I mentioned the friend who ditched out on the music outing I was trying to arrange by callously getting sick. I also mentioned that the nature of the illness was intestinal and that she had thoughtfully withheld details. Well, she's finally up & around again, able to drink wine but not eat anything that anyone sensible would call food. You win some and lose some, I guess. But that thoughtful reticence about the details of the personal plumbing is gone gone gone. Hooboy is it gone. . . .

I was at a camping event that was winding down. Friends & campmates were milling around getting ready to start thinking about preparations to strike camp & return home -- maybe 7 or 8 people. The event was held in Hawaii --

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Meanwhile, I was morbidly fascinated by this woman who hobbled into the place. The bar is a very divey biker-type joint, pleasantly rough around the edges, with friendly people, many clearly known to one another as regulars. She was well-known by the others around the pool table --

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So I get this letter in the mail inviting me to a musical instrument sale. It's run by a music store, or rather by a foundation established by the family that's run the store for decades. It's supposed to be selling instruments donated to the local university music program by the store, and part of the proceeds benefit the foundation and whatnot. Kind of confusing, but at the end part of the sales price qualifies as a tax-deductible contribution so that's all good.

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Jesus, I do not fucking believe these people. Do they not have eyes? Have they ever seen a goddamn web page before???

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So last evening, mixed in with the Mexican food and fine funk, I get this smack from the cluebat, courtesy of my pal from work, Melissa. She tells me that someone -- she refuses to say who -- came to her asking whether I'm gay, since I wear that pink scarf. Um. what?

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Snow does wonderful things to lights. Even stupid lights like the 'go around' lights on a cop car of the warning lights on a railroad crossing barrier. It filters and envelopes the light, diffuses it and softens it. It gives every mundane electircal bulb its own little white halo and makes it all angelic and stuff.

It plays merry hell with the roadways, but the lights certainly benefit.

Turns out that the little turd who rear-ended me did NOT have a valid insurance policy at the time of the accident, contrary to his representations to me and to the officer. Whee. Off to alert the Denver Police of that fact, so maybe his ticket can get a little heavier.

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I have to resolve all kinds of travel dilemmas. I'm scheduled for San Francisco in March for the PCA thing, then LA in May for Ivy's graduation celebration. I want to do the PCA show, as worried as I am about falling short in yet another academic environment, and I can't really miss the graduation. I got her into this, after all. And I'm interested in the SLA show in Seattle in June . . .

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Heya, PJ.