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Actual Vuvuzela

It takes me way too long to wind down from anything, especially because my brain needs to process stuff. I am missing months from when I have not processed properly.

I woke up sooner than I thought I would given my bedtime, but I was generally groggy until the time I actually should have woken up. Isn't that always the case with me? I'm no good to anyone until the time I should have been awake anyway, and only sometimes do I get to prop myself up with caffeine and fake it. I can act, sometimes, while all bleurgh. Sometimes. That does make things surreal for those around me.

The fun with [personal profile] tiferet's phone started when it called me instead of wherever she was supposed to be calling for some errand. I saw that missed call and called my aunt to figure out what we were doing because I'd hoped to get some combination or other of JD/Ryan & Tif together to meet my sister. (Brain was not firing on all thrusters, and these days schedule coordination with Tif has been the low-effort thing. Must see the guys at some point soonish.) I learned that Tay's plan for the morning involved a hike up Telegraph Hill to watch the pretty birdies, and there was dinner. Plans for a craft sort of afternoon were quickly scrapped when I learned that Tif's phone call had been her phone's idea, but dinner was a go.

Eventually I got her picked up, we collected a gluten-free entree (plus dessert, and happy goat cheese) at Trader Joe's (and met some old buddies of hers), and there was dinner. Dinner and hilarity!

The major world-changing accomplishment of the night was introducing Tay to the concept of the vuvuzela. Tay has spent the past 10 years mostly avoiding the internet and seriously music-geeking, so she is both rather out of tune (heh) with pop culture (she was first introduced to Dragostea din Tei via the crappy song that samples it, through work radio, rather than on the internet or at a Thanksgiving celebration like many of the rest of us) and slightly alarmed that there was a musical instrument that she knew nothing of. She is already attempting to figure out interesting things to do with them.

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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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