countdown

Last night I had my first feelings of something remotely related to home-sickness. I thought about how nice it would be to go have a beer at College Hill and sit in a booth, listening to the juke box. This initial thought, of course, then led to an entire avalanche of Greensboro mental images. Because, honestly, if you're already hanging out at the Hill, why not just walk around the corner for some Udon Noodle soup and Seaweed Salad at Sushi 101? Or some fried okra at Beef Burger? I even started thinking about places I almost never went to, like when I thought about getting a coffee at the Green Bean. I always wanted to frequent that place, I just never got into it... So, all of this reminiscing got me thinking (umm, that might be slightly redundant). If this is what happens after spending 24 hours alone in Ma Campagne (my neighboorhood), what if I were the sole English assistant in Barbézieux (pop. 2000)? Surrounding myself with the bustling metropolis of Angouleme, the grueling demands of work and the fellow-ship of 11 tower-mates was the hammock that kept me floating above homesickness and general solitude. Now, as someone who has always prided, or even defined, herself as someone overly capable of spending time alone, this comes as a rather hard news.

However, I will keep myself busy until my 6 AM departure on Wednesday morning. There is laundry to be done. Last minute things to be mailed. Train tickets to be collected. I have bought my Christmas hospitality gifts: a bottle of wine, a bottle of Pineau (the local beverage: a mixture of cognac and grape juice), Poulain chocolates, and creme de marrons (a spreadable chestnut paste). For those of you unaware, I am flying to Sicily for Christmas with the Scavone famiglia, then going to Barcelona for New Years. So, that's a train to Paris airport, flight to Milano, flight to Palermo, two nights in Palermo, then bus to Marsala, transformation into a pasta glutton whilst taking daytrips to Erice and Trapani, flight back to Paris, locate mysterious Terminal 3 in Paris airport (seriously, the first time I have ever heard of its existence), flight to Barcelona, spend 4 nights in Barcelona, night train to Limoges, 5:30 AM train back to Angouleme, teach a class at 5:30 PM. As per usual, I am sure that I will be kissing the cobbled streets of Angouleme upon arrival. Two week vacations are about all I can handle.

This free time will also be a good time to update this sorry blog. Many things happen daily that are worthy of being recorded, but so few ever reach the internet.