Back from the Tumult

Back at last after a tumultuous few days. I’m feeling a little exhausted, and my throat feels a little scratchy. If I have strep throat again, I may as well shoot myself, ‘cuz I just don’t have time to deal. I’ve already ignored my long list of things to do by going to Baltimore and Washington last week. It wasn’t all frivolous, though: I went to the Miles 33 User’s Group Meeting out by the glamorous BWI Airport, and then down to Washington, D.C., for a visit with Jim and Frank on Friday and then a party and Kris and Casey‘s on saturday. Whoo! What a whirlwind!

Speaking of whirlwinds, I had the kookiest evening Thursday at Hurricane’s, the bar/dance club attached to the BWI Airport sheraton. Not only did I find myself at a trashy, packed airport bar in the middle of nowhere with former and possibly-future co-workers, but it was also ladies night at the club. As you can imagine, that made the whole thing even classier. But, just when we’d hit a good jaded-urbanites-dishing-the-townies groove, an assortment of cast members from The Real World and Road Rules walked in. No camera crews, no fanfare, just the sudden appearance of Jason, Kameelah, Kalle, Norman, and Matt (if I identified them all properly). Freaky.

Disclosure

Today’s long-overdue journal entry is gratefully dedicated to my long-time pal Joe, who I don’t see or talk to often enough to show how great I think he’s always been and how much I’ve always admired him. And I don’t say that because he’s the only person who’s ever written me to let me know he reads this stuff regularly and to complain that I’m not more diligent with my updates.

Joe, to answer your question in the briefest, least-bitter manner possible: The weekend before the last time I visited you and your lovely family (a much-needed escape which was thrown back in my face on more than one occasion), I was informed that my then-boyfriend was deeply unhappy with our relationship and was falling for someone else. We tried to sort things out as best we could, but I was subsequently dumped on Valentine’s Day, and “some three months of anguish and unpaid rent later” I was finally living by myself again. so I decided there was little reason left for me to stay in the slanty shanty in Fort Greene when I’d rather be living in a more spacious loft in Williamsburg. Though I certainly share the blame for all the many reasons things didn’t work out between he and I, I don’t think he handled the situation well once he chose the other fellow over me. I’ll give you the full story some day if you catch me in the right mood.

In other news, I’m officially going nuts with work now that school is in full swing again. Today, as a matter of fact, I’m battling the anxiety over having to write an art history paper for the first time in about seven years. Even though I write as much in the average day as I need to for this paper, the burden of having to write something is making me nuts. But I’ve had some great projects at Thirteen lately, the class I’m teaching this semester seems to be a good group, and megaTINY’s world domination looms closer and closer, so things are OK. Even if they’re a bit hectic.

OK, back to the innovative career of Piet Zwart: Typotekt!