It's been a busy week and a half. I was in Quaint Smallish City for the six days between the end of classes and my first exam, grading and writing finals and trying to catch up on my magazines and professional journals. George Washington Boyfriend and I went over to Dr. Fun's place one night for a poker party with some of the other junior or otherwise cool faculty at Atypical College, where we drank bourbon, toasted Fun's achievement of tenure and his partner's new job with Important Book Review, and talked shit about everyone who wasn't there. We also got together with one of my favorite academic bloggers and said blogger's partner for dinner and a leisurely few cups of tea and conversation afterwards--all in all, a week of just the right mix of work and fun.

And then--and then it was a mad scramble to campus for my exams (the first two of which were scheduled for 8.30 a.m. and 4 p.m., on the same day--whose idea was that?), while trying to finish up a paper proposal for Big Deal conference. Friday I ran off to get a fabulous haircut, donned my long lanky pink trousers, and set off for a housewarming party at Lulu's. When I first arrived the bartender hadn't yet shown up (and yes, they're the kind of people who hire a bartender), so Bert took over that job temporarily, mixing the mojitos and foisting Tequila shots on everyone, but mostly on himself, when he wasn't somehow both insulting and endearing himself to the guests by making what might otherwise be considered offensive racial and ethnic remarks. (Bert can get away with it because he's Bert.)

And then it was 6-something a.m. on Saturday and I had to make myself look presentable for the last day of a conference some distance away about which I had all kinds of social anxiety; it didn't help that I was still half-drunk when I woke up and that I retained a nice little headache right in the center of my forehead until well into the afternoon. However, I put in the necessary face-time, reconnected with some people I genuinely like, and made some small but useful professional contacts. I didn't get introduced to the Vortex of Evil (Sfragett, you know who I mean), but I chatted up a different big-name critic who immediately asked me to review for his journal--starting with a book on Neglected Author that I really want to read but for which I've so far been unwilling to shell out $60--and was told by the editor of Big Journal in My Field how much they'd loved my recent article and how much they hoped I'd send any future work their way.

So, it was all a bit more of a love-fest than I expected, even if I was completely cold-shouldered by someone I considered a friend in grad school. Nothing has happened between us--she just doesn't, apparently, consider me important enough to waste five minutes of conversation on. Ah, academic politics.

And now it's the homestretch: my last exam is on Tuesday, followed by a quick pack-up of my office, and dinner in the city with an old college friend. Grading grading grading for the next two days--and everything should be done by Thursday.

After which, it'll be time to get serious.