A Few Disjointed Thoughts

I took my first work-related trip two weeks ago, to Jefferson City and Columbia to visit a few alumni and raise some dollas (holla, holla!) for the University. It was a good trip, more exploratory than solicitory, and I really enjoyed it.

Problem is, Kirsten didn't. She actively disliked it, in fact (which is different from passive disliking, in exactly the way you'd imagine).

I'm gone for this trip from Monday through Wednesday, getting back just before the work day ends.

Then, the following Sunday, I was gone again. I spent all of last week in Indianapolis for a training conference titled "Principles and Techniques of Fundraising." It was a good course, and the philosophy, though it wasn't expressly pointed out, was that the fundraiser operates in a middle space between the donor and the organization he's* fundraising for, and so has to make sure that both masters are served.

But Kirsten seemed better, somehow, about that trip than the trip to Jefferson City and Columbia, despite the fact that I was gone for two days longer. I don't really know why she would have been, except that perhaps it's a matter of being able to expect it this time around.

At any rate, I'm back in town now, and spent tonight, St. Patrick's Day, at a wine tasting in Lafayette Square.

Firstly, let me point out that wine is not the right drink for March 17th. March 16? Sure. March 18? Most likely. March 15 or 19? Why not?

But not March 17.

Anyway, this wine is some crazy nonsense from Washington state, and really, it wasn't any good. In point of fact, it was ridiculously expensive, too: like, 54 dollars per bottle for the last stuff we sampled. I won't mention the vintner for fear of being found on The Google and being sued, but really, it was crap. It definitely wasn't worth 54 bucks a bottle, and I doubt I'd pay 14 dollars per bottle. But there it is. And this tasting was at a trendy bar whose name isn't actually on the front of the place, so you just have to sort of know that it's there. Kirsten and I had walked past this place easily a dozen times, and never seen a name on it - thus, we didn't belong.

And now that I know what crappy wine they have for tastings, I'm not sure I want to go back. So now I'm going to have a cup of non-alcoholic, good old-fashioned coffee, that I definitely won't pay fifty-some dollars for.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!



*only men can be fundraisers. Look it up.