Home, or Now the Shit Hits the Fan

I've always hated the phrase 'when the shit hits the fan.' It's so graphic. Have you ever actually thought about what would happen if shit actually did hit the fan? Really, really contemplated it? Gross, man.

Anyways, my week in the Minneapolis/St. Paul area was really fun. I got to see Minnesota family, who I very rarely get to see otherwise. We went to the Walker Museum, where I once again realized how few people like postmodern art as much as I do (Mom: "I don't get it," Me: "You're not supposed to!" Mom: "Then why see it?"). But I loved it, the crazy building, sculpture garden, and particularly the George Brecht Event Scores, which were little pieces of paper that "involve simple actions, ideas, and objects from everyday life recontexualized as performance" (some website). So fun.

We went to the Arboretum, something the adults enjoyed that I did too, because I am an old woman at heart. It was really quite interesting to learn how they've been working on genetically engineering plants that have evolved in warmer climates to survive the (very) harsh Minnesota winters.





We also saw a play about Ella Fitzgerald at the Guthrie Theater, which, despite having great music (Ella Fitzgerald, you know), had a pretty boring plotline, mostly because Ella had a fairly boring life.

On the way home, we got delayed in the Atlanta airport for about three hours, getting home much later than we thought we would. Lesson learned: never, ever fly Airtran. It's cheap for a reason.

But now I'm home, and I have to actually start Getting Shit Done. First order of business: Get a place to live. I have a date with the girl I know from Florence with whom I will be rooming with on Tuesday to go look at apartments, mostly in the Gramercy area. The whole apartment situation has been probably the hardest thing for me to deal with emotionally, I've felt so guilty and upset for the past three months. I think this is why I've been having stress dreams, all of which somehow involve Final Battles along the lines of Return of the King. I wander through these battle preparations not really knowing where I should be, or with which party I should be fighting. I wake up feeling ridiculously stressed, and frustrated too. Because I like Lord of the Rings, and I really, really want to know how the battle ends.