Vicious/ Viscuous

Visited the Washington City Paper today, which seems like the optimal work environment, until you talk to the guy on the police beat, which churned up unpleasant memories of the YDN. Then we melted over a bridge and down Connecticut Avenue into the Smithsonian National Zoo, which is quite impressive considering there's an upward incline. But it was so friggin humid. Don't much like zoos, as the animals don't look terribly happy in their petite habitats. The golden lion tamarins, which roam freely, caught me by surprise as they crossed overhead, leaping from branch to branch with babies clinging to their ruddy back. Saw a fox on the bus trip home as well.
Camp has become somewhat unbelievable: we had to send some kids home for drinking, there was a meningitis scare, some locals threatened our kids with a gun (no actual gun showed up, just talk).
Almost done with Zadie Smith's On Beauty. There's nothing particularly remarkable about the book, but it's immensely readable. Boy does she evoke place like no one's business. She takes to the Boston/Cambridge area with as much ease and joy as Jhumpa Lahiri. And Kiki Belsey is a wonderful character, an everywoman who is, at the same time, almost impossibly unique. I'd recommend. It's like a beach read without the guilt. Haagan-Dazs chocolate sorbet if you will.
Workshopped/read the first act of my fellow creative writing teacher's play the other night. At one point, he'd written viscous in front of the worst thing you can call a woman, when he clearly meant vicious. We all nearly passed out laughing. And then, vicious came up later twice, and each time we were on the floor.
Good things happen.

So I've a place to stay in Bowling Green, a place to stay in Boulder, and hopefully other places on my way from CT to Los Angeles. Mucho excited. Now all I need is a job...