and then our exile

Ho hum. It is Sunday already. i do not want to believe that.

The Model UN was decent enough, i suppose. i got me a reputation, and made me some rhetoric, but was emotionally distanced from the whole thing. The first day was absolutely bland (commercialization of microcredit programs), and the second had some bright moments (cows aren't terrorism) and i was more involved, but at the banquet i was seated in a bad way; later was able to Complete A Picture With A Sparkly Tiara, and hung around with JG, A, and KL till 9.45 or so. Some of the sound was horrible, but some of it was infectious, though i restrained myself admirably (what would they do if we of the khattak did our thing? O_o Ha that is funny). Not bad, but not great. Which is essentially the whole weekend. Basically, i feel very old--as though this isn't really my circuit any more. But lunch with a self-hating post-modernist feminist and an encaped SG were good.
i never did Khrushchev. i was *so* going to.

The one absolutely gold moment of yesterday was Oma at at 10pm: "You know, Muzaffar, I'm really proud of you, that you can witness like that." Long KP&family_discussion on the meaning of life.

Organize.