Ugh. Hot and oppressive again today. Just about the only good thing about this weather is seeing the complete wardrobe revolution going on in the streets: no more coats and sweaters, those fall and winter clothes pressed back into service through a cold, wet spring, but women everywhere suddenly in cute cute clothes: sundresses, tank tops, skirts, shades. Hats, sometimes. It's a pity men don't have equally stylish and practical warm-weather options--I've seen some banker-types rocking the light-colored suits with darker shirts and ties beneath, but really? SUITS. MY GOD. I can't bear to go out even in short sleeves in weather like this.

So, in fact, I did not go out today. I stayed in with two fans blowing on me and finished up this rougher-than-rough draft of my final diss chapter. I wasted a lot of time on the internet. And I read bits and pieces of a couple of books, one on turning a dissertation into a book (given to me yesterday by the publishing director of my group--and yeah, a little fucking early, I know), and the other a recent scholarly work in my field.

I was a little worried about the latter--it's the first book-length study of one of my authors in 35 years, and it's written by a women with whom I'm sharing a stage at a conference next fall. I've got a lot of emotional energy invested in this particular author, my chapter on whom is probably the strongest part of my dissertation. (I also have grandiose plans of single-handedly rescuing him from mediocre, sentimentalizing scholarship with my next book-length study, but that's just the hubris talking.) Luckily, the book looks to be just what I want it to be: a nice, well-put together study, published by a biggie press, that will hopefully increase interest in Author--but one which ultimately overlooks almost everything I'm interested in. If I were being mean, I'd add that what it does focus on is itself only passingly interesting, and that its author has a hugely annoying, patronizing and belletristic tone--but of course, I'm not being mean. Couldn't be if I tried.

Anyway, must go call George Washington Boyfriend . . . whom I'm seeing tomorrow! In less than 24 hours! And who has airconditioning built right into his apartment! (Damn, now that's a gooood boyfriend.)