Dear Reverb10 prompts,

I haven't forgotten about you.

I have even read you.

Here you are, in all your glory.

Day 9. Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.

Day 10. Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?

What you inspire me, however, can be summed up as follow:

Blah.

I've already written all I was interested in writing about parties (whether or not dancing was involved).

I don't think of any of my decisions as wise. Good decisions? Certainly. Wise ones? I'm too young and foolish for something requiring as much experience, thought... and pretense as wisdom.

So here I am, facing the dry well of my withered inspiration.

Oh well, I'll just go and make some tea then. There's still some Jewish apple cake left.

Day 8. Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.

I have no interest in marriage and weddings make me uncomfortable.

I don't dream of my future house (and I don't see what's wrong with apartments) and home improvement bores me to tears.

I don't like chick flicks nor chick lit. They make me feel uncomfortably inadequate. Even the ones so many people like (Juno comes to mind).

Day 7. Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?

I find it rather unfortunate that, each time I read one of these prompts, the first answer that comes to my mind relates to dancing. You'd think it was the only interesting thing I did this year. When I wrote a whole PhD dissertation!

But that was one of the strongest appeals of dancing for me. The social aspect. Dancing, or rather going out dancing and organizing dancing events and taking (or teaching) dancing classes, allowed me to be part of a fabulous community. It filled my sense of belonging in a way I had never felt since I stopped playing in low-key orchestras. I made a handful of very good friends, of the kind you can spend hours with talking and talking and talking without any sense of how much time has gone by. But the community goes further than that; and no matter how important close friends are, I find it equally important to have a larger group of people you might not be so close to but can nevertheless relate to and get together with to do things you all enjoy.

As I was away for the weekend, I missed the three last prompts of Reverb10. Not to worry, though. I have answers.

Day 4. Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

Well, I am certainly not the kind of person who actively "cultivates a sense of wonder" in her life. Nevertheless, I danced and I traveled and both filled me with wonder so there's that.

Day 5. Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

I am in the process of letting go of my Californian life. It is going mostly smoothly and painlessly, but there can be a few hiccups. I do appreciate the hiccups as signs that I was having a good time there, despite working very hard, despite the pressure, despite wanting to leave.

Day 6. Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

I made roasted cauliflower the other day. With a cauliflower and an oven. Oh, and some cumin, too.

The only thing I want to make right now is a Jewish apple cake. I am pretty sure I will be able to clear some time for it.

I'm thinking that either I or these prompts are boring. Quite possibly both. They certainly make me feel like I'm not spending enough time in hemp clothes, meditating in the pigeon pose, sipping wheat grass drinks, or getting in touch with my inner self.

And so Reverb10 continues.

Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors).

Would it be the first time I tried blues dancing? I remember the toned down lights, the contrast between the music after hours of big band, and the way my partner slowly turned towards me. "You love it," he said. "And so do you," I replied. I remember focusing on the pulse-stretch, pulse-stretch, until I suddenly felt it. Deep down. The music. The pulse. The connection. I remember closing my eyes, intently listening to the voice of Buddy Guy, until the music slowly came to a stop.

It was only a few hours ago today that I was writing about "the possibility that I just find every single one of the next thirty prompts [of Reverb10] stupid". Well, instructions for Day Two are in and...

Writing. What do you do each day that doesn't contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?

Alright, it's not so much stupid as irrelevant. Reverb10 is meant for serious writers, not occasional bloggers whimsically futzing around with words. Which well, yes, of course, as 750words is behind the initiative, and 750words, being aptly named, is all about making yourself write, write, write. And even though, as a scientist (currently trying to write an efficient short communication), writing, writing, writing is a big part of my job, I somewhat don't think I'm in the target audience for that prompt.

I've actually had to read a few contributions (following Twitter's hashtag #reverb10) to make sure that the question was meant to be understood as something like "what do you do each day that hurts your writing" and bring a reflection on the useless, counter-productive elements of one's daily routine or approach to writing. Of course, my current daily routine is filled with useless, counter-productive elements: isn't that the point of taking time off? As for my days before graduating... did you really think you can finish a dissertation without eliminating all the things that don't contribute to your research or writing that you can eliminate?

But truly, my first reaction was more along the lines of "what is this I don't even" and wondering why someone would think that doing things, even on a daily basis, that don't contribute to their main center of interest is a problem. I do tons of things each day that don't contribute to my writing (or my research), I thought. Because I am not completely obsessed with it yet.

The fact that I didn't even understand the question at first is probably a good indication that I shouldn't try to answer it. That say, I do have a short answer: brushing my teeth. And no, I cannot eliminate it.

I am not writing as much as I'd like to. So I thought I'd give a try to the Reverb10 idea I've seen around. Reflecting on the past year and preparing the one to come? Seems like perfect self-absorbed blogging fodder. I'm going to try and stick by it as much as possible, although between those times I won't be in front of a computer and the possibility that I just find every single one of the next thirty prompts stupid, I think it wise to refrain from promising I will write every single day.

And as it took me all of yesterday to hear about it and then decide I'd do it, I missed doing the first prompt on December 1st. Anyway, here come Day One:

Bertrand suggested "Theresick", but after all, the United States were home for five years, whether I liked it or not, so homesick probably applies.

I've been dealing fairly well with the move, I think, and keeping myself busy enough on this side of the ocean that I don't miss California much (even when I'm told about fabulous dancing events or the weather, which, in any case, is unusually cold these days). I haven't cried since I took the plane who brought me back to Europe. I've been having a fantastic time here with friends or family, and a visit of my future lab and city has comforted me in the idea that the decision to come back was a good one and there are many more fantastic times to come.

Or rather, back on the Internet, as I've been back in town for a week now.

It's been a fantastic month. My mind is still whirling with a constant stream of images and memories, from Portland's bars to Monument Valley's jeep ride, from Chicago's street sculptures (by none less than Picasso, Miró, Dubuffet, or Calder) to the helicopter diving into the Grand Canyon, from Boston's clam chowder to the beautiful arches of Utah, from Washington DC's National Gallery to driving the 17 miles of dirt road of the Valley of the Gods at the wheel of a Hyundai Accent, from walking one last time on the beach with a couple of friends to my last dances in Southern California, from the laughters and hugs at the pub this one last night to the last precious goodbye words spoken or written to me...

There's been the confusion, too, of not knowing whether I was happy to be back in France, sipping a very drinkable coffee in a random café while reading the newspaper, gently hugging my grandma in spite of her steadier and steadier nagging about when I'm going to give her a great-grand-daughter, taking care of my dog, seeing my mountains again, slowly starting to turn to the bright reds and oranges and yellows of autumn... or sad to leave so many good people and things behind. I've finally decided it was possible to be both, and it's actually easier and easier to focus on the future and the bright possibilities it holds. Especially given the fantastic fellowship I got: two years of funding for me and extra money for my lab, as well as two months of intensive German classes prior the beginning of my research project!

I feel suspended between both cultures at the moment. Being in my hometown, a place where, let's face it, I never really fit, and which is clearly provincial, makes the differences stand out more than a city like Paris would. Shops close at lunch time; deaths are announced by means of small posters tapped to the walls of the various neighborhoods; and here I am, dancing to the sound of the swing music in my headphones, thinking about maths and postdoctoral studies and bioinformatics and moving to Germany, feeling both at home and quite out of place.

More importantly, I still feel pretty good about it all.

That's how you have to feel, when you leave a place where you've been rather happy for the best of five years, for, as they say, bigger and better things. So here comes the mandatory reflections well known of other expats all across the world, on having stretched your heart between two countries (or, in my case, two continents separated by the Atlantic Ocean — yes, I've been watching Eddie Izzard again.)

People have been lovely to me. They've certainly conveyed the message that they were sad about my leaving. (In some cases, jealousy might be involved. Cue the labmate who tells me "You guys are all moving away! I'm left behind on the fucking West Coast! I want to go back to Boston!") Since my final defense, I've barely had an evening on my own, and people have been wonderful at helping me having a fantastic time. It's been a whirlwind of celebratory and goodbye lunches, dinners, dancing (and when all the best dancers on the floor come ask you for a farewell dance, it would be hard not to be on cloud nine), bowling...