Bursting

"Make no mistake. I take these children seriously. It is not possible to see too much in them, to overindulge your casual gift for the study of character. It is all there, in full force, charged waves of identity and being. There are no amateurs in the world of children."

-- Don DeLillo, White Noise


--

The Nerd ended, as all shows do. It was fun, as all shows are.

I am glad it is over, as I always am.

In attendance were three co-workers, four college friends, and six former students of mine. They aren't the sort of statistics one ought to read much into (nor are reviews), but it's interesting. And something worth remembering, I guess. Students see shows. So do friends.

--

One student dropped by today with her family to present me with a gift. A beautiful little card, a gift card to a hip food place nearby, and a baggie of chocolate-covered espresso beans.

The mother mentioned that she figured I'd be cleaning out my refrigerator about this time, seeing as how I'm a week away from moving and all. And the thought crossed my mind that I really ought to be cleaning a lot of things right now. Instead, here I am, the last one to leave the office again, listening to The Decemberists and wrapping things up.

I've already eaten four beans. My chest is bursting; my eyelids have forgotten how to fall.

--

In preparation for the road, I've been increasing my listening options exponentially. A lot of Death Cab for Cutie albums, a lot of showtunes, a lot of spoken word. Maybe I'll make good use of the radio this time, too.

For nights and stir-crazy hours, I'm planning to take a pair of Netflix DVDs along: parts one and two of The Corner. I'll watch what I can, when I can, maybe in the corners of Paneras and parking lots.

And Lord knows, I'm traveling with plenty of books.

--

I just need to get rid of furniture, and I'm set. I told my sister last night that all I really feel like keeping are books, movies and clothes.

--

So: I'd better get to it.