Well, looky there on the right. Is that a Knitting Olympics gold medal? Why yes, I believe it is!
(Resuming normal post)
After my trip to visit FSU and checking out the graduate program there, I was (of course) intending to regale you all with tales of my brilliance and of how I had greatly impressed the faculty. While that didn't quite happen, I can promise you that I will be unlikely to be forgotten for quite a while (more on that later).
I really did enjoy my visit. My initial impression of the faculty was that they were very nice, and all got along well. This impression was confirmed for me by the other graduate students. I was really impressed with everything I saw there, especially breadth of the faculty's specialties. Even though it was a rather small department (so I was told- at Mercer our Classics department consisted of one professor, also the sole Latin teacher), it was possible to find a professor whose area of expertise aligned with whatever one might be interested in (Etruscan mirrors? Yep, they've got that covered. More importantly, they have someone who does ancient philosophy).
On Thursday, I met with the professors and graduate students and attended a class. Afterwards, I got to go running with my little brother and take him and his girlfriend out for dinner. The plan for Friday and Saturday was to attend the Langford Conference that was being held that weekend.
Friday morning, I woke up not feeling 100%. I only managed to eat half a piece of toast for breakfast, accompanied with apologies to my host (a family friend) that there was nothing wrong with her toast, and an explanation to her daughter that half a piece of toast was not a good breakfast.
I made it through 3 paper presentations that morning, feeling consistently worse. I barely made it out of the 3rd on and to the restroom before I sick. At least I made it to the toilet. It seemed I'd gotten food poisoning from whatever I had eaten the night before. Worried about me, one of the professors insisted she drive me to my car, despite mine insisting I could walk (once I saw how pale my face was, I understood why she insisted). I headed back to the house I was staying at, crawled into bed (well, futon) and didn't come out again until Saturday morning, when I felt much better. I made it through all of Saturday's papers, and then headed home.
In the interested of not boring, I shall end my narrative here. And also because I'm currently working on a craft of a non-knitted nature (I realize this might be slightly shocking to some of you).
So, farewell for now!