Snatches of life from Boston, conference groupie at a meeting of liver doctors...
1. If you fly tango, you have to pay $50 to check your bag. Even if it would fit as carry on. Because of non ziplocked liquids. And all of this after navigating bitchy Air Canada Line Lady who wouldn't direct me to the shorter line for Those Who Bothered to Print Boarding Passes at home.
2. Everyone on planes now fused to their blackberries and treos until the last possible moment. Wonder if it would be possible to muster muscle if cockpit-storming required.
3. High concentration of French liver doctors. Why french? Foie gras? The french are stylish.
4. F's friend R's gf M also v. stylish. Flinty and girly and smart. Couple dating. F and I have the same level of ambition about dining out -- good not grand food, quickly brought, except on Fancy Occasions. Last night was a bit of a misfire -- reservation not until 9:30, and even then not honoured by 10:20 -- yucky contretemps with smarmy tanned-like-cheap-leather-ottoman manager, eventual eating too late in lower key place. But good. Suddenly the people I know do research and have fellowships and know what the inside of human bodies looks like.
5. Third time in boston, first time it feels perfectly right. The first time, tense weekend leading up to running 26 miles through the streets in an undefined quest to own myself. The second time, Cambridge with Suzie to learn more about dialogue across incommensurate positions with the Public Conversations Project, tense with loss of my marriage. This time, the third time, just right. Some of my own work, meetings and conversations with my friends from online and life and school, and waking up beside a man who makes me happy. Just right. Despite the absolutely hosing down rain.
Just right.
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