Most of last week was spent in my desk at work, or cleaning my office. My office is still a horrendous mess, but now it's not my mess but the one my predecessor left me. Um... sixteen months ago, but still. I'm trashing old manuals, tossing boxes of (now) useless crap tucked away under my work tables, eliminating redundant storage of files pertaining to students gone from the school for four years....

It feels good. Darn good. And it's really nice to have my books on my bookshelf now, instead of a bunch of "Internet Surfing Guides" from 1994. Granted, I may be the first Manager of Information Technology that has a Norton Anthology of English Literature closer to hand than my O'Reilly books, but then if I need an O'Reilly Book I can go get it. Sometimes my need for the last four lines of The Chimney Sweeper can't wait.

In other news of the last week or so, I had what could only be called a date on Saturday. We didn't intend for it to be a date, but it clearly became one (by both our admission and both our attitudes) by the end. Her name is Andrea, and she and I have been riding the Synchronicity Express since, oh, 1985.

No, I won't go into details. You can get those when I know them myself -- right now, we're trying to reconcile a couple of hours' distance and trying to figure out just when we might have a second date. It's the kind of problem I can enjoy trying to work out.

So. A good job. Good friends in the area. A potential significant other, who's in the same time zone.

This is what 'happy' feels like. It really is. Amazing how that works, isn't it?

Well, against the coming adventure in drawing, Andrea and I stopped at an art supply store in Portsmouth, and we discovered the arcana of drawing tools. I picked up a Strathmore 400 pad (18"x24"), a kneaded eraser, a pink pearl eraser (why is it called a pink pearl? It's not pearl shaped. It's not smooth like a pearl. In fact, it looks like the tongue of a big old cartoon oyster) and pencils. Lots of pencils. HB. 2B. 4B. 6B. Others I can't even remember.

Remember the good old fashioned Number Two Pencil? You sometimes forget there are others of that ilk out there. You also don't get all that many chances to use the word 'ilk' in a sentence. Try it sometime -- it's fun! Ilk ilk ilky ilk!

I'm really kind of excited about the class. It'll be Tuesday nights, sixish to nineish, and it's about 45 minutes away. So, they should be a fun time. I need to get directions sometime tonight, of course.

So why am I doing this? Because I want to be able to draw. Oh, I'll never be a professional or even a very credible amateur, but so what? I'll never go to the Pan Pacific Grand Nationals, but I still want to learn how to Ballroom Dance. (So, I'd add, does Andrea. Now, remember back to 1984 and Music Camp, I remember a couple of clear things about Andrea. One of them was her dancing skill -- that girl could dance. As in she cleared at least one floor I saw.)

Note to myself, get Strictly Ballroom on DVD.

I want to sketch and have those sketches be nice. Not great, but nice. If I want to convey the essence of a fictional character's description, I want to be able to scribble out a fast thumbnail. I mean, why not -- right?

And besides, it's Continuing Ed. It's not like I'm going to flunk out.

(Famous last words....)