Here In The Mountains

If I had a camera, I could post a picture but I probably wouldn't. The hotel where I'm attending a conference doesn't have a brilliant view, unless you're into golf courses and parking lots--in which case this is the place for you if you're ever in Asheville, NC.

I'm actually going to be fairly restrained for two reasons. First, because I really don't want this to be a blog about work. If I wanted to write about work.... I can't even finish the thought, tell you the truth. It's not that I don't like my job--there are days and there are days, but I'm mostly happy with it; it's just that I write so I don't have to think about my job. My job can be stressful and bring you into contact with all sorts of nastiness: I'd rather write about vampires or aliens or something. Escapism. I make no bones about that. I have no interest whatsoever in writing about the gritty awfulness of modern life or something like that.

The second reason I'm not going to say much is that you certainly don't want to be in the position of saying something that leads to employment nastiness.

So let's just say that this conference isn't at the best hotel in Asheville, and the included lunch was not the best lunch, and the program maybe isn't the perfect program, and an intelligent reader can run it through a universal translator.

Anyway, that's where I am, and sort of what I'm doing or pretending to do. Hope you're having a fun Thursday, wherever you might be and whatever you might be doing today.




Comments

Anonymous said…
that is the biggest shame because i count asheville as one of the most beautiful little cities on the planet earth.

i could have told you of all kinds of cool places to go while you were there, but alas, you probably didn't have the time for that sort of thing anyway.

p.s. i had a dream about you last night. i was trying to set you up with a friend of mine.
Eric said…
I probably had the time, but the hotel we were staying in was just far enough from downtown that it was hard to want to leave--leaving would have meant driving or taking a cab, each with their own problems. Better, unfortunately, to drink overpriced drinks in the hotel's golf-themed bar knowing you could put it on your hotel tab and stagger back to your room when you were tired.

Still, if you want to suggest places for next year, feel free to. In all likelihood, we'll be stuck at the same hotel next year, too.
Anonymous said…
Is the friend hot?
Eric said…
Yet again, Wellsian gives voice to what I was thinking but too shamed to say. Not that it matters: it was only a dream friend--possibly some deranged Jungian archetype, or our mother, or something along those lines.

Long ago, I'll never forget a dream I had in which I was on a train--an old steam train from the 19th century--which was forced to stop. All the passengers were forced to exit. One was Kate Mulgrew, and this is the reason I still remember this dream. Because more than a decade later, I still sometimes think "WTF, Kate Mulgrew?"

Years before this disconcerting experience, there was a dream I had in which--I kid you not--I was trading guitar riffs with Ray Stevens. Which is a truly appalling thing to dream about, I shouldn't even be telling you this.

H.P. Lovecraft apparently dreamed of alien cities, cyclopean monuments, and nightmarish monstrosities. I, on the other hand, well, you get the idea. This is why I'm not a visionary, I suppose....

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