This week, with the admin site running again after a month of bogus head-scratching on the part of our IT consultants, I have set to the task of copyediting dozens and dozens of pages of the museum Web site. As you can imagine, this work is not very stimulating. Today I brought my iPod to work. But I am sick of all the songs I have and thus nullifying its "monotony breaking" function.

So, reaching back into my primitive mind, I decided to try something different. I tuned into WBER. After all, it is "the only station that matters." It was 4 am in Rochester and they had the automated DJ on playing old BER standards from The Cure and Bjork (It's oh-so-quiet). It wasn't until the morning show came on at 6 am (noon here) that I began to get the creeps. It is the same dude that did the morning show when I would pull out of the driveway in my little, bright red Dodge Shadow on my way to "the high school." I started to feel as if I had suddenly been transported back in time. Or like I was apparating, trying to squueze all of my life experience back into my puny pre-18 year-old brain.

I realize that no matter how far away I try to get, Rochester, NY is and will always be that creepy and familiar place called my hometown.

And as if the BER timewarp wasn't enough to undermine all of my adult zen, I got picked up by a 21-year old gardening apprentice named Guillaume in the cantine today. Jeez. What is going on here?