somewhere in Vancouver

“Please remember, this is a nonsmoking flight. If we find you are smoking, we will ask you to kindly step outside.”
— Flight attendant on very, very delayed Alaska Airlines flight, successfully trying to lighten the mood

Hello from lovely Vancouver, where it is at least a time zone I recognize (or did, before last week’s trip, which I like to call “My Luggage Is Back in Newark and So Am I”). I’m attending a grantwriting workshop, which is delightful not only for the content, but also because I really really like school. I know, I’m weird. The instructor had to start pretending not to see my raised hand after the first two hours. She is handling it graciously, but I’m a nightmare student and I know it. I’m engaged with the topic in a way that verges on manic. Even combined with the lack of afternoon coffee, not even the fact that my body is just certain it’s seven pm when it’s really only four could slow me down. Maybe it’s time to think about getting that PhD…

Then again, some of those sentences are pretty hairy, structurally speaking. Do they frown on that when you write a dissertation, or is that considered a bonus?


3 Responses to somewhere in Vancouver

  1. Brian says:

    And you didn’t even call? –Sniff–

    As it happens I’m in Utah anyway. Hope you enjoy Van Rock City half as much as you grooved on the class.

  2. Brian says:

    Oh yeah, and I flew Alaska too — sounds like we had similar experiences. Yikes.

  3. Gardner says:

    It all depends on the director. :)

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