Last day at Schmancy yesterday, and I'm very glad to be done--but on balance it was a worthwhile fellowship (beyond, that is, the $$). A nice side perk is that I've been asked to write a short article on my research on Neglected Author, and the importance of the item Schmancy holds, for the Schmancy Library Journal. It's not referreed, of course, and it won't be very long, but since I can't publish anything major on Neglected Author until my dissertation becomes a book (having I think already cannibalized the diss about as far as I can without destroying its publishing viability), it's a good opportunity and another nice line on the C.V. Have I mentioned that I'm a whore for my C.V.? Yeah. I AM going on the job market again, after all.

After I got back to the city I met up for dinner with one of my college suitemates, who was in town for work. We'd lost touch a couple of years after college, but we wound up reconnecting after I came across an article in Glamour magazine that featured her. (Though she is in fact damn glamorous, the article was actually about her work on behalf of immigrant sweatshop workers; you see why I have a superstar complex!) We went out to my favorite local restaurant, which has just added sidewalk seating during the summer, and ate outside. This being still very much a "transitional" neighborhood, our view consisted of what seemed like the entire youth of HBN riding by, often two or three to a bike, popping wheelies and doing various other stunts I'm not hip enough to know the names of. Couples walked by, fighting, making out; sirens blared; and an SUV came and parked next to the restaurant, pumping out the P-Funk for a solid ten minutes--awesome, the whole thing.