Went to KGB last night to hear
blackholly read. Had forgotten what a peculiar place it is. Some theater group was rehearsing upstairs and periodically slammed doors, smashed vases, and shouted, "Hah! you'll be back!" during the reading. This lent the experience a nicely fantastic air, but made it hard to hear. And I missed most of Holly's reading, dammit.
Had the feeling the whole time that the room (which was packed--go, Holly) was full of people whom I know (sort of), but only by peculiar pseudonyms and alternate personalities. That is: people whose more radical private sex fantasies and literary theories (which are often one and the same) are familiar to me, but whose faces and, oh, say, preference in beer are a deep mystery.
This turned out to be true. Was nice to put faces and real names to
jlh and
ali_wildgoose and to see
epicyclical. *waves*
My view of the purpose and meaning of toy action figures has been forever altered. Can't decide if this is a Good Thing or not.
Am so sick of rain. Is definitely Second Flood.
At dinner (with non-LJ folks) heard amazing news about the Warka Vase being returned to the Baghdad museum.
Warka VaseCannot believe I hadn't heard earlier. Amazing, amazing; like getting the Mona Lisa back, only even more so. And there's the possibility that at least some of the Nimrud and Ur tomb treasures are safe--maybe even votive figures... the Innana Head is still missing. But, oh! the vase is intact. Not even damaged. I made an ass of myself in the restaurant by crying. Floated home on euphoric cloud to find message from Evil Nephew on my voicemail, taunting me about OoP. Must plan revenge.