It's hard to believe, but exactly one year ago I boarded a plane from Vancouver to Paris. In some ways, it seems like I never left, but in other ways, it seems like I was gone for a lot longer than 8 months.
I made some great friends over there, that I hope I'll stay in touch with for a long time to come. I was also able to visit some old friends, and was lucky to be able to do a lot of travelling while I was in Europe. Paris, Lille, Arras, Lyon, Cannes, Nice, Brussels, Florence, Rome, Naples, London, Amsterdam, Lausanne, Zurich, Stockholm, and the list goes on. I can't wait to get back travelling again. But at the same time I realize that I've got to do something "productive". (Why does life have to be productive anyway?). I'm back at school, looking at my life options. That's really quite scary. I had a meeting at my uni with the science advisor yesterday. It went well, except for the question that everyone asks (including me)
What are you going to be when you "grow up"?
My answer, "I don't know..."
Will I ever know? I hope so. Just don't ask me in the next few days, weeks, months, years. You get the picture.