninvited. That wouldn’t be so bad if they wanted to waltz with you; but what they want is to rub themselves against you, the kind of rubbing my pet poodle did to people’s legs when he was a baby, and mom used to chase him away with a rolled newspaper in her hand. I had no newspaper for those dudes,¬†so I had to do what I could to keep them away. But either some guys had ham baguettes in their pockets, or else¬†I felt some things¬†a lady doesn’t really want to know about¬†! Gross!

3) develop big voice and communicating effectively: mission accomplished

Someone (I will not name and shame Bernadette) slipped an ice-cube¬†in my shirt while I was giving change to a little Canadian girl and I yelped so, loud that the whole bakery turned around, trainer two at the other end of the bakery, agent Smith (named like that because of his never smily face), Ice Mimi, Closet Peggy, and even trainer one poked his head outta the kitchen. Every customer saw me and rushed to my empty register this time! I knew I’d manage to¬†this one day!

That’s all folks! (at least for today)

stay tuned,


Travelin’ Band

Published July 31, 2011 by Dorothy

Everywhere, everything,huge.

Skyscrapers that lauch themselves high up, trying to reach up to the clouds; bodies sculpted, modified, touched up so much that their sheer, unnatural¬†perfection no longer looks human; ¬†houses painted insolent colors, buttery yellow, mint green, Pepto Bismol pink; restaurants, tables loaded with impossibly huge chunks of meat and mountains of golden chips; margaritas so huge and strong that your head starts spinning when you’re not even halfway through the glass.

That’s Miami for you!

We arrived early in the afternoon  and checked in our hotel. First good surprise: The reception and bar had this cool, retro vibe and the suite was really nice.  We explored the minibar and basket of snacks, and Barbs and myself found some cool shades, they  were plastic and had the American flag on them!!

“This is sooo fun!” Barbs declared. “Let’s bring them to the beach and take fun pictures!”

“Hum, are they free?” the two boys asked.

“Course they are!” I told them, ripping the plastic package off the shades and trying them on. “They couldn’t ask¬†us to to pay for that! Look, it’s just cheap plastic.”

“Oh. Right.” they said.

There were two sofa and a giant bed, in which all four of us could fit! But we didn’t feel like trying it just yet : we were a few yards away from the beach and after a quick lunch at a French bakery, we directly went for a swim in the ocean. The sea was hot like a bath and I stayed in there with Barbs in there for hours, after what we joined the boys who had slopped down on their towels and were now ¬†fast asleep on the beach.

“Come oooooon!” Barbs¬†shouted enthusiastically in their direction, startling them both awake. “Let’s take a picture with those funny America sunglasses, it will be so fuuuuun!”

She¬†reminded me of Michelle in American Pie a bit. The boys both grumbled vaguely than what they found funnn right now was sleeping and so Barbs and I took photos of each other¬† with¬†the shades, and then we headed for the hotel because we had been told it was happy hour between 7 pm and 8 pm and we didn’t want to miss a minute of it.

About the happy hour: I thought the free cocktails were going to be like the “shakeitbaby” and the “sexyboyz” in the Chillers: those are only worth one dollar per glass but there’s one drop of tequila¬†for one gallon of margarita flavoured slush, so after wasting ten dollars and remaining completely sober, you have to go to the other bar in the Chillers, the one that serves normal drinks,¬†and get plastered on¬†proper concentrated alcohol.But in the free cocktails of the hotel,there was so much alcohol and so little juice that they were almost shots! after about five or six of those each¬†(ten each for the boys) I started to get kinda wobbly on my feet and so did the others; the Adam Rodriguez looking barman, spotting that we were behaving kinda oddly¬†eyed us suspiciously and snatched the “free drinks”sign away¬†as soon as he got the chance, probably worried that we were going to pull a rolling stones on him and destroy the place in a drunken fury.

When we left for the restaurant, we were completely gone over the hill and far away off our faces. We walked along Ocean drive and all the mixed sounds,scents and colors and lights made me feel like I was on some sort of a Las Vegas Parano trip. We stopped at a restaurant and we absent mindedly ordered three king sized margaritas (with two Corona bottles upside down in the glass for Alex) and they were like, huge! I think there was at least a liter of margarita in there, no kidding! I kept drinking and drinking out of it and I could barely see the level of margarita going down! this was the best margarita ever.

Then we ordered the meal.

“How much is the special plate of king sized rumsteak sprinkled with caviar and Veuve Clicquot sauce ?” Dorian asked the waitress.

“35769183685741368 dollars” the waitress said.

“oh! and how much the giant fresh lobster ?”

“hum, 86953987 dollars sir!”

I though he would them shrug and have a modest 3 pound steak or something that was  at a reasonable price but he enthusiastically went for the lobster that cost a zillion dollars! After fifteen minutes, it started raining. Not a drizzle,but heavy, tropical rain, complete with thunder. It took us quite a while to react.

“Oooooh it rains in my margarita” I said, drunkenly.

“It rains WATER.” Barbs blinked, stoned.

“Should we get like, out of the rain or something?” Alex asked.

‘Yeah, there’s like, a canopy there” rain was bouncing on Dorian’s head. “we could maybe go there, what do you think?”

“yeah, let’s do that! I’ll be funnn!” Barbs vaguely said.

After a good ten minutes of slow thinking, we finally pulled the table under the canopy.

The food was pretty good, the bill, less good: with three giant margaritas worth 30 dollars,plus Dorian’s supersized lobster in Bollinger sauce or something equally extravagant, and all the appetizers and maxi burgers and¬†everything we ordered, the bill was:350 dollars! I don’t think I’ve ever managed¬†such a high restaurant bill ever. Ah well. Youth and pissedness are our excuses!

That night we couldn’t find a place to hang out big enough for all our coolness to fit in (furthermore, the boys were wearing shorts and¬†flip-flops¬†so we couldn’t get inside any place that mattered ūüėĬ† ) so we went to a couple of pubs and then simply went to the beach to take a midnight bath and take some pictures of us in the deserted rescue patrol cabins pretending we were Mitch Buchannon and Pamela.

The next day was also terrific: We went shopping for souvenirs and I got myself THE tacky shirt : “f*** me I’m famous, Miami beach”. I hesitated between that and “Bitch, I was in Miami”, but I decided for this one, it’s tacky in a classy kind of way. Anyway, this is the right shirt if you want to get rid of your mom or your nanna for a couple of hours: If I wear this in front of them I’m pretty sure they’ll faint!! Also I can wear it in the Chillers: It will be assorted with my cocktails heehee.


PS: actually the bleedin shades were ten dollars!!!

Gotta Get Along Without You Now (arrival,part 3)

Published July 3, 2011 by Dorothy

Day 3 :

I arrived to discover I would be trained to use the cash register. Handling money is always a bit stressful; so I stressed all along the day as you would expect from me. I wasn’t with my usual trainer but this new one was okay too; especially as I kept panicking and messing everything up, I must have been kinda annoying, but Trainer 2 did not say anything about that.¬†I think if I ever¬†have to train someone like me I’ll resign ūüôā

I did every mistake I could possibly do:

  • ¬†thrown away receipt I had to keep for paperwork (“it’s okay, it’s only your first day” Trainer 2 sighed. Before overturning the bin and gesturing for me to help him find the missing ticket.)
  • charged a grandad for 270 chocolate croissants when he had only ordered two. “oh f**k” trainer 2 said, then looking¬†from my ¬†face growing panicky¬†to the ticket saying the grandad had been charged 695472729.65 $:¬†¬† ¬†“herm, t’s’okay, don’t stress. I’ll sort this out. Hold on to the register and no more catastrophes for 5 minutes while I’m looking for the manager?”
  • Drove the coffee machine crazy;I punched the wrong button and it served me a whole liter of decaf even though I kept shouting at it to stop pouring coffee this instant.
  • Somehow managed to make 11¬† dollars disappear from the till; whe counted and counted the money again about¬†a dozen times¬†after we closed the bakery¬†(poor trainer 2 stoically helped me and smiled through the whole process) but we still couldn’t find it.The manager gave me the¬†cross looks¬†but let us go unscathed, ordering us to clock out.

So now that’s it. I’m trained at every job in the bakery! no more trainers! though I’d probably need some more training!

later that day I met trainer¬†2 at a party and he toasted me,calling me his¬†little “full of shit checkout girl” ! humhum. He¬†probably shares my views on my needing more training.

stay tuned!!!


Sugar Town (arrival, part 2)

Published July 1, 2011 by Dorothy

So that’s it: I’m officially on my week end! So I’ll start these two days of complete and utter freedom by pouring myself some Margarita and updating the aul blog! I can now tell you about the beginning of the Floridian adventure! I will skip all the boring details about the first days of welcome sessions and skip directly to the first day of work, shall I ?

Day 1 :

a few of us new Cast Members got in the bus. Having heard all sorts of Urban Legends about work at the bakery being extremely difficult, we are all scared out of our mind and very skittish, so it took us a little while to realise the girl we had sat next to was also French. She was¬†tiny and had a small, heart shaped pixie face. She told us she also worked in the bakery and so we pressed her with all sorts¬†questions like “did anybody survive the job?”¬†and all.¬†Pixie Girl smiled at our anxiety and dismissed all the Urban¬†Legends with a wave of her tiny hand, so I felt a little reassured.

We then followed Pixie Girl who hurried out of the bus, like a row of little ducklings (and we really looked like ducklings with¬†the bright yellow shirts of our uniforms) onto the next bus and in the bakery. As soon as we were in she ran off someplace wishing us good luck; then the manager greeted us and told us to go to the kitchen where our “lead” would tell us what to do. Pixie Girl was there, bent over some food that she was apparently setting on fire; then she yelled for someone to come pick up the burnt stuff “Creme Brul√©e!” she shouted in a voice bigger than herself. Then she pointed at us one by one “you! Go to¬†line one! You!to stock! you! stop talking when I’m talking! You! (me) drinks two!” Turned out our Pixie Girl was the lead and she got to boss us around! hadn’t see that one coming!

So Pixie Girl sent me to drinks, which is quite easy : All I had to do was ask people if they wanted any drinks and pour them some of whatever they asked for,and also keep the bin near the exit empty, plus I had to restock the table with all the plastic cutlery and sugar, cream and straws. Each of us were assigned a “trainer”, meaning someone who was here longer than us and could explain everything about the job. My trainer should really pursue a career in education, he’s the coolest trainer ever ūüôā

I spent the rest of the day serving drinks with Trainer who didn’t get mad when I made mistakes even when I spilled Iced cappuccino on his freshly polished shoes and when a little blue haired granny shouted her head off at him because I’d forgotten to put ice in her drink.

Day two :

Time to try ou the line, where we serve food to guests.¬†and¬† be paired up with a new trainer! A little nervous, I walked up to the line only to find my same trainer, fortunately! He looked a bit drained when he saw me coming (and did he look at his new shoes and flich? I shall never know) but anyway I was glad I didn’t change trainer.Everything went smoothly except when I had to call out guests to my register.

“you have to call out loud” Trainer advised. I was shy but I would do it, I thought.

“Bonjour,” I shouted on top of my lungs “come over this side!”

But then I turned to Trainer so happy with myself for speaking superloud and he cleared his throat.

“Humhum,louder, trainee, they can’t hear you if you’re muttering like that!”

“but, but!that’s the loudest I can do!” I said, offended, and Trainer laughed heartily.

“go again” Trainer said and I tried again to call people. Nobody budged or even turned their heads and at my third attemps, Trainer called out bright and clear, covering up my voice with his, and as soon as he spoke, heads snapped up and a whole herd came to our line.(note to self : there’s no way I can speak that loud. Should buy myself a vuvuzela)

(to be continued in next post)

m xxx

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