<> after the casual extra-credit, stop-go analysis grading in the lobby (okay, an easy one to assess), a rather swank French professor approaches, and yes, he is in fact the guy i'm meeting for lunch. we talk about all of it--long and short--corruption, anxiety, work, overwork, fatigue, children, parents, homecare workers, abroad, Europe, China, greed, poverty, etc.--and, well, the Hong Kong duck and spicy eggplant were both rather tasty.
<> the always adorable and charming nieces in the p.m., and i hope my sister can survive!
<> plans and schemes, lots of them, reading, writing, teaching, and always, how to push Duffleman upon the unassuming masses--and you!
<> foreign translation rights in murky waters, possible domestic representation, a savior, someone to take over the whole operation and hopefully save Cyrus's ass. . . but from what? well, at least from his author. right?
<> okay, wrong again. we'll live with that. maybe. or maybe right.
<> for the most part, when the sun comes out, Philly looks beautiful. great town. spectacular. affordable hoagies, cheesesteaks, and pan-Asian cuisine. further proof New Yorkers just never know what the heck they're talking about. Diane Keaton, or at least her character in Manhattan, would enjoy knowing that we have the Van Gogh (pronounced "Goch") exhibit here. for now.
<> mother appears to be in spectacular shape, and i hope i'm not jinxing anything.
<> fight for your long week in always sunny Philadelphia!