It’s late Sunday night and I just got home. Rumor has it that the girls got into a little trouble while I was away, but they’re happy to see me, and continue to follow me from room to room, I suppose making sure that I don’t get out of their sight again. And from their interest in my bags, I’m getting the message that they’d like to help me unpack.
Unlike my many colleagues, I neglected to take any pictures at CCCC, but I’ve got a few more pages of notes on some of the presentations I went to that I’ll type up and share, and the social side was fine, as well. The best part of the whole trip, though, had nothing to do with the conference: last night, in Berkeley, I went out to dinner with some of my extended family on my mom’s side to this funky, raucous Italian restaurant with terrific food, and I’m looking at this really pretty kinda pixie-looking woman and I know it’s J who I haven’t seen since we were both fiction writers in the MFA program at the University of Pittsburgh five years ago and 2600 miles away — but here, in an Italian restaurant in Berkeley? And so I finally ask, and she’s like, “Mike Edwards? Is that you? Ohmigod!” So yeah: small world. I was super happy to see her again and we traded email addresses and it was about the best way to end this year’s Cs that I can think of.
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