By day 3, tous mes rêves etaient en français

It was the way my eyes




when I landed in Londontown after saying goodbye to the Irish Frenchwoman who drank a lot of wine on board the plane and spat on me in her enthusiasm as she commented on my SF-SF (sang-froid | savoir-faire) in reaction to a comment that I would move to SF in a few.




Eyes drink when they can see, not just see, but SEE, , la compañía aérea no me dieron mis boletos segundo y tercero a Estrasburgo to the skeptical airport woman in MadrI’d forgotten my ID, or it had run away from me, or it crawled out, or something, which was a pain when I went to le resto U to work a little and eat a little with some strangers.

“So you’re from the US?”


“For study abroad?”


But you’re living in France?”


“As part of a program?”

Uh, no.

“So you’re doing research?”


“In a lab?”

Not quite.

“But you’re working with a professor?”


“From France?”

No, not France.

“You said you’re working?”


“With a French visa?”

Uh, no.

“With people around the world?”


“So is it a French company?”


“You are racing, though?”


“With a US team?”

HAH! No.

“With French teammates?”


It’s a full house, 3 girls and 2 guys my age. Erika from Ecuador. Natalia from Costa Rica. Kristy from…… Syracuse. Hugues speaks to Natalia in French who speaks to Erika in Spanish while I chime in with Spanish that disintegrates into French that Kristy replies to in English after Claude nods.

I found a really cool rainbow tie dye balloon outside the Conservatory
after Kristy’s concert but then I popped it accidentally.
RIP really cool rainbow tie dye balloon.

And the dream? The dream is when I’m awake. It’s my job that’s never felt like a job because it’s just me, like an eyelash or a smile or a scar. It’s my research that’s never felt like research because it’s been play, a treasure hunt, easter eggs, Sunday-morning crossword puzzles. It’s my bike that’s… well, it’s always felt like a bike, the routes up and down mountains in the Black Forest that I’m dying itching killing to ride right now.

It’s me making a wish into the belly of the Cathédrale, it’s the wish coming true. Because when a wish comes true, it’s called dreaming with your eyes wide open… so that you can really See.

See, by night three, with the windows gaping wide as I made love with the Strasbourg night,  tous mes rêves etaient en français.


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