kali

So, kids, I'll be mainly off line till Sunday night, unless I go crazy and get the wifi in the hotel room. Unlikely, but you never know. Have a happy halloween, and there'll be an update when I return.

I'm starting to fear that this trip is just a bit jinxed. So far I've had a really hard time reading my Tennant paper (hofnarr made me a mourning band. I may wear it while presenting.

Yes, I am an enormous dork. This is news?

Last night was the resurrection of the stomach death which = no sleep.

Then I dropped my keys down the elevator shaft.

...

Think good thoughts; I've a feeling I'm going to need them.

I forgot to mention that while in DC, we had a little adventure, which I thought I ought to document for y'all.

We were walking down the hill from Adams-Morgan (where my cousin lived before leaving for London to take on his new job at The Economist) to Dupont Circle.

The dramatis personae: me, my cousin, and hofnarr, who for those of you who don't know - is tall, has got light brown hair, green eyes, and if he'd lived in Germany at the appropriate time, could've been a poster boy for Aryan pride (He grew a moustache once, and I called him "Franz" until he shaved it off. I am not always the nicest person in the world, but that's another story entirely.) My cousin, like myself, might also be described as Aryan, I suppose - but of a different stripe entirely, since we're Indian. Short, dark-skinned, etc. etc.

On our way, we happened to pass by the First Church of Scientology.

Visitors Welcome, proclaimed the sign outside. We eyed each other curiously, and then decided this was an opportunity that should not be passed over lightly.

We went in. Pictures of Hubbard's house everywhere. Past the foyer, I could see something with curved computer banks; it looked utterly futuristic, all white and blue, and blinking.

There was a girl at the reception desk; she said, "Hello," and her voice cracked nervously. We said we were tourists, and had heard a lot about this place, and thought we'd stop by.

She said we could have a tour; she pressed a button under her desk, and asked for a guide to report to the desk. We heard voices upstairs, but no one arrived. She kept jabbing at the button like it was a panic button or something.

We waited. Then finally, a gentleman appeared. He did not address me, or my cousin directly. He did however shake hofnarr's hand, and pressed upon him a business card. He did not give us the tour, but gently indicated that we might prefer to leave - and perhaps visit the Hubbard Museum instead.

If we had wanted to drink the koolaid, we couldn't have. Except for hofnarr.

These are the facts. Conclusions? I leave that for you.

World of Victorian magic & Doctor Who? Very cool. J.K. Rowling personally involved in my new fandom, not at all cool. Thank you very much.

Also, will be away from keys till about Friday afternoon/evening. D. & I are taking a little roadtrip up to Woodstock for the night - a very small minibreak. Should be fun. Massive hot tub, great restaurant, and most importantly, away away away.

Don't break the internets while I am gone.

I only have a few minutes before my wireless runs out, but thought I would pop in and say hi.

My paper, despite various a/v issues, a closed Toronto airport, Homeland Security and the general fuckwittedness of Continental airlines, went well - and I've been getting compliments on the panel. So yay! The conference is little and friendly; lots of good papers etc.

calloocallay and I have been having a lovely time, using lots of the orange ginger aromatherapy bath products (the hotel is really nice!), wandering about sampling used bookstores, and being utterly blown away by the the Osborne and Merill Special Collections at the Toronto Public Library (children's literature & speculative fiction, i.e. everything that I would ever want to read.) The library is kinda making me want to move...

Sigh. I've also got an email from Rich, my renaissance advisor guy wanting to talk about the prospectus - and I have to tell him I'm leaving him - after having committed dissertation adultery with my kidlit advisor. I did not write back. Any suggestions for what I should say gratefully accepted.

When next I write, I will hopefully have time to spin you the long and epic saga of my travels and travails, being guilty of the horrible crime of traveling while brown.

Hope you are are keeping the homefires lit - and looking forward to coming home...