I have a few moments and a free wireless connection, so I thought I'd post what I've written about my trip so far. More to come!

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Wednesday, November 10, 2004

My departure has not been exactly smooth. I was awakened at four a.m. to the sound of AJ screaming and panicked. He had fallen out of bed and hit his head on the floor. He has only done this once before, shortly after the switch from bed to crib, so he was quite shaken. I rocked him in my arms for a long while, holding an ice pack to his face as he sobbed until he was too tired to continue. I tucked him into bed next to me � my husband had elected to move to the guest room so he didn�t have to listen to me cough � and I dozed off again, waking every now and then to find AJ�s warm little feet pressed against the small of my back or his hand entwined in my hair.

Awaking a few hours later, he was quite himself again, although he announced that he thought he�d �just go with me� to Seattle. I dropped him off at school instead. Upon returning home, I discovered the power cord for my laptop was on the fritz again. After a panicked call to Apple, I sprinted to the Apple store only to find that this time it was not the cord but the computer and that it would take at least a week to fix. This did not bode well for my plans to work on the plan, all of which involved the computer. I got home and in desperation attempted to adjust the cord port with a bent safety pin. Much to my surprise, it worked. Please don�t tell Apple � I have a feeling such interference would void my warranty, should this problem raise its ugly head again in the future. Nevertheless, I packed the safety pin in my briefcase with the power cord. Just in case.

After getting home and throwing the rest of my belongings into my suitcase, my husband and I loaded my bags into the car and went to pick up AJ from school. AJ ran to greet us, pleased that we both came. He grabbed my hand and said earnestly, �I missed you,� then escorted me around the room to show me assorted pieces of his artwork. We then all drove to a nearby hotel to wait for the airport shuttle. AJ was excited about his visit to the hotel, which featured a working fireplace and glass elevators. When the bus came, we hugged and kissed goodbye and I climbed on, choosing a seat on the side that would let me wave goodbye. All of a sudden, AJ darted away from his dad into the street towards the bus. As my husband grabbed him, tears started streaming down his face. I tried to smile and wave cheerfully, but I was feeling a little tearful myself. He looked so small.

The flight was long, but pretty uneventful and was fairly pleasant, other than the usual string of petty annoyances. But as prosaic as travel is, there are moments of pure poetry in the air. As we began our descent into Seattle, the sun was setting in a scarlet band, reflecting rosy colored light off the snow-covered crags of Mt. Ranier. It took my breath away. In a fortuitous feat of unplanned scheduling, I walked straight onto the shuttle bus, which promptly left for Seattle. As we crawled through the dark, the driver attempted to point out a few sights. I slipped into a zone of numb exhaustion.

After ten hours of travel, I finally arrived in my room. I can see half of Seattle from the window, but I�m planning on closing the drapes and making it an early night. I dined on room service � surprisingly delicious � and will run through my paper with a timer before packing it in for the day. Tomorrow the real fun starts.
Thursday, November 11, 2004

I believe that I slept more last night than I have on any occasion since AJ was born. No middle of the night cries! No early morning wake-up calls! Of course, I did miss waking to the sound of AJs feet pounding across the space between us. And strangely, I woke up at exactly the time that happens: 6:30. Of course, in reality, 6:30 was 8:30 at home.

At 6:30 I opened the drapes. The city was still as dark as cities get. I drank coffee, read the paper and, once the sun came up, stared out the window. I have wonderful vistas of the city and of Puget Sound. I donned my civvies � my rumpled brown cords and a sweater � and set off in search of coffee, as an excuse to get out of the hotel. The thing about this city is that a search for coffee is not necessary. I swear that in the one block I circled there were at least 8 places to purchase coffee. Even my hotel room had three generous packages of St*rbucks to brew myself. I think I�m in love.

Once fully caffeinated, I headed to Kinko�s. Last night I had discovered that the first two pages of my handout were from a previous draft and contained several errors. I�m not sure how this happened, but fortunately it was easily remedied. Upon my return, I�ve done nothing but run into old friends � S. who works for a press, with whom I�m having dinner tonight; P., an old friend whom I briefly dated my first year in Chicago who works for another press; B. who got his Ph.D. from my program a number of years ago and then, after a failed job search, got out of academia � he has just landed a visiting professorship at a large Midwestern university and is enjoying being back in the thick of things. Tomorrow night when my university hosts a party for all students, faculty and alumni, will be a real party. I�m finding myself looking forward to it.

But I know that I should be downstairs schmoozing, not up in my room typing. I am merely postponing the inevitable. Time to conquer my shyness and head downstairs. My husband and AJ just called me to wish me luck on my talk. I guess it�s really happening.

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Thursday night.

After my last entry, I stashed my computer in the safe in my closet and went down to the lobby to try, unsuccessfully, as it happened, to find someone familiar with whom to go to lunch. After wandering around the two floors of the hotel lobby for a while � which wasn�t a total loss, as I ran into my undergrad advisor who is also on my diss committee and a friend from grad school who was just checking in � I ventured out on my own. First, I walked down Pike St. toward the water and the famed Pike PlaceMarket, which made me want to move here immediately. I was desperately wishing I had access to a kitchen, for the sights and smells of all the piles of fresh produce and iced seafood were almost to bear � and the fact that such a quantity of raw seafood smelled good was a testament to its freshness. The air was full of the sounds of shopkeepers hawking their wares and the music of assorted buskers, mostly folk music of several nationalities. I bought a brown bag of crisp, tart apples, talked to a man who made beautiful wooden toys about the decay of our capitalist society, and ventured back towards the hotel, stopping at a caf� to pick up a salad and a drink and I dined in style on the windowsill of my room with the whole city to look at. I ran through my paper one more time and then headed down to check out the exhibition hall, but ran into my friend M. � he�s the one whom I visited with in Miami last year � first. A few more friends arrived and joined us, but I had to head up to set up for my session, so I bid a reluctant farewell and trudged up the stairs with some trepidation.

I need not have worried. The whole session was one exhilaration after another. I simply don�t think it was possible for either the session or my paper to have gone much better. First, two of the three other papers were about different topics but dealt with similar themes, so we found we had a lot to say to one another. One of the authors, in particular, had some similar interests and research questions, so we talked for a while and exchanged e-mails after the session, making plans for further discussion.

I was last on my session, which is my favorite place to be. I can usually concentrate on the other papers better when they are before mine than after. Afterwards, frequently, my brain decides it�s finished and shuts down and in this case, that would have been a pity, for the papers had a lot to say to one another. I didn�t feel too nervous about talking, although I got dry mouth upon taking the podium and had to surreptitiously lick my lips between paragraphs. Lots of my friends showed up, including some I didn�t know were here, which was wonderful. Also wonderful was the fact that several of the senior scholars in my subfield � all of whom are being cited in my dissertation and none of whom I have met before � came too and also came up to compliment me and talk to me after the end of the session. There was a moment where three of the scholars whose work I most respect were standing in line waiting to talk to me. I was momentarily star struck until we started talking and it became clear that they all wanted to know more about my work and to ask me for advice on things. One even asked if she could refer one of her graduate students to me for assistance with her thesis project, which touches on a portion of my own work. Suddenly, I was not a student but a scholar � my musicological bat mitzvah. My friends waited patiently for me to finish talking and to call home to say goodnight to AJ before we went off for a dinner to celebrate L�s birthday, the success of my paper and mostly the fact that we were all together in the same place for the first time in several years. A friend of mine who works for a university press used her expense account to take us out for a fancy dinner at Six-Seven, an upscale seafood restaurant with panoramic views of the sound. We had a very jovial evening, beginning with mojitos (a beverage that is fast becoming a theme for conference attendance) and ending with some seriously sinful desserts. Life is good. I am bushed. Time for bed. Tomorrow I have to start looking for a job.

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