Sunday, June 13, 2004
Where Am I?
This place is so weird. I am at the National Conference Center in Lansdowne Virginia. Picture a conference center run by the Davidians, you know...the cult in Waco Texas. This place is set apart all by itself about an hour to DC and there is NOTHING to do.
It is three of the most confusing buildings ever made. There are color zones and number zones and mulitple floors. You could film a horror movie here. There are corridors that you could run down FOREVER. And, everytime you think you are about to exit to a place you know. The exit dissapears. And if you find an exit, it doesn't put you out toward where you need to be put out. You end up in some random ass section of the conference compound wishing you could find the West building which is the only building that attaches to the road that leads out of this intellectual prison.
The airport shuttle doesn't come everyday. There are outlet malls here and you all know how much I LOVE shopping. THAT is sarcasm. I hate shopping. The last time I went to an outlet I bought three books and that is it.
There is a gym and a pool but those have limited hours (and the men in this area stare but that is an entirely diffent post). There is also a bar. And the firm has given us an open tab. But I can't really cut loose with these people so there is only so much alcohol I can have. Can't hook up with anyone cause the majority are co-workers and co-workers would know if I hooked up with anyone else and I am just not that type of girl. Not the type that hooks up with strangers.
I would say I am in prison, but I know I am not. I have placed myself here. In this compound and I get to leave in six days. Count down with me.
This place is so weird. I am at the National Conference Center in Lansdowne Virginia. Picture a conference center run by the Davidians, you know...the cult in Waco Texas. This place is set apart all by itself about an hour to DC and there is NOTHING to do.
It is three of the most confusing buildings ever made. There are color zones and number zones and mulitple floors. You could film a horror movie here. There are corridors that you could run down FOREVER. And, everytime you think you are about to exit to a place you know. The exit dissapears. And if you find an exit, it doesn't put you out toward where you need to be put out. You end up in some random ass section of the conference compound wishing you could find the West building which is the only building that attaches to the road that leads out of this intellectual prison.
The airport shuttle doesn't come everyday. There are outlet malls here and you all know how much I LOVE shopping. THAT is sarcasm. I hate shopping. The last time I went to an outlet I bought three books and that is it.
There is a gym and a pool but those have limited hours (and the men in this area stare but that is an entirely diffent post). There is also a bar. And the firm has given us an open tab. But I can't really cut loose with these people so there is only so much alcohol I can have. Can't hook up with anyone cause the majority are co-workers and co-workers would know if I hooked up with anyone else and I am just not that type of girl. Not the type that hooks up with strangers.
I would say I am in prison, but I know I am not. I have placed myself here. In this compound and I get to leave in six days. Count down with me.
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