I've been avoiding updating because a lot has happened.

*As I mentioned awhile back, an old friend from college was staying with me for a week. Thomas came right about as Brian left for a conference, so it worked out well. Thomas is a geology geek and a grad student at ASU. I'm not sure what exactly he does here, but it's happens now and again. There's really not much to say about it. He had to work on a fellowship much of the time he was here, and I had to cator to that demand. Some of this involved having him over in my office at the lab, or coming back and finding he'd come in because he was done for the day. We actually didn't talk much, mostly about our most recent break-up stories, grad school, and science fiction. Apparently he has a new prospect but isn't interested much; something about her being interested in astrology and other bits. His derision of New Age stuff is funny, in part because I accidentally had several books on my work desk about those subjects. So picking him up was a pain, the stuff he needed to do and implicating me was a pain, and in general I'm inclined not to offer to host him again. We weren't close friends in college and the situation was kinda awkward. I did FINALLY get to see Children of Men with him, though, so that was fun.

*I actually brought Thomas this past friday to an art show. It was the 1st year anniversary of my local promoter's art mag. I figured it was a good idea to show up, that and our mutual friend Melissa gave me the nudge. It was a white wall light industry set of rooms, sheik urban, set inside a heavy brick building near the MG&E railroad depot. If you didn't know there was a gallery there you never would find out. The pieces themselves were decent, mostly painters but some mixed media artists as well. I'd gone mostly for the free food. But after Thomas uncomfortably bolted early on to have a drink with his friend in town, I got into the groove of things.

Jessica, the promoter, and I did the art babble thing for a little while. She had plans to do a photography only showing sometime this spring. She wanted to have me and a few other photographers come up with a showcase on the theme of things you'd otherwise overlook. The idea seemed interesting enough, although this'll likely involve most of my downtempo (read: not flashy pretty) urban stuff. Maybe that's a good first show to do. She seemed serious about the idea, although plans like this come and go all the time in art scenes. She and Melissa also mentioned I was being promoted on the art mag that Jessica is editor-and-chief of. It was a cool spotlight, mostly focussing on my night shots; that really is my forte, after all. Apparently it's conventionally difficult to compose and do lighting for night shots, which is why a minority of photographers do night-time fine art. I think it's much easier than changing daylight conditions, personally.

And in amidst listening to a conventional indie rock duo called The Buffali (female vocal, male something), eating pineapple with a chocolate fountain's assistance, Jessica introduced me to Danielle. She was one of the other photographers. Cute, not a bitch, talkative. We quickly got to talking shop with a passion. She'd seen my stuff and was enthusiastic about it and collaborating. We talked about how we got into it, where we were at now, etc. She'd been out of college and work for awhile, but then decided to start doing portraits and weddings for cash. She just got back into undergrad for biology, I think. By contrast, my photography has only ever been a hobby. It actually wasn't until that night that I thought about and even felt motivated to do a show. She was very encouraging in that regard, and talked about how our work meshed really well but it'd be hard to incorporate other folk. We sat side by side discussing these things for half of the show time. For some reason she mentioned an episode where a guy who'd wanted to collaborate with her had expected some sort of sexual relationship to occur, and how that was creepy and bad. Perhaps she wanted to subtly see if I was of a similar mindset. That's the second time in a few weeks I've heard something like that. Personally my interest in fucking anyone is about a 1.5 on a 10 point scale. Anyway, we eventually shook hands emphatically, plotted on when to meet with Jessica and Justin to start planning the show, and I left to let Thomas back into my house. I emailed Danielle a few days ago but no response.

*Speaking of e-mail, I got one recently from Laura in St. Louis. Laura is someone I never introduced to you. We met at the summer PNI conference last year. Yeah, the one that I never completed the details for because there were so many. (See a pattern?). Long story short, Laura has a lot of the same research interests I do. She's also a redhead that's the lead vocalist for a hard rock band in St. Louis, likes photography. She's also hot and thinks likewise. I'd introduced myself the last night of the conference, somewhat before I got onto the dance floor, started busting moves and garnering a circle of impressed people, and somehow ending up with a collaborator of my advisor taking my neck-tie and tying it around my forehead. We also conga'ed, Ph.D's and all. It was hilarious.

Thankfully she found it funny too but had been way too embarassed about cutting loose. So as the night wound down, we went to the wide concrete balcony outside the gala room to admire Miami at night. We became acquainted with one another's life, talked research, then decided it'd be more fun to go near the lounge/bar area along the ground floor and drink. And drink we did, with 12 dollar mai-tais and similar things criss-crossing between laughter and conversation. I hadn't enjoyed the company of a beautiful young woman in ages. The dance event ended at 9 or 10pm but we talked until almost near dawn.

At some point my photography came up. She was very intrigued. I told her I could get my laptop and showed her, that'd it'd just be 5 minutes. She was drunk and all smiles and laughs at the idea, so I went back up, tip-toed past my now sleeping female roommate, and went back down to show her. I didn't have a lot of stuff, but what I clicked on and talked about really intrigued her. Actually it formed the backbone of the post-4th drink conversation. About every time there was a pause or a need for emphasis somewhere--maybe 13 or so times--she'd say that she really wanted to help me get a show in St. Louis at a pretty spacious gallery, and that her band could play the event. She knew a lot of art community people there and thought it was a great idea. I thought it was fabulous, though hearing the same thing for the 13th time did almost make me laugh. Eh I was drunk too. She was mostly concerned that she started swearing like a sailor whenever she'd had a lot, but oddly enough I found it endearing for when and how she used it.

We walked around the pool and near the beach once somewhere in all that. And as exhaustion/thoughts of planes descended, we walked to the foot of her building entrance. We held hands with her head against my shoulder, partly about nothing in particular, partly to make sure I'd follow up on the show idea. I was mostly sober by then and it was still airy and euphoric. What a shame she lived far away, I thought, but maybe with the show something might develop.

Well after I got back to Madison, we did e-mail about the show. She never replied back to one of mine, though. I'd gotten the inclination to e-mail a few times now and then, occasionally looked at some of the photos she'd sent me (mostly looking at her, but still). But a week ago--like I mentioned near the asterisk--I got an e-mail from her asking if I'd be going to the PNI meeting this summer in France. Professionally speaking, I should attend it but it's going to cost at least 2,000 bucks for airfare and hotel. I'd largely decided not to go, but I was holding out hope to get a travel award. Laura replied back with how she'd been really looking forward to seeing me again and to let her know if I might come. She also told me that the gallery space in St. Louis had closed around when she got back last year, which disappointed her.

So besides professional reasons there would be hanging out with Laura again. I don't know what that'd mean, but I'd like it. If I can get the same NSF summer award I did last year and/or get a travel award from the society if my abstract/research summary wows enough people, I think I might go. Thing is, if I do go, I have promised myself I'd stay for a month and backpack. I've never been outside of the US. Frankly on my stipend I won't be going anywhere neat for several years. So I guess it'd be a vacation starting with a conference. We'll see. What I do know is that I have an open invitation to send Laura some newer shots and keep communication open that way. I don't expect anything of the situation, but she's nice and encouraging and I like her.

*Which reminds me of and brings me to Val at the Infenro. I am the king of transitions tonight. The last time I went to the Inferno was two weeks ago. Mike was there as usual of course, and Dorian Grey/Jeff had come back from winter migration. He was very happy to see me and we talked about this and that for a little while. He expressed his appreciation about Mike and I being around, how it make his 10 years of going to the Infero (!) a lot of fun and therapeutic. We smiled, we drank, we might've toasted.

As per my usual, I asked Mike if he wanted something to drink, where Dorian was up and dancing madly in a Pan-like way. Mike always gets Sierra Mist. So I got up, went to the left sub-bar up and in back of the joint, and ordered from the Irish-American bartender what looks like a badass. Imagine my surprise when I hear a female voice next to me, saying how 'that guy over there is probably the most honest one here.' I looked over. It was a fat dude with a bushy beard, his stomach boldly declaring a black t-shirt. "Mr. Wrong", it said. I looked over at the voice in question. She was/is a thirty-something blonde with a mix of tight black leather and cloth. Ex-military but somehow also a geek, avowed Satanist, interested in religion and metaphysics. Naturally she was exceptionally attractive. I have a thing for women with glasses and she had a pair that perfectly complimented her.

At first I was 'er' about the conversation. I figured the comment was just that, a comment. It was followed by her saying that at least you knew a guy like that would just talk with you so that he might try to sleep with you. And right up you just have to tell them, "I might talk with you, but you are not getting a piece of this tonight, y'know? I think if more people came out and said that things'd just be easier all around. I mean you just say it: you're not gettin' any. At least not tonight," thereupon touching my arm and smiling for emphasis. Considering Danielle's other comment, I guess this is the new way of telling a guy: I like you, I'm fine insinuating I like you, but you are not picking me up just for sex having just met me. I couldn't be more 'Ok shrug?' about lack of fucking if I tried. No, seriously, honestly, sex or almost-sex is the root of women suddenly getting weird.

After the guy comment I nodded and made a joke about my exes generally being horrid bitches (which is no lie if you've read this thing long enough). I also agreed that it makes things much more civilized if people are just honest up front, my tone approximating 'yeah, I don't get people, silly fuckers.'

We talked for the next 3 hours (with a short interrum to give Mike his drink). Took about an hour to get to names. She asked me why I went for the Anton LaVey look. I said it just looks good. She smiled, kinda laughed, and asked if it was because I had receeding hair. I copped to it. She also at some point said, "I mean you're a geek I know, right?" I forget how that came up, but it was more of a connection question than anything insulting. She'd just been telling me about the new Battlestar Galactica, for example. So we talked about geeky stuff, the Inferno ("don't ever date anyone here unless you know them outside the club. Trust me.), Christianity, the Church, and minutiae of scripture. I've also read about Church of Satan Satanism and I was curious about some things I'd read, so I asked. She seemed to appreciate that.

For awhile in there we started talking with a friend of hers that'd come up and the bartender. I heard some stories about the club, what she'd done with some members of said club, and more religion talk. The guy, Charles, and I talked for awhile while Val talked to the Bartender or went off to wherever. I think he was seeing if I was legit, because after awhile he moved on and it was just Val and I talking again. At one point I got that looked at feeling and leaned my eyes over. The short Oberlin Erin-looking redhead goth chick was looking at me and talking with a cadre. I'm not in the middle or inner circles, so it's odd to be the point of conversation.

After a long time she decided to head out at 1am to get some McDonald's, saying that it was bad but she just wanted some. Sounded like a good idea, but I wanted to dance still and I hadn't gotten a chance.

Didn't see her last week, but I'm hoping tonight I might. Speaking of which, I need to get dressed for -20 F weather and the Inferno.

More later.

{Post Inferno} Well beyond drinking and dancing, that was a semi-pleasant waste of time. I should have spent more time trying to fish out my knee-high socks. Those English boots and conventional socks don't cut it.

I'd rate this a 6.5 on the 10 point Inferno scale. Tomorrow will be quiet and consist of Iron and Wine or something comparable set to a 3 shot capuccino and the unerring sense that I was doing all of this years ago. Routine does have it's place in life

I need to buy more toothpaste. I've been running on fumes for two weeks. I'll use some of my roommate's. I recently received a letter from my dental office. They want to let me know of the terrible inconvenience my 3 absences from appointments this year have made, and that they'd like to schedule another appointment for my 6 month cleaning. I couldn't give a fuck less at this point. My mind is honed on eating more spicy cheese bread, downing a few sleeping pills to brush aside the alcohol, and to dream of more strange dreams involving people I've never met, seeing manifestations I'd preferably care not to see, and in general self-deluding or prophecying curious happenstances that I'd consciously (and do consciously) casually brush aside like lint while struggling for some caffeine source.

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