Con report!

Well, not exactly. I mean, I did see some of the con and it was fun, but I spent a lot of time running around Dizzyland with the nephew and holed up with the filkers, singing. But I had a great time regardless. The friend who floated me bedspace won an award at the Masquerade (woohoo!), and I learned heard a whole lot of songs, fragments of which are still floating around in my head. "There's oobleck in the bathtub" being one of them. (Try explaining that to your mundane coworkers when you're crooning it absently as you process books...)

I burbled at my sister about the New Avengers and she burbled at me about the book she's writing and I saw several hobbits running about. (If I can find the cable that goes to my camera so I can download the pics, I'll post some of 'em.) I didn't get to the performance of the Prancing Pony Players because it conflicted with a book raffle for which I'd bought tickets, unfortunately, but I'm told it was great fun. (I didn't make it through the raffle either -- a little too much Dizzyland that morning and very hot sun! -- but the person I gave my tickets to was so thoroughly astonished and grateful that I felt justified anyway.)

I've come home and fallen over about five minutes after I get in the door every night, which is payback for staying up at the dead dog filker party till the wee California hours and then trying to readjust to the East Coast. Yes, my body really did think it was 5:30 in the morning when I went to bed... I now have heard the ballad of Eskimo Nell and I was too tired to blush, so heaven only knows what the other ragged-enders think of me. It's probably true anyway...

I haven't a hope of catching up on my flist. If there's anything vital I should look at, (or not so vital, but of interest), kick me in the comments and I'll try to wake up.

Con report!

Well, not exactly. I mean, I did see some of the con and it was fun, but I spent a lot of time running around Dizzyland with the nephew and holed up with the filkers, singing. But I had a great time regardless. The friend who floated me bedspace won an award at the Masquerade (woohoo!), and I learned heard a whole lot of songs, fragments of which are still floating around in my head. "There's oobleck in the bathtub" being one of them. (Try explaining that to your mundane coworkers when you're crooning it absently as you process books...)

I burbled at my sister about the New Avengers and she burbled at me about the book she's writing and I saw several hobbits running about. (If I can find the cable that goes to my camera so I can download the pics, I'll post some of 'em.) I didn't get to the performance of the Prancing Pony Players because it conflicted with a book raffle for which I'd bought tickets, unfortunately, but I'm told it was great fun. (I didn't make it through the raffle either -- a little too much Dizzyland that morning and very hot sun! -- but the person I gave my tickets to was so thoroughly astonished and grateful that I felt justified anyway.)

I've come home and fallen over about five minutes after I get in the door every night, which is payback for staying up at the dead dog filker party till the wee California hours and then trying to readjust to the East Coast. Yes, my body really did think it was 5:30 in the morning when I went to bed... I now have heard the ballad of Eskimo Nell and I was too tired to blush, so heaven only knows what the other ragged-enders think of me. It's probably true anyway...

I haven't a hope of catching up on my flist. If there's anything vital I should look at, (or not so vital, but of interest), kick me in the comments and I'll try to wake up.