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The navel of New Brunswick

My plane touched-down in Fredericton a touch past 21h30, local time. It was my first time flying through the night, and, as we passed over Montreal, I spent some time gazing down at the network of lights spread out below like a spiders' tracers.

I may have a date during my stay here, or I might not; it won't be apparent until J.W. txts me back. When she'd found out from the Book of Faces that I'd be coming though the capital of New Brunswick, she'd written me quite out of the blue and asked if I'd care to get a coffee or drink when in town, telling me to write her when I got in. We'll see how things work out. It'd certainly be nice to see her after a couple of years; though she'd moved back to The Rock after graduation, she's found herself now at the University of New Brunswick, studying law. Quite the change from music. It'd be good to hear her stories; we somehow didn't spend nearly much time chatting when we were living right adjacent to one another in Leeds.

My father picked me up at the airport, but needs to work tomorrow from eight till four; Jeff will have a hair appointment sometime in there. The keynote address for the conference shan't be until seven in the evening, with the reception following; the keynote speaker is former federal Liberal leader Stephen Dion, who'll be speaking to the issue of the Senate. My own presentation won't be until the wee hours of Sunday morning. The schedule is quite packed, I may need to sneak-out in order to spend any time with family or dates.

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