Time is wildly fickle. Why do the days keep passing even when I'm not looking at a calendar? How does a month become three weeks and then two weeks? "Two weeks" -- what a taboo. In two weeks, as I'm coming to accept only in my mind (if I say it aloud, I get a shudder), I will be packing up, leaving this little town for one last grand European adventure before returning to the American adventure I've been living.
During the past week, I've been to a wine and cheese party as well as a Brazilian barbecue. In between, I've been filling my time frantically compiling thirty pages of writing for an intercultural comparison between France and the United States. As I step back from that paper, I'm looking up at that tricky calendar. It was like I expected to be permanently a month from leaving, in the same way that the month we passed in Appart'City was a whole lifetime.
Whether I want it to or not, time is passing. While we finish up classes, I'm lifting my spirits with finely crafted pastries and new cheeses. This week, comté and gouda have been taking our worries away. I might not be giving my whole heart to studying, but I gave the Les Capucins market a few good hours, discovering what the French had to offer at this garage-sale-esque market. I've practiced (a very small amount) of Portuguese while procrastinating finishing the intercultural study. I have a few Parisian adventures still awaiting me in the coming week; I'm making a bucket list of must-do's before I leave France.
Much is waiting for me back home. It still feels unreal, but when I get home I will be returning to my whole family. My mind is now wandering to United States adventures, which places I will go next (I always seem to skip the present, no matter how exciting, and dream of things too far ahead). I have restaurants to try, museums to see, cities to explore. I'm not sure what the transition will be like, changing back to courses that require my complete attention and weekends. Of course some changes are permanent, like my newfound addiction to the news. However, I will probably abandon things like Nutella by the spoon, and I won't often have reason to stuff my life into a small black backpack. From this appreciation of newfound hobbies and interests stems a pursuit of new interests. When I get home, I envision myself diving into exercise and even crafts. This time away from engineering has made me miss it; I can't wait to immerse myself in research when I return to Champaign. I always have a million visions for the future, but this trip is teaching me to realize them today, not tomorrow.
This post is meant to be more hopeful than somber; I truly love it here and the people I've met here. I have to milk these last days for all they are worth; it is now less than two weeks instead of more than two weeks. Even a post this small can be slow for me to get out sometimes.
One thing I am looking forward to with certainty is the continuation of this blog. There are at least ten drafts started and many more adventures besides that to cover. I can't wait to recount them for you and for myself.
Love + Bisous + Beijos + all those things ~
