cont'd

sunday

8. the boss wakes up at 4:30 a.m. to go for a run.

9.1. the nearest church is four blocks away. everyone at mass is
(i) italian-american
(ii) above fifty years of age and
(iii) dressed immaculately

meanwhile, there's me, cowering in a corner in yellow timberland shirt and levis jeans. for the second time in as many days, buddhism's appeal ratchets up a notch.

9.2. the sermon, as it usually is in the weeks running up to advent, is highly eschatological. this does not help matters one bit.

10. back at the conference, i strike up a conversation with someone from tononi's lab. we have a fascinating discussion about sleep spindles. i actually learn something. somewhere in hell, a snowball thinks: 'wow, this must be my lucky day'

11.1. we have dinner with ex-lab-josh, denise park, three of her RAs, and two other random people. e-l-j started on his phd in uiuc a couple of months ago, and has already acquired (a) an american accent, (b) the suggestion of a goatee and (c) intellectual airs.

11.2. denise spends 20 minutes talking about her bichon frises (bichons frise?). the conversation turns towards various gastronomic catastrophes that people have experienced in china and other places that serve cat.

11.3. we discuss christopher guest and john berendt. no one has actually been to savannah.

11.4. i have the duck pate, swordfish, and orange cake. it's adequate, and once again, i'm awfully glad that i'm not paying.

12.1. somewhere in all this mess, i manage to squeeze in the walking tour of dc. i've done this before, but with company, and i do like rambling about on my own. the weather is impossibly beautiful for november - after a point i don't even need a jacket. i walk the triangle that has vertices at the capitol, the washington monument and the white house (ridiculous security there, even though dubya was out of town).

(tbc)