I started writing this post in 2020, when I thought I would be writing approximately one year after rejoining the North American workforce. Before I left Germany, I had three blogs in my queue. Now, approaching four years later, my queue [from my expat assignment] still stands at three. Weathering upended social norms and my fading memory of my years as an expat, my photos — as much as ever — give me now two senses of nostalgia: one of general pre-pandemic life, and the second of what a younger me felt when traveling.
In the summer of 2019, I attended my fourteen-year “returniversary” to the Paris Air Show. The first time I went, I clicked away in exuberant glee toward the static display of the Boeing 777-200LR, consuming in two days practically all the film I brought with me on my eight-week study abroad program. This time, I’d tie up a 64 GB SD card, thought hardly any of it on Boeing metal with the 737MAX grounded.
En me brossant les dents 