an excerpt from a project for rachel j:
when i flew from cameroon to france i was alone, and had caught malaria two days before. i had a series of tiny plastic bags with medicine in them that i was supposed to take at different times of the day, multiple times a day. i lost track. i got a front row to myself near the bathroom and never thought i'd ever want to be back in los angeles that bad. when i left switzerland it was a week early; in a fury of sadness and a silent declaration of freedom i left in the morning before anyone was up and took the bus back down the mountain as it snowed, got on a train to lyon and called my new friend jessica and asked if she could put me up for the week. from megan's in brussels, i met tobin in paris. and this in the days before well functioning and affordable international cell phones, arrangements were made via email and you stood in the train station and hoped to catch the eye of your long lost american friend, who, in this new european context, looked more like themselves than they ever did at home.