Holy crap. I just opened an email asking me to consider becoming the Headmaster of a Catholic academy in southeastern Wisconsin. This has nothing to do with what I was just writing. "Headmaster" appeals just 'cause it makes me sound that much more like Albus Dumbledore, which would be a horrible reason to take a job.
Holy crap. Huh.
Okay. Then I just got in at one from leaving Meg so that I could meet my friend Liz for an amazing further three-and-a-half hours of conversation. We were originally meeting at Coast downtown, but they close early, at ten, so we bailed on that (after long delays meeting there because there was some giant run/walk going on downtown tonight) and drove up to a piano bar called The Mosaic up on north Downer Avenue. This was right across from the great pancake house where Jen and I had had breakfast with some of her crowd at one point, which was packed with thriving business, but which has shockingly closed. Anyway, I'm tipsy and included that detail even though it didn't flow. So we settled in (no music tonight, alas) and sat at the end of the bar and talked about our current stuff and occasionally-intersecting old stories with great enthusiasm, and I came to appreciate the new friendship here all the more. She's off on the morrow to visit her Aussie soon-to-be-officially-fiancé in London, and it was great that she squeezed in the time for me. She overflowed with such raw sense that it was a great experience to talk all sorts of things through with her. She has a directness or even bluntness, tempered with great humour, that I very much admire.