I simply have to open up my favorite page of Mark Twain quotes, get lost, and 'lo, I find half a day has gone missing.
Much the way this weekend went- I spent weeks waiting, preparing, planning and bribing for it- only to have it pass by way too fast. I'm pretty sure I'm suffering from whiplash from the speed that the Pirate's Other Salty Ball came and went.
The Brigands (if you don't have one of their CDs, you should!) came up to do a one night only performance in Manchester, CT with proceeds going to the Testicular Cancer Society. Somehow, close to 200 people fit into a set of rooms about the size of most 2 bedroom apartments for mayhem and music.
By the end of the much rum and other libations had been consumed- although, I still maintain that I wrenched my ankle by stepping on some one's boot while dancing, and not while stepping into a stray depression in the ground as my reputation leads most to believe.
There's a reason why we're on board ship and not following the drums still.
And now, 'tis back to my mundane calling I go.
~ From the journal of Pheona Ni' Choinaoith
Pilot, Black Rose II