Phase 1: Inside the Beltway

Yesterday my faithful MacBook died. Computers don't die in spectacular ways: they just go gently into that good night. The color wheel turned, and then it went black. In keeping with Dr. Kuhbler-Ross's stages, I pushed the on button so it the color wheel could turn and the screen go black a few more times until I understood what had happened. Then I bargained with it: what about a hard reboot? No. Then I got mad: Now of all times! But then I zipped straight off to acceptance when Ralph said, "Well, looks like it's time for a trip to the Apple store," and he rubbed his hands gleefully. Now I have a nice new MacBook pro that is doing yeoman work already. Ralph also has a nice new Ipod classic. We had a good time at the Apple store.

I got up at 4:30 am for our early trip to the airport, and the blessed hounds have such good internal clocks that they just stayed in bed until 5:00. On the other hand, Rocket, the not-so-very-clever was thrilled humans were up so early and insisted the my swinging the Bird Toy around for her was a billion times more important than any shower I had planned to take. Rocket's priorities are always quite clear though not always coherent.

I have one courier bag for my electronics and paper, and one Timbuck2 suitcase which, I found out at the Delta checkin counter, weighs 28 pounds. This was the most challenging packing ever because the concept of "Business Casual" confuses me, and this was an informal dress code splashed all across our itinerary. "Business" I understand: that means suit. "Casual" means jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, right? But "Business Casual" is a profoundly grey area in women's clothing. I looked it up online, and it was very strange. Essentially, the web says it is not a suit, and not jeans. I am not always happy with negative definitions (not what something is, but what it is not). Anyways, I'm from the Humanities, so our dress code is "Eccentric Flakey". I tried to translate that to "Business Eccentric Flakey" and though my dart might hit the target somewhere near acceptable.

Today is the Great Meeting Time. They are threatening to have a one hour ice-breaker on the schedule. Robin, I will tell you all about how this ice-breaker for "older academics" goes. My Faculty Development Radar senses disaster brewing. If I am asked to say what kind of cookie I am, I honestly don't know what I'll do.