Paris Triscuit

Paris is not Nashville.

In Nashville, when people see you point a camera in their direction they do this:

I miss you, Nashville!

In Paris, when they see you point a camera in their directon, they do this:

Yeah, that’s a hairy eyeball.

And at my house, when you point a camera in the backyard, you get this:

Nashville Skyline

This is me, at Parnassus Books in Nashville, last Saturday — Bastille Day — yakking about Le Road Trip:

The author takes a minute to familiarize herself with her own book, in front of a bewildered audience.

I hope nobody noticed my crappy Gap trousers that I had to wear because I forgot to pack my dressy grey [...]