Or rather, back on the Internet, as I've been back in town for a week now.

It's been a fantastic month. My mind is still whirling with a constant stream of images and memories, from Portland's bars to Monument Valley's jeep ride, from Chicago's street sculptures (by none less than Picasso, Miró, Dubuffet, or Calder) to the helicopter diving into the Grand Canyon, from Boston's clam chowder to the beautiful arches of Utah, from Washington DC's National Gallery to driving the 17 miles of dirt road of the Valley of the Gods at the wheel of a Hyundai Accent, from walking one last time on the beach with a couple of friends to my last dances in Southern California, from the laughters and hugs at the pub this one last night to the last precious goodbye words spoken or written to me...

There's been the confusion, too, of not knowing whether I was happy to be back in France, sipping a very drinkable coffee in a random café while reading the newspaper, gently hugging my grandma in spite of her steadier and steadier nagging about when I'm going to give her a great-grand-daughter, taking care of my dog, seeing my mountains again, slowly starting to turn to the bright reds and oranges and yellows of autumn... or sad to leave so many good people and things behind. I've finally decided it was possible to be both, and it's actually easier and easier to focus on the future and the bright possibilities it holds. Especially given the fantastic fellowship I got: two years of funding for me and extra money for my lab, as well as two months of intensive German classes prior the beginning of my research project!

I feel suspended between both cultures at the moment. Being in my hometown, a place where, let's face it, I never really fit, and which is clearly provincial, makes the differences stand out more than a city like Paris would. Shops close at lunch time; deaths are announced by means of small posters tapped to the walls of the various neighborhoods; and here I am, dancing to the sound of the swing music in my headphones, thinking about maths and postdoctoral studies and bioinformatics and moving to Germany, feeling both at home and quite out of place.

More importantly, I still feel pretty good about it all.

Well, no, don't scratch it. All what I said there is true. But above all, I'm happy, and that's what I'm the most thankful for. So there.

I don't believe I am jet-lagged. It's more that I am a bit overwhelmed. I have spent a little over three months away from California. A lot has happened.

My stay in Israel was quite an experience. Discovering a new country, a different culture, a new type of work environment also; all that was very exciting. Then I traveled some more. I am only now fully realizing I was indeed in Jordan for a few days; the trip was that intense.

Emotionally speaking, the last two weeks have been draining; it was all about leaving or being reunited with people and places. The few days I spent in Paris made me feel more than ever how much I belong there, in these streets and among my friends. And then of course there's the family drama I vaguely mentioned here or there. I will not expose the details here for the world to read, but there were tears, and pain, and humiliation, and anger, and this terrible feeling of waste and destruction.

Things here are pretty much the same, although there are a few slight differences that constantly remind me that I was not here. E has a baby seat in his new car. The new building is finished. There is a new traffic light. K wears her engagement ring. And our new roommate is well settled in.

In a way, however, the best thing about being back is that I am taking a break from the unknown. I'm slipping into my old habits with delight; being tired from the trip doesn't matter much, because I can just get by automatically. I'm doing things before realizing I meant to do them. And I don't have to worry about people not understanding me anymore, which is really relaxing.

So yep, I am back. And you might have heard that I am scheduled to graduate in about a year (the final date will be decided of around Christmas). This prospect might be just what I need to move my butt and do some kick-ass research in the coming months!

Does anybody even reads these pages? Well, it's always worth mentioning in case someone who doesn't read French inadvertently stops by.

Otir is having a fundraiser to purchase a refurbished iPod Touch for her autistic son, Mr. Ziti. It goes without saying that said iPod could very well turn out to be a very useful tool to help him develop new activities and become more independent. Please read more about it here and, if you have five dollars to spare, ponder whether it wouldn't be an awesome, awesome way to put them to good use.

If the fundraiser is so popular it's over by the time you get there, or that you're feeling extra-generous, feel free to chip in for F.E.C.A., the specialized school Mr. Ziti attends.

(Oh, and I almost worked overtime today so no surprise if my English is all broken.)

My internship in Israel is drawing to a close. In a matter of days, I'll have given my last talks, completed all the paperwork related to the termination of my employment, wrapped up my final report, made sure there is at least one person who knows when and how to use the code I wrote, and maybe even gotten some results, although I'm not very optimistic about that last one.

Then, if everything goes well with my visa (I have no reason to think otherwise but better be cautious, everything will be between the hands of the Ministry of the Interior tomorrow), I'll pick up my mum at the airport, and we'll set off for a week of tourism in Israel and Jordan. I want to show her Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, and maybe Masada. I've also booked a three-day tour of Jordan for the two of us. Although I still don't have the final confirmation on that one.

On September 10 I'll close my bank account and my P.O. box. On September 11 I'll hand over the keys of the apartment to my landlady and pay the phone bill, then we'll fly back to Paris. I'll be in France for eight days, visiting family and friends as much as the short period of time, busy schedules, and distances allow. Then on the day before the quarter kicks in I'll fly back to California, where I'll be happy to be reunited with friends, lab, pleasant weather, dance partners, an apartment.

It's been ten years since I moved out of my mum's for the first time. Over the years I've had less and less belongings left at her place, and I've been back less and less frequently. We've moved from talking on the phone almost every single day to roughly once a week. I've lived in three different countries other than France. I've had about ten different bedrooms, although I might have lost count. I've accumulated knowledge and knowhow, friends and places to miss dearly, degrees, health issues and ways to deal with them, cultural shocks, heartbreaks, happiness, reasons to laugh until I my abs ache and reasons to cry until there were no tears left in me. I've grown up, tremendously.

It's been four years since I moved to California, as I wrote about in French here, where I've been, overall, the happiest of my adult life so far.

So don't be surprised if I'm busy pondering, assessing, planning, reviewing, and generally overthinking what my life has been so far and where I want to take it. Not mentioning how to take it there.