beulahbondo's Diaryland Diary
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sticky wickets
I'm ordering stage manager supplies today. These will come in handy, I'm sure.
The end is near, says Mr. Ron Coe of East Cambridge, soon to be of New York City alas. A somber ping-pong party last night, enlivened by BuniStG's homemade molasses snaps and pretty blouse, as well as by the Greyhound and his pretty blouse. I drank some sort of caramel liquor. Tasty!
My job interviewathon went well. I didn't insult anyone or make any unsound cracks. The best part was being interviewed by the student curriculum committee. Nice kids; not showoffy, not smart-assy. Do I want to take another f/t teaching job though? It means I spend Sunday nights planning and grading; M-F nights grading; any trip to the coffee shop is accompanied by papers to grade; and those bleary early mornings.
I made summer dresses with Christina (the Greyhound points out, rightly, that that is her real name. I know, I know) on Sunday. One of mine is so immensely complicated that I could put a Japanese designer name on it and sell it for hundreds of dollars. We worked without patterns, just pins, sharp scissors, and lots of Stitch Witchery. And our own peculiar brand of anti-fashion fashion moxie.
Harvard College has a new dean. His name is Dick Gross.
4:17 p.m. - 2003-04-08
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------