Long but good day
Jay and Holly came to lunch at work today; we met up with an old friend of theirs who works there too. Good conversation, mostly about medicine and science, and I ran into a former coworker who I hadn't seen in at least ten years who's now a current coworker.
I showed Jay and Holly around the campus, and then they headed home. I got some work done that I should've gotten done a couple weeks ago. Just as I was finishing that, I received a very nice email from a friend. In the evening, Naomi and I headed over to the East Bay for dinner with Patrick W. (and to chat for a bit with his family, including the kid who I think I hadn't met yet even though he's now a little over 2 years old--time flies). Good dinner, great conversation--haven't seen Patrick in too long, and he has what's more or less my dream job. (Not quite, but I'm too sleepy to elaborate.) He told us all about it, and there was much discussion of roleplaying and writing and such, plus funny snark from P and N.
Dropped N off at BART, listened to iPod on the drive home; "When I Go" came up on the rotation, still one of my favorite songs.
And when I got home, waiting for me was the CD I'd ordered last weekend of The Best of Keepers--favorite songs from Minnesota Public Radio's The Morning Show. Most of the album is stuff that I'm indifferent about, haven't heard, or already own in other versions, but I ordered it because it appears to be the only album currently in print that contains Carla Sciaky's song "Under the Quarter Moon," which I've been wanting (and intermittently looking for) ever since I heard it on a mix tape about fifteen years ago. Thanks to an old forum thread at Mudcat for pointing me to the album. (And for supplying lyrics; I had no idea it was about Lake Superior, and I thought the line was "sing me your cheerful wild story" instead of "sing me a Chippewa story.") It's still a lovely song; I'll probably try and pick up some of her more recent stuff at some point.
Anyway, so it was a good day. But long. Me for bed, I think.