I thought I had 8 pieces to put in the art show this year -- I didn't have anything new, and I procrastinated too much on getting old stuff ready, so I planned for a minimal spread. When I got there and checked in I discovered I only had 7. After getting in at the art show, I made a halfhearted effort to find a dinner party, ate a sandwich in my room, hung out in the GT suite, filked until a little after 1, got extremely tired, and went to bed.
By the time I was up and ready Saturday, I'd missed all but the end of the Drake Equation panel, but I had a one on one conversation with beamjockey where he offered a reasonable case that the Drake Equation isn't quite as silly as it seemed to me. And he told me the super-secret history of the Heterodyne Boys, so now I'm one of the elite. I bought some books, listened to some concerts, attended the panel on the ethics of first contact, checked out the art show, hung out with GT, and generally felt like I always wanted to be in at least one other place in addition to the place I was until the filk pizza party. I think Giordano's has gone downhill, but it was still food. Despite being scheduled, no filk happened before almeda's concert, for which I was recruited to put arrows on the map of the US marking where the writers of the songs she was singing were found. It was a fun bit of shtick, and almeda gave a good show. The filk afterwards was pretty good, though I again found myself tiring earlier than I wanted to. I didn't actually get to my room until 3, somehow, since I thought I started heading there by 2, and worse, I didn't manage to sleep soundly and was rather zombified Sunday.
Sunday the main business was getting out. I got my stuff to the car without too much pain, thanks to having put one guitar and my filk bag in the car Saturday night and keeping the other guitar (Tiger) and my art bag out. I got my art, where I discovered that someone had bought Tuckered Out at minimum, so I actually sold two pieces. And I just realized as I wrote the last sentence that I forgot to pick up my check in person before I left (she'd been too busy to write checks by the time I'd checked out), so Trouble will have to mail it to me. I spent half an hour taking down flats, which I actually really enjoyed; I enjoyed taking the art show down a lot last year and I would have helped out more, but I had to get The Copier of Doom. So after Art Warneke's concert, which went well, and a bit of jamming which was fairly fun though not tremendous,
Somehow, Jan had acquired a color copier that she wanted to donate to EFRC, but she couldn't fit it in her car, so at OVFF she had recruited me to come get it. And we managed to do this this afternoon, and the copier and all of our stuff all fit in the car -- but only just barely. And the copier, which is a good deal bigger than Jan had suggested with her "it's about this big" hand motions, and also way too heavy for me to lift by myself, is still in my car and probably will have to stay there until Sunday, because I can't get it out of the car without help and if I do, I won't be able to get it back in to deliver it.
Now I go fall over. My pants may well be bankrupt; at the very least, I'm not catching up tonight.