Since Claire is headed that way, it follows that I follow. I have ramped up my job/internship seeking. Thanks to Mos Daniel, I have a lot more leads now and I am hoping to find something in the coming weeks. At least I better find something.
In the meantime, Claire and I are searching for housing in the D.C. area. If anyone has any suggestions, please TELL ME NOW.
I get asked this a lot, so I will mention that Claire is getting a Masters in Museum Studies. Her goal is to achieve employment as a collections manager. A big part of her decision on GW was their excellent program, reputation, and the opportunity to intern at the Smithsonian. I sound like an advertisement.
Got a museum? HIRE HER.
Speaking of Mos Daniel, I have started to write for his blog Write No Evil. My modest contribution can be found here, but the whole thing is certainly recommended reading. It's been fun so far, just trying to keep new content on the page. For someone who wants to make his living doing the writing game (e.g. me) it's certainly good practice. Daniel comes to the Garg from the Daily, and we love him dearly. He also looks like Mos Def.
Today is the first deadline for my last issue with the Gargoyle. Strange times indeed. I am pretty pleased that there were so many on-time responses. The Garg has come so far that I hardly recognize it. I have no idea where it will go from here, but I'm glad to have been here.
My cohorts on the staff accuse me, rightly, of getting overly nostalgic about the Garg. Lucky for them, it will stop soon. (CRYING)
These are ridiculous. Seriously, people.
Lastly, I must confess that I am a copy-cat. Or in this case a "copy-cathy!" (Rimshot)
Recently, Cathy (Gargoyle art director, friend) announced that she was purchasing a banjo. She'd talked about it for sometime around the office, and yesterday she went and did it.
So, today I went and did the same.
Now, I will admit to be being partly motivated by jealousy. But the fact of the matter is that I have had a long-abiding want to play the banjo. I have been talking myself out of it for years (I don't have the time, I don't have the money, I don't have the skills, I don't have the commitment), but seeing Cathy fulfill her dreams with nary a backwards glance inspired me to do the same.
It's a Washburn, coming to me cheap from the internet. In fulfillment of ancient prophecy, it is the same kind of banjo won by my father in ages past. The circle is now complete.
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