Dudes! I made it. I’ve got to stop saying, “dudes”. What’s up with that?

I am here, as I type, at my gate. Gate B5, just in case you were wondering the precise gate location. In which case, I might be a bit creeped out, but that’s okay, cause I’m going to tell you anyway.

Crazy morning, crazy day so far. With so many funny things that have happened.

Let’s see, Brother and TC had a running bet that Big Blue was going to be over the allotted 50 pound limit. I was frantically trying to pack things last minute that were probably useless, but I just felt more comfortable with — like one extra pair of sandals and a box of Kashi GoLean Pumpkin Spice Bars. Yes, those are right in line with my three cans of Krema.

Is it any wonder that Madame Bizeau, at CVG check in, told me, in the most charming of French accents, “I am zo zorry, but zee bag is 54 pounds.”

TC looked all smug. Brother just shrugged his shoulders. TC, who was clearly expecting this, busted out with a reusable Kroger bag, “for all that shit you don’t need”. Which I insisted I needed. But what choice was there?

So I made it to 50! Check it, with picture to prove. I knew that, together, Big Blue and I would be quite capable of accomplishing the task at hand.

Next up: upgrade.

Naturally I thought dear Madame was talking about First Class, but alas, Non. More like a bulkhead upgrade. For $39, which at that point, what was another 40 bucks after $1800+ for the ticket? And I’m all about some extra leg room, and only having to deal with one other person next to me instead of five.

Done deal.

TC, was outraged, that he had never had such luck on his international flights with Brother 2 and co on their Germany trips. As he said, “had I known I could have gotten a god damn bulkhead seat, I’d be on this god damn flight with you.”

Yeah, “god damns” tend to run in the family.

By the time I checked in to the time I went through security and arrived B5, no more than 25 minutes had passed. Have I professed my love yet for the Cinci airport?

It might be on average, $400 more to fly internationally, but it is so worth it to avoid all that hassle. I’ll pay for convenience.

So not only did I quickly make it to my gate, but hot damn if there wasn’t Chick-Fil-A to boot. Does it get any better — indulging in french fries, chicken nuggets and Diet Coke. Oh, wait. That happened yesterday too. Look. One must get their Chick-Fil-A in prior to U.S. departures. It’s a must.

And here it is, Paris on the departure screen and me with Big Blue {totally had to get a shot of us together}:

We’re boarding in ten mins, so that’s my cue to shutdown, use les toilettes and go Paris dream … to think that the next time I write, it will be from PARIS!

The excitement mounts as I think of all the beautiful faces and places and sights and experiences awaiting me … in just a mere 8 hours.

Paris or bust, baby.