Catching up on things:
My apologies for suddenly going incommunicado with most of you, and specifically with people from the West Coast, on the 25th. Admittedly, I'd intended to go incommunicado anyway, just not quite that much.
It all started, quite naturally, on the 24th, when I woke up in a regrettably bad mood to the sound of a very very loud leafblower at a far too early hour of the morning, followed by a cat attempting to demonstrate tapdancing techniques on my stomach. This sort of thing is not good for sleeping in, so I woke up, found, that as always, the 24th had brought its usual assortment of bad news, and grumpily headed off to go ice skating in the afternoon. I'd originally picked ice skating simply because the idea of ice skating in South Florida continually strikes me as utterly absurd, and I need to do utterly absurd things every once in awhile. More than once in awhile. Some of you will get that.
But I'd forgotten how much I enjoy ice skating, one of the faster ways that people can move without the aid of machinery. It isn't, alas, quite up to my fantasies of soaring through the air without an airplane or parachute (if I ever become a mutant superhero, I so want to be able to fly), but it's a close second, giving a rare sense of physical freedom that I've found in only one other sport, snow skiing. (Another activity that we don't indulge in too frequently in South Florida). True, I did have to contend with the agonies of rental skates in pretty poor condition, which prevented me from doing quite as much as I would have liked to do, for fear of permanently losing an ankle, and true, I spent time dodging very excited children who were happily sliding around and around, not infrequently into each other. Quite a lot of time, actually - two hours of this.
So it's not entirely surprising that I initially thought the small pains in my stomach were merely cries for food, and certainly not something that dinner should be delayed for. Shortly before dinner, I did think to myself:
"Should I warn coldecho that I'm starting to feel sick?"
"No, because coldecho is one of those annoying people that will actually be concerned about you and suggest that you stay home."
"Damn him!"
So I gulped down some Pepto-Bismol and headed out to Korean barbeque, joined by coldecho, loucheroo and J, evilstoryteller, unsigned, mlxplx, urbanwebkat and another J, athenakt and a C (you thought that would be another J, didn't you?), kubera501 and A, who will be offended if I rename her J, and a Mickey Mouse wearing a sparkler carved from a orange. Dinner was again utterly delicious and I plan to return to this place again, especially if I can continue to go to this place and be surrounded by good conversation while eating the food.
'Twas a very good dinner. And I loved the Mickey Mouse and sparkler.
Afterwards, coldecho and I meandered back to listen to some cheering Chthulu music, stopping along the way when we were caught by the terror of a house that had put up two - two - lit miniature Ferris wheels AND a bubble thing AND a merry-go-round and assorted other atrocities, which would have terrified tealfroglette had she been there. As it was, we needed the comfort of Chthulu. Eventually, however, coldecho left…
…and literally one minute later, at about 4 minutes after midnight, I was spending quality time in the bathroom and cruelly ignoring his knocks on the door.
This more or less set the pattern for the rest of the night. I will spare you, only to note that it was a moderately unpleasant night At about 5:30, though, it seemed that everything had passed, and I fell back to sleep, waking up at 9 and thinking, "Yay, Christmas!" I called Aunt L., and….
and about midway through that conversation realized that I was not going to be up to speaking to any one else for awhile., and went right back to the bathroom, and then to bed, cuddling up with George RR Martin's Dreamsongs (volume 1). (Mildly off topic: highly recommended collection of Martin's previous short stories, only two of which I'd encountered before, "A Song for Lya" and of course "Sandkings.") About midway through one short story I realized that this was not the best time to be reading horror fiction, however short the stories, and then fell asleep again. At around 2 or so, I woke up again, and noted that a few people had called me, and tried to call people back. Alas, my first return call went poorly, since I was under the impression that unsigned was coldecho, and unsigned was under the impression that I was coherent, mutual impressions that were rather difficult to drop. Eventually unsigned realized that now was really not the best time, and left me to put in some serious doing nothing time. This was good, and after a few more hours, I started feeling decidedly better, which allowed me to hang out with him and a few other friends later that evening.
I'm still a bit rundown from all of this, but feeling decidedly better. Much thanks to everyone who helped make the 24th a much, much better day for me than it usually is, and apologies again for everyone that I didn't manage to call back on the 25th.
And happy Boxing and St. Stephen's Day to all!
It all started, quite naturally, on the 24th, when I woke up in a regrettably bad mood to the sound of a very very loud leafblower at a far too early hour of the morning, followed by a cat attempting to demonstrate tapdancing techniques on my stomach. This sort of thing is not good for sleeping in, so I woke up, found, that as always, the 24th had brought its usual assortment of bad news, and grumpily headed off to go ice skating in the afternoon. I'd originally picked ice skating simply because the idea of ice skating in South Florida continually strikes me as utterly absurd, and I need to do utterly absurd things every once in awhile. More than once in awhile. Some of you will get that.
But I'd forgotten how much I enjoy ice skating, one of the faster ways that people can move without the aid of machinery. It isn't, alas, quite up to my fantasies of soaring through the air without an airplane or parachute (if I ever become a mutant superhero, I so want to be able to fly), but it's a close second, giving a rare sense of physical freedom that I've found in only one other sport, snow skiing. (Another activity that we don't indulge in too frequently in South Florida). True, I did have to contend with the agonies of rental skates in pretty poor condition, which prevented me from doing quite as much as I would have liked to do, for fear of permanently losing an ankle, and true, I spent time dodging very excited children who were happily sliding around and around, not infrequently into each other. Quite a lot of time, actually - two hours of this.
So it's not entirely surprising that I initially thought the small pains in my stomach were merely cries for food, and certainly not something that dinner should be delayed for. Shortly before dinner, I did think to myself:
"Should I warn coldecho that I'm starting to feel sick?"
"No, because coldecho is one of those annoying people that will actually be concerned about you and suggest that you stay home."
"Damn him!"
So I gulped down some Pepto-Bismol and headed out to Korean barbeque, joined by coldecho, loucheroo and J, evilstoryteller, unsigned, mlxplx, urbanwebkat and another J, athenakt and a C (you thought that would be another J, didn't you?), kubera501 and A, who will be offended if I rename her J, and a Mickey Mouse wearing a sparkler carved from a orange. Dinner was again utterly delicious and I plan to return to this place again, especially if I can continue to go to this place and be surrounded by good conversation while eating the food.
'Twas a very good dinner. And I loved the Mickey Mouse and sparkler.
Afterwards, coldecho and I meandered back to listen to some cheering Chthulu music, stopping along the way when we were caught by the terror of a house that had put up two - two - lit miniature Ferris wheels AND a bubble thing AND a merry-go-round and assorted other atrocities, which would have terrified tealfroglette had she been there. As it was, we needed the comfort of Chthulu. Eventually, however, coldecho left…
…and literally one minute later, at about 4 minutes after midnight, I was spending quality time in the bathroom and cruelly ignoring his knocks on the door.
This more or less set the pattern for the rest of the night. I will spare you, only to note that it was a moderately unpleasant night At about 5:30, though, it seemed that everything had passed, and I fell back to sleep, waking up at 9 and thinking, "Yay, Christmas!" I called Aunt L., and….
and about midway through that conversation realized that I was not going to be up to speaking to any one else for awhile., and went right back to the bathroom, and then to bed, cuddling up with George RR Martin's Dreamsongs (volume 1). (Mildly off topic: highly recommended collection of Martin's previous short stories, only two of which I'd encountered before, "A Song for Lya" and of course "Sandkings.") About midway through one short story I realized that this was not the best time to be reading horror fiction, however short the stories, and then fell asleep again. At around 2 or so, I woke up again, and noted that a few people had called me, and tried to call people back. Alas, my first return call went poorly, since I was under the impression that unsigned was coldecho, and unsigned was under the impression that I was coherent, mutual impressions that were rather difficult to drop. Eventually unsigned realized that now was really not the best time, and left me to put in some serious doing nothing time. This was good, and after a few more hours, I started feeling decidedly better, which allowed me to hang out with him and a few other friends later that evening.
I'm still a bit rundown from all of this, but feeling decidedly better. Much thanks to everyone who helped make the 24th a much, much better day for me than it usually is, and apologies again for everyone that I didn't manage to call back on the 25th.
And happy Boxing and St. Stephen's Day to all!