sunday march 23 2003    |    7:25 a.m.

all this week, miami has been hosting the annual winter music conference, south beach being the hub of activity. this means traffic has been disastrous and drug and alcohol vendors have turned a tidy profit in the past few days.

so i just dropped my boyfriend off at the hotel where he works, and then absentmindedly turned into washington avenue to get home. mistake. there was actual traffic, slow-moving and cutting and honking and obnoxious. a small horde of clubpeople were pouring out of the cameo, which i think has been hosting the big-name djs and whatnot. but it's seven in the morning on sunday, people!

i feel old and grizzled even complaining about this. i just don't think i'd be remotely up to "partying" until 7 in the morning at this point in my life. last night we went to bed before midnight and today he's at work and i'm planning to make an omelette and wash some strawberries and finish watching the mystic masseur and then go see my parents. with laundry and a trip to publix thrown in somewhere.

i am going to have to commute to fort lauderdale on tuesdays to be their sole interpreter over there. this coming tuesday is my first, and i have a hearing every single hour, except for lunch. 8 am, 9 am, 10 am, 11 am, 1 pm, 2 pm, 3 pm, 4 pm. yikes. and then i have to drive two hours south in rush hour traffic to get home. grumble groan.

on a happier note, i found out that a distant friend's band, sorry about dresden, will be playing in miami for the first time in about a month. i hadn't talked to the friend in question in a long time, and it was good / will be good to get back in touch. even if i have to sit through a bright eyes performance as punishment.

acting on a pang of nostalgia yesterday, i looked up in the diaryland where i'd been exactly two years ago. it was here: giddy, finishing up the comps, ready to get wasted. second day of spring. sigh. i got super melancholy and called fritz, who wasn't home. so i emailed mister oso and felt better. DAMN IT, i miss you guys. you have no idea.

well, i have a date with v.s. naipaul to keep.