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Sunday Snippet, et. al.
May. 23rd, 2021 11:32 amBai Yu contains multitudes.
Fanart: Not your robe, ZYL. Look of love. Shaving help. Floating. Smile. Behind partially-closed doors. Lantern light.
Here's a clip of the band I went to see last night. My friend Philip is the guitarist on the right in the driving cap. He's leaving to help his daughter in North Carolina with the grandbaby arriving in August (I was at their daughter's bat mitzvah good lord).
It was good to go out. I adjusted faster than I thought I would to the lack of masks. It helped that most of the people there were old music scenesters that I recognized, or the progressive type of old hippie that Lawrence collects. I ran into one of my old musicians from Renfest days, and thanks to my friend Cheryl (Philip's wife), got an introduction to her former co-worker, the chair of American Studies (whom I knew through emails but had never met in person). Apparently, his department is going to be looking for a new admin soon and he was very interested to know that I was looking for a job. He made me promise to email him, which I've already done. I was up front with him about how I think I'm on a no-fly list from the College of Liberal Arts and he said "Oh if we want you, we'll fight that." Cheryl (who used to teach in AMS as well as English) chimed in with "American Studies is full of revolutionary Marxists." 😆 Neither of them raised a disbelieving eyebrow at myparanoia suspicions, which was validating.
Because I did get a very small bit of writing done this week, I have a snippet! I flipped a coin to see if y'all would get 🔥 or 🔪 and you get 🔪, sorry! Zhao Yunlan is not adjusting well.
They passed a food cart just as he rolled down his window and the smell of street food hit him him the face. He’d found a place that offered an acceptable substitute for the months they were banished, but it had never had been quite the same as home. The scent made his mouth water while wrenching his heart with loss for the peaceful life they’d left behind. By the time he recovered from the emotional whiplash, it was too late to ask the driver to stop.
He stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He needed a car. He needed a job. He needed to figure out what he was doing with his life.
Fretting all the way back to the hotel further soured his mood and the excited chatter of a large group checking in didn’t help. Had city living always been this noisy? He’d gotten spoiled. He didn’t quite repress a sigh when two weary people in business suits entered the elevator just as the doors were closing. Zhao Yunlan suffered through their conversation of woe until they got out two floors below his. He felt numb just from listening. Was that the sort of life he’d be living soon?
Fanart: Not your robe, ZYL. Look of love. Shaving help. Floating. Smile. Behind partially-closed doors. Lantern light.
Here's a clip of the band I went to see last night. My friend Philip is the guitarist on the right in the driving cap. He's leaving to help his daughter in North Carolina with the grandbaby arriving in August (I was at their daughter's bat mitzvah good lord).
It was good to go out. I adjusted faster than I thought I would to the lack of masks. It helped that most of the people there were old music scenesters that I recognized, or the progressive type of old hippie that Lawrence collects. I ran into one of my old musicians from Renfest days, and thanks to my friend Cheryl (Philip's wife), got an introduction to her former co-worker, the chair of American Studies (whom I knew through emails but had never met in person). Apparently, his department is going to be looking for a new admin soon and he was very interested to know that I was looking for a job. He made me promise to email him, which I've already done. I was up front with him about how I think I'm on a no-fly list from the College of Liberal Arts and he said "Oh if we want you, we'll fight that." Cheryl (who used to teach in AMS as well as English) chimed in with "American Studies is full of revolutionary Marxists." 😆 Neither of them raised a disbelieving eyebrow at my
Because I did get a very small bit of writing done this week, I have a snippet! I flipped a coin to see if y'all would get 🔥 or 🔪 and you get 🔪, sorry! Zhao Yunlan is not adjusting well.
They passed a food cart just as he rolled down his window and the smell of street food hit him him the face. He’d found a place that offered an acceptable substitute for the months they were banished, but it had never had been quite the same as home. The scent made his mouth water while wrenching his heart with loss for the peaceful life they’d left behind. By the time he recovered from the emotional whiplash, it was too late to ask the driver to stop.
He stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He needed a car. He needed a job. He needed to figure out what he was doing with his life.
Fretting all the way back to the hotel further soured his mood and the excited chatter of a large group checking in didn’t help. Had city living always been this noisy? He’d gotten spoiled. He didn’t quite repress a sigh when two weary people in business suits entered the elevator just as the doors were closing. Zhao Yunlan suffered through their conversation of woe until they got out two floors below his. He felt numb just from listening. Was that the sort of life he’d be living soon?