There was a nice little placard in the middle of west washington street pointing to the Holiday Inn. It said, "Psychic Convention". Would they really need directions?
I'm reading the Time Traveler's Wife. So far so good, except that one of the character's fathers is a violinist in the Chicago Symphony, as the narrator says, because he just never really *made it*. I laughed out loud at that one.
My friend was sympathizing with me the other day for having to work with a woman known to be a bit difficult to play with. The difficult chick also happens to have a female spouse. My friend recalled working with her this spring and concurred that she can be "a real dyke." I've never heard anyone use that word in conversation, and since it came from my reserved, liberal friend, master of the double meaning, I so got the inappropriate giggles in the middle of rehearsal.