PAA and its aftermath

Wednesday morning I left for LA for PAA. Quite early. Got there and never felt quite right physically. I was constantly tired. I just thought it was the getting up early and the time change and that I was just slow to adjust. I had a fine old time hanging with current and past Sconnies. Why else go to PAA? And I also got a hug from Michel, which is my yearly PAA goal. I even did some SCHMOOZING! With people from the Census Bureau. They were trying to get me (or anyone showing even the slightest interest in them) to apply for jobs starting in the fall (and continue working on my diss). They even had a suite where they were doing interviews on site. Ack! I managed not to go quite that far. I think I am not ready for that yet. But I was feeling pretty good, minus an annoying meeting in which the people I work for basically revealed that they never get emails that I send that have attachments (even though my mail says they have been sent). I am not sure what to do other than send and send and send. The other grad student on the project was at least smart enough to have me try a second email address. We'll see if that works. But I digress...

Anyway, so PAA was great until...I puked. I went to El Pueblo de Los Angeles for a Mexican dinner with T-thang, JJ, E-dog, and Fla and we had a fantabulous time. The waiter was funny and our food was good - seriouly yummy guac. I have some pix that I'll get to posting some day, I swear. But then I felt full in a way that I don't usually feel full when it comes to Mexican food. And I actually STOPPED eating part way through. I almost NEVER leave food on my plate (or guacamole anywhere on the table) at Mexican places, but I did last Friday night. We got back to the hotel. I felt kind of icky. Went to bed. And then...Puke-Fest 2006! Poor JJ and T had to hear me all night long with the moaning/heavy breathing (I thought that might help me deal with the pain) and the puking and the...brace yourself...peeing out the butt. It was horrible. And the next day I continued to feel craptastic, though the angelic JJ provided me with the elixir of the gods (Pepto) and the best working medicine ever (Immodium). And that helped. And the rest of the day, I managed to keep down a few pretzels, 3 pieces of toast, a banana, some tea, and later 2 entire eggs!

Then, wouldn't you know it, I was scheduled to take the red eye Sat night from LA to Philly. So, I get to the airport, wait in line, get my ticket, and then get in the longest line for security I have ever seen. And then it grows and grows and grows and grows and people just sort of start butting and it's crazy and packed with people. And eventually I (and my new friend-in-the-line Terri) realize that the line isn't moving. NO ONE is going through security. Finally, some one on a megaphone tells us that there's been a security breach (no idea what) and that no one is going through security and maybe we'll have to be evacuated and that there are probably too many people in the building and they'll have to start directing us outside. Thankfully, the evacuation part and the moving the line outside never happened, but it was over an hour of us all standing there and no one being allowed to go through security. In the meantime, some guy started to hit on Terri. He was maybe in his 40s. She is 28. And he kept asking her if she worked out/played sports. It was rather hilarious. Eventually, I got involved - mostly telling him how it was making the whole wait much more entertaining. In the end, I got her email address and he didn't! See, dude. You just need to play it a little more low key and you too can get the digits. Anyway, FINALLY they let us through. And there were no crowd stampeding deaths to my knowledge. And the plane to Philly eventually took off and eventually landed without incident. And now I am still recovering. I slept a couple of hours on the plane maybe. And a couple more at home yesterday. And 11 last night.

Ok...now it's Tuesday. And I'll wait to share any more drama with you - though I have apartment-related angst. Whatevs. Thank God (or Craig, really, I guess) for craigslist.