First there was a vague e-mail about a strange Virginia-referencing note found on the campus where I teach. Then an announcement that the school would close at 5:00 pm. Then at 4:15 an adminstrator with an urgently officious tone in her voice found me obliviously internetting in the distant partitioned-off corner of the writing center: "Everybody out, now. We're closing and locking. You won't get back in."
Even though I rationally knew the threat was probably nothing, I walked to my car fast (but not so fast I would stand out as a target--yes, I thought that) with a book clutched over my chest. As if Seeing & Writing was going to take a bullet for me.
I felt jittery the whole way home.
I spent part of the newly freed evening reading a friend's advance copy of Miranda July's book. Of course it is freaky and amazing and wonderful. You have seen the site, right?
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