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The Long Dance Good-night

the better to bore you with, my dear

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Starting June 13th I'm not going anywhere else and YOU CAN'T MAKE ME
My super-comfortable, more-expensive-than-flip-flops-have-any-right-to-be flip-flops came in from Zappos last week, which means I've spent the week taking every opportunity to drive and walk around barefoot. Yes, including the office. I've missed this.

Anyway. The days of sleep deprivation and workplace ennui are conspiring to keep me from concentrating on this long enough to cover everything I want to cover; thankfully this post has been in draft form pretty much all week. And it's been fuck-all hectic week, no more accurate way to put it. Annie-lady and I have been at her old apartment every night getting the last of her worldly possessions consolidated, packed, and shifted. Arduous, but the relief felt when this is all done will be astronomical. Unfortunately, I'm headed to Chesapeake late tomorrow for a family get-together on Sunday which we were planning to attend together, but now she has to work. Which means that after I get back from that, I only have her for three days.

Because then: Bhak-tour! We leave Thursday night. Dates, for the curious:

It's going to be Jdavyd, Arcadia, Patrick, and myself, piled into my very own Batwagon. Only two days ago did we finally attempt negotiating the most worrisome pieces of equipment into the back of it, and were met with a success that prompted much loud exhalation. Just a few more loose ends to tie down, and then it's on the road under circumstances that couldn't be more different than the tour just polished off.

Oh right, and as for the tour just polished off: crazy good fun, and over before I knew it. Which makes sense seeing as how it was a show every night and third the length of the previous one (and a fraction of the driving distances). I almost feel a twinge of guilt or disjoint at not having much else to say, worried that that might be misconstrued as a lack of appreciation for how very lucky I am to get to do these kinds of things. But then again, there was so little happening this go-round outside of performances, it really wasn't the same. But still: crazy good fun.

The highlight of course was a certain someone making the drive to Philadelphia for Dracula's Ball, where I spent the evening alternating between repeat mentions of how completely abnormal this kind of VIP treatment was and how completely ecstatic I was to see her. Young as this relationship is, it was the first prolonged period of time we'd spent apart, and while of course we handled it well, handling it well also involved missing each other like crazy.

Which now we get to do again, come next Thursday. For longer. Kind of crap.


...I sure do talk a lot about just one person lately, don't I?