October 3, 2002

Like losing seasons for the Bengals, routine is inevitable, even 3000 miles from home. After one month as an expatriate, a soft drink sans ice is no longer unfathomable and every French building no longer resembles Versailles.

Before parents begin to worry if their little Colonels will decide not to come back to the States, I must say that now, more than ever, we displaced Danvillians still feel our hearts race when we rehash Goose's demise in Top Gun and would pay any amount of Euros for a country breakfast. We remain Americans, but Americans growing accustomed to a European life and landscape.

To keep things fresh, many of us have experienced new things, like rock climbing or paté. The first week of independent travel has passed without any missing persons or deportations, and plenty of good stories kept us talking on Monday. Our fearless leader, Dr. Bradshaw, is not one to let his students grow complacent, and has cleverly scheduled our first round of tests for the upcoming week-making Strasbourg seem all too much like Centre as some of us crack the books for the first time this side of the Atlantic.