i'm leaving on a jet plane... (II)

It's official. Less than one week before I come home! (six days to be precise.) And as much as I know I will miss France once I'm gone, I'm pretty ready to get back and see people and get a real job. I've applied for four so far, lab tech positions at Fred Hutch and UW, and some entry-level environmental microbiology position. No word back yet (it's been one day, to be precise,) but that hasn't stopped me from Ctl-R-ing my inbox obsessively.

Waiting. Waiting. Why is that when you wait for something, the closer it gets the more unbearable the waiting becomes, and not vice versa? I hate to wait.

In other news, visited Amsterdam, and it's a very lovely city. Saw the Anne Frank house (you can walk all through the hiding place) and the Van Gogh museum, then spent the rest of the time just wandering about and admiring the tulips.

Really not much more to say than that. I rode on a motorcycle, and drove it about a foot on my own before I dropped the clutch. I learned the rules to a so-complicated-it-could-only-be French card game, Tarot. I'm almost out of instant coffee, and conflicted as whether on not I should buy more given that I'm only going to leave. Probably will give in and buy some. Now isn't the time to try and kick a habit, anyway :) My bags are packed, I'm ready to go. Going to Paris tomorrow to see the Louvre one last time, and hopefully to see the Opera Garnier for the first time. This weekend might see the Picardie beach, and then it's off to CDG.

Welcome to SeaTac International Airport...

I'll miss the people I met here, the places I've seen, the foot I've ate (? eaten? done et up?), but man that's going to be good to hear!


Now to go hassle the bank about my final paycheck.

and you thought remembering where you parked your car was difficult!

Springtime in the Somme

Today felt like the first real day of spring, it was almost warm (balmy, even, by Picardie standards). Went for a walk in Parc St. Pierre and the cherry trees have blossomed, and there's some bush (musgate or something in French). May 1st is the national worker's holiday...celebrated by not working but by wandering around carrying this flower instead. It made the whole park smell sweet, and as it rained all last night and this morning, everything was in a bit hazy and overwhelmingly green. The Somme might not have many moments, but today was one of them.

Saw Andrew Bird in concert on Friday, after a delicious meal at Tante Jeanne (Aunt Jean) which is a resturant inside a converted old house on the Quai Belue...had grilled fish with cajun rice on top of a delicious dark chewy crepe and all washed down with equally delecious cider from Normandy.

(Speaking of food, strawberries are starting to appear in grocery stores! They're still a bit tart, but maybe it's better that way as slurping up the sugary juice syrup that is left in the bottom of the bowl is one of spring's greatest pleasures, selon moi.)


The concert was also amazing, it's basically a one-man show with the assistance of a drummer/tech guy, just try to imagine Mr. Bird running around in stripey socks throwing down his violin to grab his guitar to throw it behind him to play the glokenschpiel then breaking into a whistling solo, all the while tapping pedals to put riffs into loops and basically creating his songs from the ground up at breakneck speed. Did some Bob Dylan song I didn't know as an encore and it was shiver-inducing.

Had a going away party for the assistants last night in Noyon. Seems that everyone, myself included, is starting to get pretty nostalgic and reluctant to leave France, despite all our previous months of moaning and griping. It's only a month now! Hopefully will get in one more trip out of the country, and a few day trips, before I go. I really feel that I'm only just beginning to get the hang of existing in France now that I'm about to leave. Maybe I'll be back, I've been entertaining the idea of trying to do some graduate school classes here, but so far it's just daydreaming. But sometimes daydreams have a way of working out...

Speaking of finally fitting in, was walking home from the park when I was thwarted while trying to cross a bridge by a puffy white toy dog that was bouncing everywhere on its leash like a yoyo, and making it impossible for me to pass. Finally his slow-moving owner turned to me and explained apologetically while reeling in her puppy, il est juste comme un anglais... "he's just like the english...all you want to do is pass them on the left and they're always in the way!" I just smiled and agreed, knowingly and frenchily.

You know, those english.

Although they're probably more concientous about picking up their dogs' poop...