curious night

Shortly after my last posting, I had an interesting evening. First, I received a call from my brother to tell me that our parents were in a car accident on I-80 on the way from Sacramento to the Cal football game. They weren't hurt, but the car sustained enough damage that Dad and the CHP officer helping him had a hard time figuring out how to get the car started again -- I guess hybrids have some sort of engine cut-off that happens in the event of an accident, but apparently they made it work and the car moved again. And kept on moving towards Berkeley, because lord knows you can't keep my family from a football game!

I rushed home from lab to change and then headed off for dinner with friends. I was the first to arrive (funny, that) and in the meantime got a call from a UC Davis campus newspaper reporter wanting me to comment on Davis' withdrawl from UCSA. Hm, hadn't heard that one! I gleefully forwarded the reporter on to the new UCSA president, and offered my apologies for not being able to offer her my comments, though I would have definitely have loved to do so. Oh, I do so not miss the drama. I really truly don't.

During the course of dinner I received a very great compliment, perhaps one of the best of my life, when someone who I know to be quite opinionated, overly frank and critical, and rather snobby told me I was one of the few people she considers to be "special". And no, not in the Forrest Gump or Quasimodo way, you nasty cynic. Of course, this made me blush (no the sangria didn't help) right down to my décolletage. Which was in rare form last night, if you'd have asked me or anyone else within 20 feet.

I rounded out the night by going to Mónica's housewarming party. I managed to get there despite said sangria and having left the directions in the lab (thank goodness I have a decent memory for directions and a great sense of direction). It was quite an eclectic group, mainly Stanfurd people, but I did meet a Cal grad now working in the lab of someone who once worked here at UCSF (dainty redheaded orthopedic-type) and a new UCSF student in the PSPG program. To my great surprise and admiration, she transformed herself in the course of the evening from a typical first-year grad student to a non-nerdy wonder when she sashayed into the main room in a lavender swirl of veils and beads to perform some bellydancing. And just before I left for home, I was waylaid by a tipsy man with his girlfriend draped upon him, who pronounced, "You're funny!" and then launched into a convoluted and protracted prediction of my future, from which I could only glean that I was going to wear pearls and live in a manor when I'm forty-five. He didn't seem to appreciate my amusement at his efforts, so I excused myself as quickly as possible and headed to wish Mónica good-night.