beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary
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I'm sitting in line for a ticket to hear Mikhail Gorbachev. Here in the student center of the World's Greatest University, they've just turned on the AC, for which I'm very grateful on this weird, damp, warm, windy mid-November day.
After standing nearly motionless at my loom from 9 am to 1 pm, now I'm sitting in a line with no guarantee I'll get a ticket, and the feeling that if I do get in, I'm about to be so hungry that I'll regret it.
Later, in my office. I gave up and went for a panetone and coffee, then came in to do a little work. It's a good thing I did, because I left my calendar in another office, the one across the river, and it turns out I have two early meetings tomorrow and the day after.
I love having many offices and no obligation to spend eight hours a day in any of them. There was one period a couple of years ago when I had keys or swipe cards to four offices in Harvard Square, but it did get complicated when I'd set the various blonkers to log me in whenever the computer booted up, and Kitty would try to blonk me and get strangers typing back, "I'm not Beulah, I'm Steve, the network resource person. "
So no Gorby for me. I was going to ask him if he knew whatever happened to the Transylvania Twist. I don't quite buy that it's now the Mash.
4:20 p.m. - 2002-11-11
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