Still here!
I've been working and wandering around and getting angry and having nice little moments. The usual things.
I went to my professional conference in June. The good news - I had an awesome time. The news that is freaking me out - I was nominated as a program planner for the 2009 conference which means planning CE courses, conference sessions, open houses and such AND it's the centennial conference so it is all a big fucking deal. Gah. I can throw a party. I don't know if I can throw a CE course. I suspect that "Making the perfect gimlet" isn't going to be accepted as a topic for CE credit.
On the other hand...the first two days of the conference, we shared the conference center with a bodybuilding conference. Bulky, bumpy men that were a weird shade of burnt sienna, oiled up and posing in glittery codpieces outside our session rooms.
After they left, one of our conference hotels was hosting a plushie conference (for those of you who do not watch CSI, plushies are people who dress up in animal costumes and have sex - with the costumes still on, like a big mascot orgy. They are 'specially made with appropriate openings. Anyway). I was having late-night drinks at the Adams Mark with my librarian techie friends, and suddenly an irruption of totally wasted people in animal costumes stormed through the lobby and bar, shrieking about the joys of plushie sex and harassing the 'baldies'.
My yard is conspiring against me. It is growing things that I don't think belong in the flower beds, but maybe they do. The enormous hostas are looking desperate, though, so maybe not. Mr. Viper has successfully grown carrots, radishes, peppers and garlic. Tomatoes are forthcoming. He is such a geek that this garden has its own irrigation system on a timer.
My job is weird and hilariously frustrating and often inspiring and generally filled with enormous goodwill. I was told in my midyear review that I was "a force in the department" so my new workplace motto is BEWARE MY LASER BEAMS. I often say this in meetings. It produces a disconcerting array of giggles - nobody is impressed. They do feed me lots of donuts though, so their lack of fear over the laser beams is mitigated.
It is odd how I've withdrawn from online life, but I think that the move to here has demanded that I pay attention to the physical world in order to ground myself, and until I do that sufficiently, I need to live in a very present way in the environment. I knew NYC like my own bones. Boston is like living in a hair shirt covered in butter. I like to lick it, but I need to change my perception of the underlying fabric.
I went to my professional conference in June. The good news - I had an awesome time. The news that is freaking me out - I was nominated as a program planner for the 2009 conference which means planning CE courses, conference sessions, open houses and such AND it's the centennial conference so it is all a big fucking deal. Gah. I can throw a party. I don't know if I can throw a CE course. I suspect that "Making the perfect gimlet" isn't going to be accepted as a topic for CE credit.
On the other hand...the first two days of the conference, we shared the conference center with a bodybuilding conference. Bulky, bumpy men that were a weird shade of burnt sienna, oiled up and posing in glittery codpieces outside our session rooms.
After they left, one of our conference hotels was hosting a plushie conference (for those of you who do not watch CSI, plushies are people who dress up in animal costumes and have sex - with the costumes still on, like a big mascot orgy. They are 'specially made with appropriate openings. Anyway). I was having late-night drinks at the Adams Mark with my librarian techie friends, and suddenly an irruption of totally wasted people in animal costumes stormed through the lobby and bar, shrieking about the joys of plushie sex and harassing the 'baldies'.
My yard is conspiring against me. It is growing things that I don't think belong in the flower beds, but maybe they do. The enormous hostas are looking desperate, though, so maybe not. Mr. Viper has successfully grown carrots, radishes, peppers and garlic. Tomatoes are forthcoming. He is such a geek that this garden has its own irrigation system on a timer.
My job is weird and hilariously frustrating and often inspiring and generally filled with enormous goodwill. I was told in my midyear review that I was "a force in the department" so my new workplace motto is BEWARE MY LASER BEAMS. I often say this in meetings. It produces a disconcerting array of giggles - nobody is impressed. They do feed me lots of donuts though, so their lack of fear over the laser beams is mitigated.
It is odd how I've withdrawn from online life, but I think that the move to here has demanded that I pay attention to the physical world in order to ground myself, and until I do that sufficiently, I need to live in a very present way in the environment. I knew NYC like my own bones. Boston is like living in a hair shirt covered in butter. I like to lick it, but I need to change my perception of the underlying fabric.