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My habitation is local.

10:47 xb95 http://www.linode.com/forums/viewtopic.php?p=27480#27480 HAHA
10:49 Noodles Awwww. You became a verb.

11:05 AM 3/9/2010
My "smart" alarm clock has sprung forward a week too early, apparently. Since I keep at least one clock on AZ time anyway, I won't bother resetting it and then resetting it again.

1:19 AM 3/10/2010
Back from A Local Habitation release party, which was also a Tricky Pixie concert. I was running a bit later than I strictly wanted to, so I got off at the sooner-stop rather than the later-stop, even though it's a bit farther to walk. I walked up the side of the street where the herb shop I researched online was, just to see where it was so I could come by when it was open.

Lo and behold, it was open! 6:30, not 4, as their website had said. I got red raspberry leaf tea (bulk), because my uterus and I have a mutual loathing society, and while it is not currently causing me grief, it does so on a regular basis. (Also, they had the spiral wire cage necklaces that I've been meaning to get for a die for *ages*, and pretty cheap.)

The store was immediately warm and comforting, and smelled very nice. I'd been expecting something with fewer other non-herb doo-dads; it looks like a nice little pagan/esoterica shop as well. I may have to go back sometime if I have non-herbal needs.

I showed up at the bookstore pretty well pleased with myself. I got a copy of the book, cooed at Ripley ("Whooooo looks like a little thornless rose goblin?"), got the book signed, then attempted to commence with the Crappy Cellphone Livecasting of the concert to [personal profile] zarhooie. It did not work so well. I then settled down in a table-bearing corner out of the worst of the crowd with the notebook paper I'd brought with me, because the characters, man, the characters are walloping me pretty hard. (Slightly uncouth to be writing at someone else's book release party, but I am *not going to argue* with the characters.)

Someone whose name I did not catch, but who was wearing a pretty awesome corset, was fiddling. Yay the fiddle!

Tricky Pixie started off with "Pixy Can't Sleep", and followed up with a song about scary things that go bump in the night. "Mushroom Song" was in there somewhere, and the round part of that had grabbed me hard last time; I will at some point when I know that it will be sung, bring the lyrics with me so that I can make a third part of the round. Tam Lin, of course. Seanan's mom wanted Alligator in the House, and the request was granted. There was more. There was always more. (There were several breaks in between, but I'm lumping all the music together.) It was the first performance of a song about the King of the Cats, especially for Tybalt. ♥ Alec played "He of the Sidhe" later in the evening (I was glad of my handkerchief), and lost a lot of bow hair and got interstitial applause. Seanan finished the music with "Wicked Girls Saving Ourselves".

There were door prize drawings. There was cheering after pretty much anything Seanan said. There was patter about US Customs, and some things that make them look at you funny, like buying ~$100 worth of gum, and bringing stuffed Ebola into the country. Hint: when bringing stuffed Ebola into the country, list it as "crocheted science doll" or some such other thing, not as "Ebola", and when you are asked your plans for the Ebola you have, "Oh, I'm going to give it to my friend!" makes Customs look and you and say, "So ... you have Ebola, and you're planning to give it to a US citizen!?"

Songs that did not make an appearance tonight from the band: The Notorious Salad of Doom. It did turn up in conversation, as did the "monkey brains" Calvin & Hobbes comic. Adding "OF DOOM" to any foodstuff automatically makes it more awesome. "If you don't eat your green beans of DOOM, how are you going to grow up to be a Dark Lord?" This, from the bald guy with the 21-year-old daughter, the guy with the "Knowledge is power. Power corrupts. Study hard. Be evil." shirt.

The café pretty much ran out of food because of the crowd, and entirely out of pastry. The only reason they hadn't run out of bread was that someone had gone out into the rain and got more. The evil bald guy ordered a "surprise me" meat and cheese plate (causing an evil laugh from one of the kitchen staff); I decided in favor of the same, given that I didn't know how much of what they had left. I was rewarded with pepperjack! Apparently this is not a regular menu item. The mustard was horseradishy and hot, and ever so tasty.

Ah yes, the rain. It started during the party, and I don't believe it's let up yet.

At one point a conversation started up (starring Seanan, of course) involving giant prehistoric dragonflies eating puppies. I overheard, and popped over to put in my $0.02 (to some guy who is apparently named Sean, as Seanan had burbled merrily off) that the dragonflies would prefer airborne prey, such as flying squirrels and pigeons. Tif put in that the giant sea scorpion in your swimming pool? One electrical cord later, you don't have as much of a problem. I wondered what would happen if you crossed a giant sea scorpion with an electric eel. "This is why you shouldn't genetically engineer things without a license," Tif decided. I wondered what would happen with raven vs. giant prehistoric dragonfly. Epic, I decided.

A dude wandered in, saw the crowd, and asked me if I knew what was going on. I explained, indicating Seanan in her Pumpkin Princess glory up at the mic: "She got a book published; this is the launch party; she brought a band." I then asked a few questions about his book interests and suggested that if he liked these things, he might in fact be interested in the book. I pointed him next door to the bookstore section. Hee. :D

Connie's schedule has now come into fruition. She has five classes. Not all of them may actually make their way into the book, but now there's a timetable, and I can actually structure her day in a way that makes internal sense, even if I never actually share her actual schedule with the audience. (This is the sort of thing that would be an internet extra if, you know, this actually winds up sold and published.) She has nicknames for all of the classes. we have not set up all of Raven's classes, nor Mike's, but those will happen at some point. Also, I seemed to be entirely missing weekends. Also also, a new Chapter 1 hit me. (Rather than Chapter 1 being The Cousin Problem, as it was before NaNo, and rather than it being a random near-the-beginning-of-the-term morning, this should start during the rescue of Connie from her cousin's.)

Conveyed various greetings from people on the internet to people who were there.

Honey is many things, but is NOT LUBE. (Yes. I went there. At the party. The evil bald guy was attempting to pour the crystallized honey, and, well... from "it's good on garlic bread", and "it's good on everything", it's not that far to "I know something it's *not* good for!" "What?" "Lube.")

As do all things, it wound down eventually.

Somewhere northish of Borderlands, someone put the graffiti "MUDBLOOD" on the sidewalk. JUST WHAT.

Did dinner with Tif. Yay, dinner with Tif! Worked out a lot of Connie's mom's issues. CONNIE'S MOM HAS ISSUES, YOU GUYS. (like, issues. ISSUES.) Wound up back at Tif's watching the season finale of White Collar (epic, man!) and gossiping.

Then [personal profile] durandal called, with more gossip, just as that was ending and I needed to start heading back to BART and home. We got cut off as I entered the great concrete bunker that is the station, but on the platform I was able to call back, and we didn't lose signal again (though noise:signal got unacceptable at a few points: loud BART is loud) until I was actually in my garage.

Crossposted. comment count unavailable comments.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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