Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

Way behind on stuff. Trying to deal with getting to a reasonable going-away-for-the-weekend point on this work assignment, getting ready to go away for the weekend, figuring out how much money to feel guilty about asking my mother for this month, getting my nails done, getting ready for a gig tomorrow, and maybe, like, sleeping some more or something.

Wanted to play that "say something about twenty people on your friends list but don't say who" meme, but fortunately stumbled across somebody else's comments about their friends that happened to say just what I needed to say about mine! How lucky is that?[1]

Hope to get cat photo(s) online today, but might not have time to do so before I go to the mountains in New York. Latest news: she's started playing. Couldn't interest her in playing before, but now she's decided that a little toy mouse is fun to bat around. If she wants stroking, nothing will distract her from that goal, but when she's willing to let me do something else, she'll play. Yay.

Half of The Homespun Ceilidh Band is performing tomorrow, Friday, 20 June 2003, in Washington DC, at 3:00 PM (We're a nine-piece band. We have four people definitely showing up tomorrow, and one maybe. That makes four-and-a-half people, thus half the band, right?) The event is the Fete de la Musique DC. It starts at 11:00 AM and runs the weekend in various locations around DC.

We're performing at an outdoor stage "at the Ronald Reagan Building, near Freedom Plaza" according to the info I've got. Apparently near the Federal Triangle Metro station. Admission is free.

Damn. The cat just slid off my lap (almost in slow-motion). Since I'm naked, that means I've now got four parallel scratches in my left thigh that'll itch in the heat over the weekend. I get the impression that she learned to be a lap-cat when she was smaller, 'cause she keeps trying to arrange herself in ways where the geometry doesn't quite work, but where she'd fit if she were still a kitten. Or maybe she's just used to people sitting in a different style of chair when she sits on them. The scratches aren't deep (only one drew any blood at all, and that just barely), but I'm allergic. Oh well. I'm sure it won't be the last time.

[1] Okay, cop-out, I know, but it amused the Hell out of me, is actually something I could honestly say, and fits well with theferrett's diatribe on the subject.