Lovely, that is, until the tornadoes touched down. And the flash floods. Famine, pestilence, possible plague of locusts. It’s been highly dramatic and it shows no sign of stopping any time in the next millennium. Also, the bat is still at large, my room is 9000 degrees, and we may or may not all die.
I’m attending a bridal shower today for a friend who braved the cyclones on a bicycle just to sit and drink wine with me yesterday. As I prepare for my venture to the out-of-doors, I’m sitting in our dark living room, drinking lukewarm coffee and admiring the storm.
Through our back window, the yard looks like a rain forest and the lake looks like marble. The water’s turned a deep gray-green and looks thick as paste. All the ducks have tucked themselves away somewhere dry, except for one solitary duck who’s sitting on the dock in the downpour like it ain’t no thing. I wonder if she’s enjoying the rain or if she’s just stubborn.
A good question to ask ourselves in general.
If the world doesn’t wash away entirely, I have exciting plans this week. I’ve decided to register for the SCSMI (Society for Cognitive Studies of the Moving Image) 2008 Conference, where I’ll listen to smart people from all over the world discussing such topics as:
It will probably be boring and/or flooded and sometimes academics make me want to hurl myself through the nearest window, but I am ridiculously excited. I’ve spent the past eight years sitting through yawn-inducing conferences, seminars, and lectures on topics that have nothing the dagnab to do with me or what I care about and it is just now occurring to me that I have agency in this matter.
I’ll take notes for you.