almost there.

friends, i like to think it is the home stretch. we check out of Bad Sublet Hotel this weekend, stay at least a night with our friends' dave and jen's cats in santa monica, and then finally meet our apartment on monday (in the morning, at least, before the moving truck arrives and i go to my historiography seminar. have fun, chris!).

it's been a tough couple of days. my first class was boring, which: it's okay, but still, pleh; and then today i went on my umpteenth attempt to have it out with the awards and support folks, and found out that the reason the money i thought i was promised has not materialized is because it doesn't exist. tears ensued, but they're trying to make it right. and i'm berating myself for having moved out here on a handshake. if you are my parents, just know i'm not being intentionally vague, it's just a long story. the number i heard in the brief phone conversation in march that set all this in motion turns out not to be the one that's in the computer. it's not clear whether i misunderstood, there's been a snafu, or some combination of the two. increasingly credible, however, is the hypothesis that UCL@ is run by chimps.

how academia workz.

someone says, call for papers! you think, i'll write one!

send off fifty word abstract. receive word of acceptance; be pleased. shuffle email to bottom of pile.

six months later, whatever part of you thought it up is dusty and hungover and has enough to do keeping up with current demands. it also has gotten conflated with the part of you that doesn't know which moving box you put your great-grandmother's crystal decanter in.

i thought i could leverage some writing i'd already thought out. it looks to me now, though, that i gussied up that abstract so it would sound better, and got aways away from my intended, pre-fabbed argument--and possibly gussied my way right into some all nighters and acid reflux. first quarter! moving! our godson's baptism! october is suddenly huge!

the problem is that it all starts with the fifty words. it's like buying something on very bad credit terms; the piper always comes back around. and he wants a powerpoint presentation with that cogent thesis, thanksverymuch.

maybe i'll just do a little dance for them instead. and see if my advisor sends me back to washington heights in a cardboard box.

Don't Take Your Love To Town

We've made our first Major Married Purchase today . . . her name is Ruby.

ugh.

i cannot wait until school is over and we choose a place to live and go there and never move again.

he took me out to the ballgame.

i'm late reporting, but this week saw my first visit to major league baseball game. c. had tickets to go and a date who bailed, so we jumped on the train. sixteen minutes later: yankee stadium!

and man, it is way better than i thought. it's open air, warm and soft, and a giant vista; it's spending the evening outside!

luckily i was in the giant line for the ATM and beer during the Bad Bad Inning, telling the tipsy college boys behind me that i was in the witness protection program for infomring on major securities fraud. actually, i didn't care about the score so much, just the popcorn, beer and the outside. so nice.

okay!

here goes!

the blog is not dead. the blog was sleeping in order to surprise you loyal readers (mom) with a renaissance! or at least weekly postings! shazam!


let's begin with this: if you sent us a wedding gift and we have not thanked you yet, it's because there's been a long sort of supply chain. we got the boxes and boxes of generous bounty (booty? can i call the gifts that inaugurate our marriage booty?) to my parents' front room, where they have stayed for weeks. mom's mailing them to us in small batches--huge, thankless chore, immense gratitude--so the thank you process is a little delayed. our thanks may have suffered retardation, but are no less sincere.

and from there, let us move to honeymoon photos, not in chronological order:










more photos here!