Higher Rents and Providence (Or, Scratching At the Windows to Get Out of Here)
Okay, I know I just posted on Tuesday, and I hate to have two consecutive Chris's posts up on the main page, but there will be riots in the streets if the general public doesn't have access to my every thought, word, and action (when my autobiography Curled Domination: My Hopes, My Heroes, My Hair, My Story was released back in '02, dozens of people were left in critical condition after throngs of eager readers bum-rushed every bookstore from coast to coast, although most of the injuries sustained were actually just paper cuts).
Today is, without a doubt, the absolute nicest day in New London for at least the last 7 months. Coming back from lunch (Mitch and I went to the Dutch and then strolled over to Michael's for ice cream because we are now officially dating), it was very difficult to not kick off my work shoes and frolic with the students out on the green, but alas duty calls so I came back to the office (plus that old football injury from high school makes frolicking a pretty painful proposition). Fortunately, I had a very productive morning, so I'm not facing a mountain of work to do before the weekend like I often am on Friday afternoons. It is, however, a little bit hard to focus when I know that it's such a beautiful day outside. To counteract this phenomenon, I've changed the desktop picture on my computer a shot of a drizzly, gray afternoon at the New Jersey shore (in case you don't know, my distaste for the Garden State is matched only my desire to see it snap off the coastline and sink into the Atlantic never to return).
Tonight the Herzmeister and I are headed out to Providence, RI (state motto: Only 0.9% the Land Mass of California, but Infinitely More Opportunities to Bump Into a Farrelly Brother) to check out a Rustic Overtones show. As a bonus, it'll also give us a chance to eat dinner at Chipotle; what could possibly be better!?! If at one point tonight we get accosted by a half dozen ticklish Brazilian bikini models I'll know I'm either dreaming or am the subject of some prolonged secret experiment to see how much pure joy an individual can experience before his head explodes (it would be worth it).
I was actually just in Providence last night to staff one of the annual happy hours that Conn throws for its graduates of the last decade (abbreviated "GOLD" because we're so classy). Since I'm the liaison for the Classes of 1998-2007, these parties are pretty much just for all of the alumni that I work with. The events occur simultaneously at cities all across the country, but this was the first year that the College has had one in Providence. I actually hadn't been in that town for at least five years, and it was a lot nicer than I had remembered (last time I was there I had to purchase a $1.50 token to relieve myself in what was surely one of the most soiled McDonald's bathrooms in the world). The event was a lot of fun, so hopefully Providence will be in the running again for next year's GOLD parties (decidedly not in the running: New Jack City).
Earlier this afternoon I had a phone call with English Professor and Connecticut College Author in Residence Blanche Boyd (shout-out to her adorable puppy Skittles). Blanche is renting out several apartments here in New London, and Mitch and I are on the prowl for places to move into once our lease is up on June 1. I'm looking forward to checking out the place out on Tuesday because it sounds like a pretty boss pad from her description, plus it would be nice to be paying rent to another Conn employee. I just hope that she doesn't criticize me for reading an average of about 1.3 books per year (what can I say, that Judy Blume has pretty dense prose).
T-60 minutes until the weekend! Okay gang, I'm gonna sign off, but enjoy the weather and keep it funky fresh!