Petra entry will be forthcoming...I didn't take the photos and the one who did moves to Glasgow tomorrow. In the meantime, the year got off to a questionably auspicious start in anticipation of the dragon with a 4-day business trip to Paris, 3-day personal trip to Jordan, dead Jeep battery discovered at 8pm in the garage at work with a 7am meeting the next day, and a shoulder that cannot seem to be diagnosed for the trouble it's causing - all of which chronicled as follows:
Paris: 3 days of meetings and mild weather for January. Except for the wind. My boss left the day after the rest of our delegation and as we took a lunch break at an exhibition across town, she was in the air due to land in time to make the afternoon session. When we arrived at the exhibition venue, we couldn't open the taxi door to get out of the car due to the wind. This same wind was wreaking havoc for air travelers. We started the afternoon session and I started watching my phone for news of my boss. Finally a text message came arrived stating that she was lucky to be alive and that it was the worst flight of her life. An hour later, another message conveying aggravation indicated that the bags were 90 minutes delayed onto the belt due to the wind because the ground crew could not open the cargo hold. Another hour later a message of relief arrived that she was in a car on her way and would never check a bag again - she's about 2 hours late to the afternoon session at this point. And, because these experiences are usually epic rather than merely inconvenient, another text message came through 45 minutes later that the police had stopped the car for being in the bus lane at which I exploded with laughter in the middle of the meeting and had to read it out loud. Once my boss triumphantly arrived to the session for the last hour of work, she indicated we would go for dinner immediately after the end of the session where she provided the details over white burgundy and the most divine green risotto. The turbulence in the air caused the plane to drop treacherously in its descent whereby the passengers in her cabin all held hands thinking that it was their last moments on this earth. The guys she was gripping were a couple and one of them was a runway makeup artist, who had been in the Gulf to take care of a member of the Ruling Family's public appearance preparation. The three of them stood next to the belt cursing the wind, CDG ground staff, and the fact that they didn't plan the packing to avoid checking a bag. The taxi stand was hideous once the bags came out so the makeup artist invited my boss into the private car that was waiting for them. This was the car that was speeding into the city to get my boss to her meeting and chose the bus lane for expediency. When the cops pulled it over, the makeup artist indignantly declared: I am calling Carla. Merd.
Petra: stay tuned.
Jeep: I left it in the garage for a week when the battery died and bummed rides with colleagues and called cabs until I took a day off to have it towed out of the garage and taken to the freakin' middle of the desert an hour away from town where the dealership's repair shop conducts all maintenance. Since my Jeep is still under warranty (until July) I have to take it there or I invalidate it. So I borrowed a friend's car who was at work and followed the tow truck. I entered the showroom and saw that the service agent I usually try to avoid was the only one on duty, which was an indication that I was in for it for the entirety of this experience. So I asked for the 40,000km service, a new battery, side rails so I can step more lady-like into the Jeep, both front indicator orange plastic light covers to be replaced (scuffed from tight parking garages) and anything else that needed attention that will ensure the vehicle passes inspection next month. It was a Thursday midday, so nothing would begin before Saturday and I did not expect a call until Sunday.
Sunday morning|incoming call from service agent: Madame, you need a new electrical system.
Me: No I don't. I need a battery. A big one. Goodbye.
Sunday afternoon|incoming call from service agent: Madame, you need a battery.
Me: Yes, I know. Pls install a big one. Goodbye.
Monday morning|incoming call from service agent while I am in a meeting: Madame, you have an oil leak. The gasket is about USD30 to replace and install but the labor to get to it is about USD520.
Me: Thank you. I'll keep the oil leak. Goodbye.
I don't have an oil leak. I park in the same space at work and the ground is not stained with this supposed oil leak.
Monday afternoon|incoming call from service agent: Madame, I have the right side rail. Should I install it?
Me: No. I want both side rails. Is the car ready? I need it tomorrow by 6:00pm and I am not taking any more calls.
Service agent: Yes, Madame. I will call you at 3:00pm tomorrow.
Tuesday morning|me from the cab that arrived late, after the PT arrived late to treat my shoulder at 7am, making me late to a meeting: Is the car ready?
Service agent: Tonight, Madame.
I leave at 5:00pm for the dealership and traffic is excruciating. If I get there after 6:00pm, I have to turn around and go back and try again the next day as the service agent cannot keep the place open for me. Silent meltdown in the backseat of the cab, which surely took the s-l-o-w-e-s-t route (visions of Holly Hunter barking orders in the cab in that movie I can't recall).
Barely get there and make my way to the service agent's desk who starts walking me through the labor charges. There was only one indicator plastic cap in stock and the labor to remove the bumper to install this dumb thing was approx USD 80 and I'll have to pay again to install the next one, if they ever get it in stock - - as if I am going to drive all the way out there for an orange plastic light cover. I insisted that the labor had to be removed because I was called for all kinds of nonsense but not about this and I would have refused the installation of the one that was available if I was informed that I would pay bumper labor twice. Mini meltdown. Another discount. And finally finished. If I had said yes to all the crap this guy called me about, my bill would have been 4 times higher, if not more. I suppose I meet the customer profile where profit is realized on bogus work.
Shoulder: a year ago while traveling on a train in Japan, I remember struggling with my heavy bag to get it onto the overhead rail. I heard something snap or tear or both in my right shoulder and thought I would feel it over the next few days. As the year passed, my yoga practice was increasingly curtailed such that I was minimizing the weight on my upper body to zero practice by September when I started chasing relief for what was then an aching shoulder. Started with the chiropractor and the ultrasound machines that can decrease inflammation - no results, problem worse. Sports massage at a luxury spa with kinesio tape - after 4 sessions - no results, problem the same. Acupuncture with cupping - after 2 sessions, no results, problem worse. Physiotherapist (PT) massage with freelance professional making house calls - after 4 sessions, marginal improvement but now in crisis and PT won't treat me until I have official diagnosis with x-rays and MRI. Diagnosis has been rendered across all this treatment spanning the range: too much stress, frozen shoulder, arthritis and bursitis, tendonitis and pinched nerve to calcification of the shoulder ligament. I finally sucked it up yesterday and saw a clinic doctor affiliated with my employer. I walked into the office and it smelled like cigarettes. He seemed disturbed by my arrival as the place was empty. As I described my problem and the array of attempts to address it, he made notes on a post-it. He wrote a Rx for Celebrex and referral for the imaging I need to figure out what's wrong. As a parting gift, I received a shot in the bottom with pain reliever - didn't even ask what it was since the nurses dealt with my paperwork and spoke with the doctor in Arabic. At this point, I don't care. I have to travel Tuesday and it's super cold in Paris which means packing a heavy coat and winter accessories and lugging around a bunch of documents. Given last month's baggage episode, I can't check. C'est la vie.
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