At the czber cafe

This post is being brought to you by the letter z, and the conference cyber cafe. The blackberry isn't working, so here I am surrounded by people diligently checking their work email and generally being productive members of society. And did you know that on Swedish keyboards, the letters y and z are swapped from their positions on US keyboards, and the punctuation marks are all in the wrong place? Or, as this first came out...did zou know that on Swedish kezboards, the letters z and y are swapped from their positions on US kezboards. And if I trz to do an apostrophe, I get this: à.

So, Air France sucks ass. The seat was chronically uncomfortable, they didn't honor my seat request made when I booked, and I had quite possibly the worst airline meal I have ever had in my life. I mean, you expect the French not to be able to comprehend vegetarianism, so I wasn't expecting much, but my entrée consisted of over-boiled vegetables and white rice. Not a bit of flavoring or protein to be seen. At least the rice pudding had 4g of protein, and the teeny portion of camembert must have had some too, but honestly, it was baaad. They don't even bother to serve water during the flight, instead leaving bottles out in the galley for you to help yourself from. Which is easier said than done when you're stuck in a middle seat and have to climb over someone to get out. The yogurt that came with breakfast tasted like chemically processed goop. Then, at Charles de Gaulle airport they had the plane taxiing for so long and so far, that I figured they must be parking us at Orly aiport. Or possibly somewhere in Belgium. We had to take a bus all the way back to the most confusing airport terminal I have ever been in (and I've flown to/from weird places, such as Vladivostock and Bandar Seri Begawan, so trust me when I say it was bad). Then there was another bus ride out to the flight to Gothenburg. Hey guys, why not think about parking the planes AT the terminal? It might make life a bit easier. At least the snack served on that flight was palatable, having presumably been made in Paris, and not in Miami. Of course, when I arrived in Gothenburg, my luggage was nowhere to be seen. It seems to be a regular occurence, as it happened to 5 people on my flight, and when it arrived at my hotel later in the day, there were at least 3 bags that arrived with it. It's not so good to hang around in your dirty clothes for most of the day after an overnight flight. Mmmm, stinky!

I have to report, though, internet, that even with all those annoyances, Saturday was a lot better than Sunday. Yesterday was not my finest hour, people. I had 4 receptions to go to, but I got so steaming drunk at the first one, that I didn't make it to the other three. There was schnapps involved. Schnapps + Sarah don't mix. I fell down some steps going into a bar with some other reprobates who were getting boozed up at the reception. The BRUNCH reception that was from 12.30 to 2.00. You'd think that falling on the way IN to a bar would have alerted me to the fact that I'd consumed way too much alcohol already, but apparently not. But I'm not sure how much more I drank because the rest of the day is pretty much a complete blank. I have a brief memory in the bar of realizing that I could no longer speak coherently. I also have a brief memory of panicking on the streets of Gothenburg because I didn't know where I was. I have a brief memory of struggling mightily to open my bottle of Aleve back in my room. And then I woke up. In bed. At 10pm. Lord knows what the good people of Sweden thought of me staggering back to my hotel room at 4pm (or whenever it was) blind drunk. Thankfully, I appear not to have been mugged or raped, but my left ankle is fucked, and I have bruises all up and down both legs. Nice. Didn't manage to meet up with anyone else from my company who is here, but then I was expecting to see them at the receptions last night. That I was passed out for.

Hopefully tonight I will be more restrained. At least I only have two receptions to go to tonight, and they don't start until 6.30, so no lunchtime drinking required. I'm sure it's not exactly good for fertility to pickle my liver like this, but oh well. There'll be no more drinking after I get back home prior to the next IVF cycle. Or czcle as the keyboard wants me to say.