Success!
The weekend was good:
* We hosted three simultaneous (and un-coupled) guests over last weekend, in town from Peoria, Portland, and Cape Town for the Mac reunion. We had sufficient beds! Also, we had even more fun than expected.
* I had to work last Saturday for a while, and I put in 14 hours yesterday in order to meet a deadline which was created last Thursday for a project that was basically "search through everything we ever did until you find something that meets these 7 criteria, 5 of which we have never tracked." And yet, with ingenuity, persistence, and the help of several coworkers--Success!
* I finally managed to hang out with Alyssa Sommer (Ed's squeeze) and catch inktea's poetry in the wild, as it were, both of which were long overdue. Sommer and I spent a lot of time exchanging suffering, disbelieving glances as the evening wore through local poets until inktea took the stage.
I had figured (correctly) there'd be no coverlocal poets on a Sunday night, right?and we got even less than I expected... until Inky (and the M-something woman who followed her) finished the night. If there had been two hours of acts like them, I would have gladly paid admission. We both would have, actually. And possibly driven to Northfield to see them all.
(Northfield seems like the kind of place that could have a ridiculous density of slam poets... oh, but they're probably all broomball champions instead.)
* We hosted three simultaneous (and un-coupled) guests over last weekend, in town from Peoria, Portland, and Cape Town for the Mac reunion. We had sufficient beds! Also, we had even more fun than expected.
* I had to work last Saturday for a while, and I put in 14 hours yesterday in order to meet a deadline which was created last Thursday for a project that was basically "search through everything we ever did until you find something that meets these 7 criteria, 5 of which we have never tracked." And yet, with ingenuity, persistence, and the help of several coworkers--Success!
* I finally managed to hang out with Alyssa Sommer (Ed's squeeze) and catch inktea's poetry in the wild, as it were, both of which were long overdue. Sommer and I spent a lot of time exchanging suffering, disbelieving glances as the evening wore through local poets until inktea took the stage.
I had figured (correctly) there'd be no coverlocal poets on a Sunday night, right?and we got even less than I expected... until Inky (and the M-something woman who followed her) finished the night. If there had been two hours of acts like them, I would have gladly paid admission. We both would have, actually. And possibly driven to Northfield to see them all.
(Northfield seems like the kind of place that could have a ridiculous density of slam poets... oh, but they're probably all broomball champions instead.)