I’m at the Blue State, the liberally named cafe in the heart of Yale Country. Every kid in here is behind a computer.  I wonder if they’re doing school work, or on-line shopping, or having  e-sex with an assistant professor, which I suspect is the case with the girl on my right who is wearing the equivalent of pajamas (comfy!), Uggs (why?),  and knows how to use a tube of cherry lip gloss.  I am working on a proposal that hopes  someday to grow up and become a book. The yellow stick in my hand is a pencil.

Just a side note, I am usually a superb parallel parker, but for some reason today I got all tense parking in front of Blue State where three guys were standing. And I fucked it all up. One guy even said, “Do you want me to park that for you?” Was that necessary? Then I stayed in the car and did email on my Blackberry until they left. I know, one minute a power agent, the next a major pussy.

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