Parlez vous twit?

disclaimer: I realize that bitching about making travel plans to Paris, city of lights, most romantic city in the world borders on the obnoxious...I'm going to do it anyway.

So, I've spent a good portion of the week fine-tuning our plans for our trip to France next month (hey, did I mention we're going to France??). Our lovely friend Laura helped us with the hardest part: making reservations at a tiny hotel in Dijon where they don't speak English, so I felt like I should handle the rest of it myself. This, maybe, was not the smartest move.

I spent no less than 2 hours attempting to buy train tickets from Paris to Dijon online. The fine folks at Trip Advisor.com assured me that this is a very simple process, even going so far as supplying me with step-by-step directions, including the exact thing I should select from each drop down menu in order to print my own tickets and save a bundle. Being fairly literate, I followed these directions to the letter. Despite this, no matter what I did, when I hit the "enter" button to select my travel times, the website directed me to the French version where things ground to a screeching halt. Me no speakey the French. I kept backing up and selecting ENGLISH... Bonjour! où vous aiment aller? back up..E.N.G.L.I.S.H. quel type de billet de train ? British Flag! British Flag, Dammit!! same thing...twenty-two times in a row.

I finally went to the Rail Europe site where they specialize in stupid Americans. They charge a little more, but I consider it a bargain compared to the therapy I would've needed after attempt #23.

I should, perhaps, start studying those French phrase books now.