Have you ever had the following conversation with someone?

Now you know that your friend isn’t exactly telling the truth. They must have been somewhere in the world at that exact moment in time. But thanks to a glitch in plans, I was actually nowhere for New Year’s.

It all started innocently enough in Portland. After a five hour delay, I was finally headed to Chicago. Much to my dismay, I missed my Paris flight by 30 minutes. Knowing the American Airlines flight schedule quite well, I know I will be spending the night since there’s only one flight per day. Although it had been a trying day, I realize I just need to roll with it.

The rebooking agent got me on the next outbound flight and handed me a voucher for a classy hotel near by. I use the word classy quite loosely because the hotels near the airport are anything but. But hey, it’s free and I even get a $10 food voucher so I can have an oh so nutritious dinner in the airport. Lucky me.

An hour or so later, I arrive at my hotel, ready for a shower and bed. And a meal. I glance at the dismal selection from the room service menu. Some well meaning marketing person had tried hard to make the meals mouth watering, especially since most of them start at $25. How about a plate of the “fresh catch of the day that the chef has lovingly prepared.” The only fresh water close by is Lake Michigan, so I think I’ll have to pass on that dish. I decide on a Caesar salad, a Santa Fe roasted turkey sandwich, and Oreos for dessert.

Since my dinner won’t arrive for another 45 minutes, I strip off all my clothes and take a much needed shower. I’ve been traveling/waiting for 12 hours now, so I desperately long to be clean. Since the airlines wouldn’t let me claim my luggage, the only items in my possession are my laptop, my purse, a cashmere robe, and my Bose stereo speakers for my iPod. (Thanks mom!) No toiletries, no change of clothes, no underwear, no makeup. But hey, I have a bed and shower, so I’m not complaining!

My meal arrives. It’s quite lack luster. The salad is drowning in a sea of dressing and the sandwich is limp. The sprouts heaped on top of the turkey look like instant salmonella. Accompanying the sandwich is something which could be potato salad – yet it’s slightly pink. I take a bite. Yep, it’s potato salad all right, but the pink stuff tastes like sweetened mayonnaise. Who ever heard of adding sugar to mayo? Then I encounter the oranges – tiny segments hidden among the pink, goopy mixture. Yeah, that’s a winner. Perhaps I’ll try to make it at home. (Pause)… NOT!!! (a little humor for you Borat fans).

I think I’ve found my calling. For all the traveling I’ve done, I’ve rarely found good room service food. How hard is it to whip up a batch of prosciutto-wrapped asparagus or a little field green salad with blue cheese and pears? Maybe I should start a room service revolution. Who’s with me???

I pick at my mean and then head straight for the Oreos. I can’t tell if the kitchen is trying to be cute or sophisticated. My 5 Oreos surround a dollop of fake whip cream (the kind out of a can) and the plate is decorated with random sprinkles of cinnamon. Perhaps they think this justifies the $5 I just paid – that’s $1 per Oreo. I tap the Oreos on the plate to rid them of the cinnamon dusting and wipe the fake cream on the starched polyester napkin. I twist each one open and lick out the cream, then slowly nibble at the chocolate wafers. Yeah, that hits the spot.

Fast forward 15 hours. I’ve boarded the plane and am sitting in my comfy business class seat. (thanks to lots and lots of frequent flier miles). We take off right on time. There’s barely anyone on the plane. I don’t blame the people who aren’t flying. Who wants to spend New Year’s Eve on a plane somewhere over the Atlantic? Or in my case, nowhere in particular.

I glance at my watch – it’s a minute to midnight in Paris. Since I’m nowhere, at what time to do I celebrate? Do I celebrate in the zone I’m heading toward or the one I just left? I opt for the former. With a glass of champagne in my hand, I toast to 2007. What a year 2006 has been. And I wonder what adventures I’ll find this year.

I wonder if spending New Year’s Eve straddled between two countries is a symbol of my life going forward. Will I spend the rest of my life between two places? I have a feeling that will be the case. I don’t think I could give up either country. So I’ll just have both.

I don’t have any resolutions for 2007. I’ve made them in the past, but always forget them by the second week in January. But I do know I’ll be practicing a lot of faith and endurance. I’m about to face the biggest challenges of my life – French internships. I’ll need both to see me safely through to the other side.

So if you happen to ask me where I spent New Year’s Eve, don’t be surprised when I say, “Nowhere.” I really did, and it wasn’t that bad!