Wooch. What a se'ennight it's been.
I have indeed survived another year of general peace-love-and-debauchery out on Birdsong Hill, which wrapped as of last Sunday, and was very good. I now have the year to recover, and prepare my repertoire for Swampstock X. Yowza. Three hundred and fifty-odd days to find out if I have what it takes to be part of an acoustic prog duo, if I get off my ass and write the damn songs. Time, that bastard, will tell.
On the other hand, Tuesday marked Today is the First Day of the Rest of My Keeping My Big Mouth Shut From Now On. It seems I'm a piss-poor matchmaker after all. Oh, well - the whole thing spiralled entirely out of its intended shape rather quickly, I'm afraid, from a simple potential hook-up for the weekend to something that involved Emotions and whatnot. Lot of strange intensity. What the fuck was I thinking, anyway?
In happier news, it was very very cool to hook up with Patrick and Bernice after all this time (like, upwards of a decade - Ai ya, do I feel old) and find that I actually did turn into the kind of person that gets to hang around with cool people. Of course, I promptly got home and lost the bit of paper that had all their contact info on it (having placed it very carefully in some safe place that I'm damned if I can recall now) - so, Pat & Bernie, if you're reading this, call me or drop a line. We have much yet to discuss.
I'm working my way through SILVERLOCK these days, simply because it seems like one of those books I ought to have read, and it's pretty good so far. At just under halfway through, it's not quite the world-shattering revelatory give-this-to-all-your-friends experience Niven and Pournelle and so forth speak of in their introductions, but then they had to get by in a world without SANDMAN, which seems to be filling many of the same needs for the current generation.
Haven't done any writing myself for waaaay too long. Hope to remedy that on the weekend.