I bet this will be a long one.

And now, yet another post brought to you by Nicole's Insomnia, in hopes that recapping events of late will help Nicole's Going To Sleep.

I had a bit of a bout with general grad-student funk last week, brought on by who knows what -- not feeling like I have a grip on my thesis project? being baffled by conflicting results? wondering what I'm supposed to do next to understand what in heck is going on here? seriously doubting that there's a way to figure it all out?

Walking past the graduation set-ups on campus each day added to this, coming with it a general reflection on the passage of time. Not taking/teaching classes kind of makes the year seem seamless; an academic year's time only marked by the number of undergrads that crowd into study halls before finals, their subsequent disappearance and the shocking emptyness of the entire campus, and chairs and tents being set up on the lawns. So I've been reflecting on graduation day, a silly and wonderful ritual, happy yet bittersweet, totally irrelevant yet important in that romantic notion of academic tradition. Pomp and circumstance, indeed.

And then, of course thinking, dammit, am I ever going to graduate the way things are going? ARRRRGH.

So on Friday I dragged myself into the lab the long way around campus, hoping to avoid intruding on the ceremonies and the smiling happy people in robes, lest I meet their faces with looks of jealousy, sadness, a sneer, etc. Grump-tastic, huh?

And then H. and C. rolled into town. Mood-funk lifted.

It was H.'s idea to visit, inspired by her love of the Decemberists -- two shows in one week for her! They totally rocked, btw, and finding out Rebecca Gate was opening was an added bonus for me, although she kinda got swallowed up in the size of the venue and among the chatter. It beat Springwater's shitty sound system, at least.

But while I was all game about H. visiting, I remembered that the next day I planned on going to Steeplechase, so I asked her during my last ATL trip if she'd be interested in going. And she was. And C. too.

So, now, for the record, first I take these kids to a college football game, next to something slightly akin to a ginormous frat-party. C. asked if he came to Nashville again if I would take him to church. I think I need to look up scoring tickets for a TBN show. Or the pentecostal services they have at the Ryman, which my roommate has been to (working as an usher.) Her stories are amazing.

Anyway, thanks to some of your helpful comments when I wrote about this last year, I realized my ridiculous naivete in describing this event. But in my own defense, going to the track as I knew it was not a social event in the sense of "society," so how was I supposed to know it was an old money thing? Horse races are fun! And this was the joy of what I knew, plus packing in food and drink and being on grass!
Well, minus legalized wagering. This concept, horse racing as sport without betting, I had to explain to my parents three times in all.

Despite periodic thundershowers, the weather was pretty good -- not blazingly hot like last year -- and the rain was fun and brought us together, literally, thanks to the tent/canopy thing H. borrowed for us (thanks x's infinity, really.) Also, for the first time in my life I participated in setting up a tent-like object. OK, I only tied down a piece of the tarp to the frame, but hey, I felt a little closer to nature.

You should have seen us all standing around the thing wondering why it was so short before we realized it had extendable legs. Just to give you a sense of how outdoorsy we all are.

Might I add at this point that they installed a jumbotron across the track, right in front of our spot, which was cool, although at some points I felt like I was sitting at the drive-in.

Anyway, people watching was great too, as always. The rain made for extra interesting events (like the people across the way who made a beer/ice slip and slide out of a tarp. Crafty!)

The newbies we brought along (four in all) gasped in amazement at the affair, and were amused. "This is nuts!" "I've heard people wear these things, but I've never seen it with my own eyes." "Can we do this next week?"

At one point walking through the infield, H. and I drafted tiles for a hypothetical Steeplechase bingo board, with Hipster Bingo fresh in mind after I used it for a mix CD cover for her recently. Well, it was hypothetical. Until Sunday, after they left, when using everyone's suggestions, I drew it up in between napping, cleaning, and taking walks. Seriously. Amazingly simple thanks to images lifted from the steeplechase, Brooks Brothers, and Ralph Lauren Polo websites. Nothing says to your friends "thanks for visiting!" like a commemorative JPG file, right? Er....

Anyway, so those events, offset by "normal" things -- also a cookout welcoming A and S back to the US from France, post-steeplechase dinner at a friend's condo, coffee house outings, DJs spinning at virago -- was the weekend.

This was effective. I am feeling more settled and tired now. If you read down this far, you must be, too.