in which i attempt to pack thousands of artifact bags into my suitcase and not look like a drug dealer in the process.

I'm surrounded by debris and debating the merits of bringing trashy romance novels (of the True Blood sort) or archaeological texts to the field. I've settled on both (plus some Neil Gaiman and Nabokov) and so my carry-on is a rather strange mélange, especially since I've stuck the field microscopes in there, too. June 30th will see me head out to the field, Chicago to Paris, Paris to Abidjan, Abidjan to Cotonou. I'll be in Benin for two months

This is how prep for the field looks like, well for me anyhow--a complete disaster. Reminder to self: never simultaneously go to the field and move to yet another city. It brings new meaning to the word chaos.

I should get back to packing so let me sign off with the greatest archaeology-related article I've seen:
Archaeologists Discover Remnants Of Legendary Party Out By Train Tracks