In medias res…

Well, I’m really in the middle of things now.

My internship finished well.  All that glossophobia stuff was bunk; apparently people were interested and entertained, and I had record attendance.  I’m told that I’m a natural!  I was also told that, next time, I should avoid referring to my audience as “you guys”, especially when my audience is in part comprised of trustees and the museum President.
Dashing lecturer, drunk with power:
Dashing lecturer, drunk with celebration!
I packed up all my stuff in New Bedford and journeyed back to San Diego.  It has been a pretty eventful break.  Misha visited from Vassar for one leg of his west coast adventure.  Violetta was down here to do some music in Los Angeles, so we went to the Wild Animal Park and took some photos next to these boganvalias.
And then she was touched by God.  I witnessed.
Back when the Chargers were 4-8, I told my dad that the best Christmas present he could get my brother and me would be tickets to the improbable “playoff” game versus the Denver Broncos.
We kicked the crap out of the Denver donkeys.  We beat them so badly, their head coach was fired the next day.  You can see victory in the sky.
I also found out that Balboa Park had an honorary plaque put up for me.
I spent New Year’s with these kids.

James Clark got really drunk, challenged me to a fist fight, stole several packs of cigarettes, and then fell off a cliff.  This cliff:
I have no idea what James Phelps did on New Year’s, but take a guess as to how I know he shouldn’t have driven home:
Generally, I’ve been doing a lot of application stuff, and a lot of moving out of our house, which is a huge pain.  So much to do and so little break time remaining.
Next week: Saint-Petersburg.  (Holy cow).

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