Stone-Cold Sober Adventures
Much has happened since the last entry—too much, in fact for one entry. This should teach me to post more often, I suppose. Anyway, if I had been posting as much as I should have, there would have been posts with the following titles: (1) I Went to A House of Ill Repute, and Slept in Hackney; (2) I Had Brunch; (3) The Archivist Hates Me, I Think; (3) I Had Dinner with Elderly Musicologists, And Then Violently Vomited.
But wait, you say, isn't this "Stone-Cold Sober Adventures"? Yes, it is. Let's just say that if you've ever at a cheap-looking Scicilian restaurant off Tottenham Court Road, just don't order the ravioli, okay?
Since my sister reads this, it's probably best that I don't go into too many details about the House of Ill Repute. (The much-missed Bean Tails blog was brought down for lack of discretion on similar matters.) Let it suffice to say that it was pretty fantastic, with the normal provisos. Brunch was likewise good, if less scandalous.
When I arrived at the archive yesterday, I apologized for being a little late, and she said "Well, I know you don't keep very strict hours..." Her voice sort of trailed off at the end, as if she realized halfway through the sentence that she was saying something she shouldn't be. This comes after her earlier implication that I had not washed my hands as prescribed in the Readers' Guidelines, and her accusation that I was using a pen too close to documents. I though that she might think I was less of a doofus if she came and listened to my presentation to the Royal Academy seminar. (Did I forget to write about that here? It went well.) So yesterday, after having been accused of being an incompetent flake, I say, "I wanted to thank you again for attending my presentation." And she replied, "Well, since you were using some archive materials, I had to be there..." All I could think of to say was, "Well, thank you for not reading the newspaper during my talk?" She hates me.
After all day in the archive, I went to the Music and Society seminar that I skipped out on two weeks ago. It was not horrible, but the presenter needed to find a point in a bad way. I again talked too much during q-and-a. During dinner I may have been flirting with another seminar attendee (who was not elderly, like most of them). Then again, perhaps I was not. It was not entirely clear.
Then I got home and vomited. Today, I am feeling out of sorts. If I'm feeling better by three, then I'll go to Oxford for colloquium.
But wait, you say, isn't this "Stone-Cold Sober Adventures"? Yes, it is. Let's just say that if you've ever at a cheap-looking Scicilian restaurant off Tottenham Court Road, just don't order the ravioli, okay?
Since my sister reads this, it's probably best that I don't go into too many details about the House of Ill Repute. (The much-missed Bean Tails blog was brought down for lack of discretion on similar matters.) Let it suffice to say that it was pretty fantastic, with the normal provisos. Brunch was likewise good, if less scandalous.
When I arrived at the archive yesterday, I apologized for being a little late, and she said "Well, I know you don't keep very strict hours..." Her voice sort of trailed off at the end, as if she realized halfway through the sentence that she was saying something she shouldn't be. This comes after her earlier implication that I had not washed my hands as prescribed in the Readers' Guidelines, and her accusation that I was using a pen too close to documents. I though that she might think I was less of a doofus if she came and listened to my presentation to the Royal Academy seminar. (Did I forget to write about that here? It went well.) So yesterday, after having been accused of being an incompetent flake, I say, "I wanted to thank you again for attending my presentation." And she replied, "Well, since you were using some archive materials, I had to be there..." All I could think of to say was, "Well, thank you for not reading the newspaper during my talk?" She hates me.
After all day in the archive, I went to the Music and Society seminar that I skipped out on two weeks ago. It was not horrible, but the presenter needed to find a point in a bad way. I again talked too much during q-and-a. During dinner I may have been flirting with another seminar attendee (who was not elderly, like most of them). Then again, perhaps I was not. It was not entirely clear.
Then I got home and vomited. Today, I am feeling out of sorts. If I'm feeling better by three, then I'll go to Oxford for colloquium.
posted by Grrg at 1:54 PM
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