surf's up

This semester has gotten off to a particularly rocky start.

I'm teaching three classes on two different themes this semester, which, in general, I'm very excited about. Two of the classes are themed around women and food, and the third class is about Mad Men. I'd envisioned a pretty enjoyable spring, reading Diana Abu-Jaber and contemplating Peggy and Peter's relationship.

But, due to a series of events outside of my control, I've had to rewrite the syllabus for all two of the classes that I am teaching this semester. Now, for most people, this wouldn't be a problem. But, in our program, we're required to have about ten pages of front matter. This, in combination with my own obsessive-compulsive desire to start every new semester off with a clear sense of my overall trajectory, makes for a fifteen-page syllabus when you add in my detailed calendar. Now, I'm in the process of reworking all my dates to accommodate the demands of "the Others."

When Friday hit, I needed to visit Surfside. This summer, when all was right with the world, we'd go there about once a week. They have all kinds of delicious food and even more delicious margaritas. And, the best part about it is that we can walk with Ella down to Wisconsin Avenue to pick it up. If we call on the way, it's ready when we get there. I ordered the Nevis; Mr. Beeton ordered the Andros. It felt like summer when we ate.

Perhaps all this beginning-of-the-semester stress is compounded by the fact that we began our house hunting yesterday. The most memorable house - the one with the creepy horror movie music coming from upstairs. The quote of the day - from our realtor who said, "I feel like I'm going to get shot," in the same house.

Keep sweeping - especially when you can't see through the dust, Martha

Watched 9 and The Proposal.