Lady Crumpet's Armoire


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October 13, 2002

I just reread my Friday

I just reread my Friday Five and realized #1 might have scored rather high on the Narcissus scale. No, I don't listen to the bonus live disc in order to hear my loony words of love shouted from the audience. Just that the album has a special place in my heart because it captures such a precious personal moment. Officially! What's ironic is that I gave the disc a couple of spins before it sunk in that my voice was on it. When I did, I started to hyperventilate and had to rush to the mailing list and giddily declare myself to my people. (We're very good at rooting for each other.)

Lady Crumpet's social calendar continues in high gear. Friday night - casual dinner at Tommy's with Scott and some colleagues (buds, really) from school. Pints of brew and Scrabble at the Kountry Korner. Lots of political science posturing - at some point I just faded and took a nap in the car. They're all really fun, cool people to hang with; and yet at times I feel dorkish - not quite smart enough, not quite cool enough. It's nothing that anyone has said or done or at all conveyed, but the sense (or lack of) is there in my head nonetheless, probably to do with just being around real academics.

Saturday - rolled out of bed at some point. Got ourselves going and opted to drive to the city - our last film festival screening, Monday Morning. We hoped afterwards to make a party thrown by some of the faculty all-stars, so we braved city traffic. The mojo that seems to work for me in conjuring taxi cabs and invoking subway trains apparently does not extend to finding free street parking. So we gave up and I pointed Scott to a parking garage - the privilege for which we were charged parking fees, sales tax and parking tax. Bummed around downtown for a bit - it's been steadily finely drizzling, so a good day to tackle the bookstores. Good finds at Twelfth Street Books and the Alabaster Bookstore (whose moody tortoiseshell cat is named Houle). Happily came across The Female Quixote (read by Austen more than once!), New Cardiff (since made into a movie that will star Colin Firth), and 84, Charing Cross Road.

Monday Morning ran a bit long but was lovely. We made it out of the city - a bit tricky, but my mental geography isn't quite as vague as I thought. Got to the party, which was still in full swing and just about all of the department was there. A fine array of sophisticated drinks and nibblies and I actually managed to chat with people. I sort of go into manic giddy mode, trying to ask questions, stuff my face, swig some drink, lest I fall into wallflower mode. I guess that's part of the social contract, trying to come up with interesting conversation and being an interested listener, getting people to talk about themselves. I can listen better than I can talk. Alas, ended up playing Anne Elliott, trying to keep one of the more depressive personalities from just standing alone and being ignored. But at some point a man has simply got to help himself. Or get counseling.

Today's agenda: Get started on next project so as not to lose ridculous amounts of sleep the night before it's due. Find a portable external CD burner. Head to Brooklyn to see Secretary and celebrate Jen's upcoming birthday. Get home at a somewhat reasonable hour, since I still have to report for work tomorrow.

Yours, &c., LC | 09:02 AM |