"that's where the leprechaun lives. he tells me to burn things." ralph wiggum

praise the lord, it's only 83 degrees today. i can go outside without feeling like i'm an ant under a magnifying glass.

i am re-learning the difference between being an introvert and being a hermit. only talking to chickens for a few days makes me kind of weird. especially when the chickens seem to like attacking each other. it is good to have lunch with a wise and encouraging friend and going to see rent tonight in the city. those that live in the bay area refer to san francisco as "the city." never, never ever refer to it as "frisco." "san fran," perhaps. but never frisco. perhaps it is too much like "crisco." ew.

also re-learning that getting a job isn't so much what you know, but who you know. thus, my friend carol today introduced me to a woman with experience in the publishing world, who in turn will introduce me to another woman she worked with who has more direct experience in editing. i'll have my people call your people. and so on. good to take stock of things and refocus my energies. and to have face to face contact with people as opposed to the face-to-computer-screen interaction i have had lately.

one of these sundays i will stalk anne lamott at her church in marin. if only to tell her how much i love her books, much less pump her for job advice. in the small christian world anyway, there's bound to be somone at church here that knows someone who knows her. that's much preferable to stalking her. less chance of a restraining order.

i read memoirs of a geisha in the 2 days i was immoblized in the heat. 2 thumbs up. daring to take up the pen again to write, after a much needed hiatus from writing for several months.

the rhythm of social interaction is much different from school. it's so centralized there, especially since there's only one building for classes. schedules are more flexible, with periods of down time or procrastination. back in non-academic life, my friends are spread out over the bay area. they have more rigid schedules (except for my teaching friends). there is a larger degree of intentionality involved, less crossing of paths by chance. searching for a routine. missing living on one street with friends.