Jennifer in Luxembourg

At my desk, since I moved to Luxembourg, hangs a pink index-card sized post it. There are only 4 letters: C, N, L, H. And long strings of numbers after. The coordinators of four different locations: Cleveland (where I came from), Norwood (where I was), Luxembourg (where I was going), and the coordinates of a colleague and friend’s home, which is always open to me. I looked at it more often when I first moved here, but now it remains more as a comforting blanket I know is hanging on the wall. There were a lot of unknowns when I was given that pink post it, and a lot of thoughts if I’d ever have that home always welcome to me here. I do have it. I know I have the homes of many colleagues across Europe, and many friends in Luxembourg open to me. But none more apparent than the invitation to the parent’s homes of one of my colleagues and now closest friends. I was intrigued when she first invited me to her parents for the holidays and break. And the more I mulled it over, the more I reme...

It’s bitterly cold, as I click-click my way on the promenade. All around me, I hear the staccato beats of everyone’s boots clicking away. I fit in with the throng of people rushing along La Defense- long dark coat, thick scarf, bag/backpack, and clicking boots. My eyes have full make-up and my lips hold a deep purple tint. I’m feeling quite pleased with myself this morning, as my phone remains securely in my pocket; unneeded for directions to my destination. I left my house at 420 AM, dressed to the nines, to board a train for Paris. As we zoomed through the dark French countryside, I had my breakfast of a delectable huit pastry and created a presentation for the morning. Exiting the train, I could just see the scraps of light peeping out over Gare d’Est in Paris. I was proud to remember the two metro lines that would get me to the RER trains that would take me to the office. I connected at one of the biggest stations in Europe, and all my Parisian experiences surged through my body as...

It's after 1AM, and my feet have the ache of standing for way too long. I'm sitting at my dining table, the cloth still bearing  small stains reminiscent of the dinner had here just a few hours ago. The cozy racoon  and fox tablecloth adorns the foldable plastic table, borrowed from friends, to my right.  There is a stillness in this room now, that just a few hours ago was filled with cheerful chatter, so late into the evening the neighbors knocked on the door.  Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I relapsed on Christmas Eve, so Thanksgiving feels the only untouched holiday. I appreciate the non-commercialization of it, and the moment simply of gratitude.  From my first class I taught, which was entirely European, I realized that their perception of Thanksgiving was entirely from movies. But many are excited to experience what this American holiday is all about. And so last year I hosted my first Thanksgiving away from my family. And now, my second, bring...

I’m sitting at my desk, the air mattress deflating to my left. The house is quiet, save for the clack of my keyboard. My body is TIRED. It’s been a full two days. But amazing. I picked M up from the train station yesterday morning, and dropped her back this afternoon. Two-ish days here in Lux. Two days that she took vacation time for. Two days that she fought to pay for meals and snacks. M was part of the Academy. We didn’t work a ton together, as her role had her in a different building than me. But as my time was coming to a close, we ended up first at a Jonas Brothers concert, and then on a few projects, working more closely together. And found out our birthdays was a literal day apart. As kind as she was, the pinnacle was when she shared her office birthday celebrations, on her actual birthday, with me, whose birthday was the next day. As my time in Boston drew to an end, we got to interact much more, and I was sorry to move away from such an incredible human. So I wasn’t overl...

I’ve had a rather unexpected spot of homesickness recently. I’m not sure if it’s the post-family post-event blues, the upcoming Thanksgiving holidays, or just missing the stunning New England fall and crips weather and walking around in jeans and flannels and tall boots. Regardless, I’ve found myself unlocking my mailbox daily before I enter my building. I’m the type that is typically lucky to unlock it once a week, as I normally get nothing but bills and junk mail. So every day, it’s been a roller coaster of emotion as I unlock it, see the existing junk mail I can’t be bothered to throw away yet, and lock it back, as I prepare to sadly enter my quiet apartment alone. Today, I got home earlier than usual, but also in a bit of a different mind-set. I’d just said goodbye to a friend/colleague (separate post), and I always get the post-visitor sadness after. I almost didn’t unlock the mail box, but as I had to put my heavy bags down to unlock the door anyhow, I went for it. And to my h...

I sat for a moment on a stone too small for my butt, but a moment of respite regardless, and breathed a sigh of pride. Stage 4 cancer. twice. Type 2 diabetes. Type 1 diabetes. Borderline cardiac function. Diminished pulmonary function. Beginning fibromyalgia. Beginning arthritis. So. many. freaking. health issues.  And yet.  I did it.  I hiked the top of the cliffs of Tulove Grede, part of the Velebit mountain range. Granted, I didn't hike from all the way at the bottom... but still. It was over 250m/800 ft almost straight up, with loose rocks and barely a path at all. More than 2.5 km to be hiked in less than 2-hours as we had a timed cave entry next. Add to that steep elevation the Bora winds, which flow over the top of the mountains, often reaching hurricane speeds. We clocked the wind at 87 kmh for most of the hike; it absolutely sucked the air right out of my lungs. Paired with that, the fact that the temperatures were way colder than predicted when I packed my...