I am home, and don't have a single future flight booked. Woohoo! I got back yesterday from a weekend in Montreal, at the Association of American University Publishers meeting. University press people are a strange bunch, my friends.
The conference was capped off by a ridiculously decadent meal here, where we ate more foie gras than is healthy or sane. My coworker and I brought along Lianna and her coworker, who then proceeded to shock the crap out of us. Here is Lianna before we realized what we were in for:Sweet, right? Well, somewhere in between the oysters, the poutine, and the pig's feet topped with foie gras, we got blasted. There were Wellesley lesbian jokes, there were Asian jokes, there were scatological comments that were not even jokes. Highlight: when he decided to tell a neighboring table that he had slept with his mother, just to see how they'd react.
It was a Category 5 Shitshow.
And yet, I wound up having an ok time. The food was fabulous, and we ended up the night at our hotel bar with about 20 other university press people, all of whom seemed delightful.
And then I got on a plane again. But no more! For the next few months I am not going to work weekends, I am not going to hang out with publishers, and I am not going to try to empathize with middle-aged men. So there.