bleh

Last night was the final night of Tuning the Air at CHAC. We had a large audience, the largest of the entire run, and BR counted 83 occupied seats.

After tearing down, packing up, and saying goodbye to CHAC, I rode with Igor A. to the after-party celebration.

Merlot wine, pizza, salmon, salsa, beer, chocolate-covered pretzels, champagne, toasts, and good cheer abounded.

Later, while Igor A. and Travis cleaned up, Igor K. told the tale of how the KGB interrogated him when he was a young man in the old Soviet Union. Igor K. was a long-haired rocker dude, clearly an enemy of the Revolution. They led him down long, enormous hallways with endless doorways on each side, all designed to make a person feel as tiny as an ant. They sat him down at a table and stuck a bright light in his face. They asked him about his reading habits (specifically, a book by Ouspensky that apparently contained a passage describing the Bolsheviks in disparaging terms). They confronted Igor with extracts from his own personal diary.

Igor is still with us, so the story ultimately ended well.

He dropped me off, and I stayed up for a little while reading the latest Thomas Covenant book. I've been a Stephen Donaldson fan for many years, but sometimes I must either take a break from his writing or only read it in small chunks; his characters and situations are always so in extremis that it wears me out.

Today, I eventually rolled out of bed around 1:45 PM, hungover, grumpy, and feeling like a zombie.

I stopped by UW Bookstore and found a small gift for my parents. I had it gift-wrapped, and the gift-wrapping lady virtually threw it at me when she was done.

One of those days.