It’s just so bizarre that I could fall asleep in New York on Sunday and, after a bit of sleepwalking and bag-shifting, wake up in Oslo. The place is a brighter version of what I remembered. My room seems bigger and more comfortable (although the kitchen seems smaller and dirtier). The days are quite obviously longer, and while there isn’t the layer of snow I half-expected to see there is a giant river of ice flowing all the way from my parking lot to campus. At least it’s out in the open — I haven’t fallen down yet, knock on wood.

I was really impressed by SAS. We flew in a roomy, new, clean plane. Every seat had a touch screen with movie and music selections as well as this slightly nauseating feature which displayed a feed from a camera mounted at the front of the plane. Because it was a redeye we did not see much besides takeoff and landing, but that was quite enough for me to decide, whatever my other career indecisions, that piloting is not for me. I had an aisle seat in the 2-part of a 2-4-2 seating arrangement, and there was nobody sitting at my window or the aisle across from me. The food — snacks, dinner, and breakfast — was all surprisingly edible. It was like some kind of airplane witchcraft.

When I landed there was something wet and sour-smelling oozing from my bag, and I was convinced that my bottle of gin had snapped its neck off. I made myself sick worrying over it, but I didn’t want to open my impossible-to-zip bag in public just to have it erupt in booze and broken glass. I’d wrapped it up so well, the only thing I could figure was that my bag had been inspected and some careless or malicious creature had placed the bottle back in a vulnerable position. So much for my nice new shoes and silk dresses. Maybe Annie’s would taste better after a gin bath? We’ll never know, because when I got back to my room and surveyed the damage it turned out to be saline solution in an outer pocket, not a drop of moisture in the main compartment, and not gin at all.

I still haven’t unpacked much besides the food (which I’ve been eating). It’s a lot of work to make and eat three meals a day! I had forgotten with all the delicious home-cooked breakfasts and restaurant splurges I enjoyed over the break. The initial euphoria I felt at successfully navigating the streets of this now-familiar foreign city and curling up in my own warm bed wore off as soon as I woke up this morning and pulled the American coins out of my pockets. Those will be useless for a while. It was such a good vacation, and New York was so thriving and full of friends. Everything is easier back home; anything unfamiliar is at least instantly comprehensible. Walking over the ice river through the woods the full daunting, exhilarating weight of living and working over here settled back on my shoulders.

I met up with Marie at the waffle cafe this afternoon, which cheered me back up. While she was home in Seattle she went to some UW international student meetings and played tricks on the Norwegian students. Her favorite thing was to pretend to be a stupid American (”Oh so where is Norway? Over by Belgium?”) and then switch to speaking fluent Norwegian mid-conversation. Crazy girl. We are bartending together at the Uglebo quiz night tomorrow, which should be fun. I also ran into Jeff, who landed a great job translating between Norwegian and Polish. A job sounds like such a good idea right now, I just don’t know what my limited combination of time and talent would get me.

So, if you define home as where my books are, I am safely home and warm and fed. I’m looking forward to a fresh semester of research and then even more of this moving on business.