3/30 Today has no title

I slept terribly last night and only woke up before noon because Martina knocked on my door to give me a copy of the new issue of Wet Ink, the literary magazine that Phillip co-founded (with any luck, Banana Trees will be included in the Spring edition). Saw some lady talk about psychological identity in relation to the political biography for an hour. I don't have a fucking clue what the point was, but some of the questions afterwards were interesting, and the fact that the post-grad English department sprung for wine and nibbles was a lifesaver. I spent the next two hours eating quiche and pounding glasses of vintage Barossa while making small talk with two PhD students doing their dissertations on the grotesque or some shit, asking me intentionally vague questions like "So what do you write?" and "Who are your favorite contemporary American authors?" (okay, that last one is not so vague, just slightly asinine... they wouldn't ask an Englishman who their favorite contemporary British authors are. Damn the saturated market of my homeland!) Chatted with the roomies and accompanied them to the British for a drink, then got distracted by footie (St. Kilda murdered Melbourne) and then cricket (England was beating up on the Irish-- surprise surprise.) The wine continued to flow in and around the food and I'm sobering up relatively late by reading essays on racism in the New Wave scene of the late '70s by Lester Bangs.

The moral is: not much occurred on my supposed day of research. It will happen, but I got distracted by wine, seminars, and sport. I'm set to buy plane tickets for the mid-semester break once Susan confirms that I can sleep on her floor for those 12 days in June. But if I budget my time wisely I may actually have three pieces ready to present by Monday, plus a smattering of just-for-me writing and a long list of places to contact and/or submit to.

Drink Count: 10? (I know that seems inexact, but this "science" is by nature so. I clearly had one glass of wine before the presentation, at least four glasses there, one when I got back, a beer at the British, and two when I returned. Then I rounded up one because it's quite possible I either forgot, or got topped off at one point and don't remember it.)

Running out of Australia pictures, actually (at least ones that people might care about) so here are some American girls I met feeding some roos, and a baboons filthy ass. Enjoy that: