muckefuck | Memorial Day whimpering

I awoke this morning with every intention of heading to Sidetrack later in the day to slurp g-n'-t's and hug bears (or vice-versa), but two factors conspired to keep me homebound. The least of these was the weather: overcast and cool, with a threat of rain. Lord knows that isn't unusual for Mem Day and hasn't kept me home in the past. But I woke up with loose bowels and a tummy ache, which made me feel about as sexy as a crocheted toilet roll cozy. I've been hunkered down, swallowing simple remedies and hoping for it pass, but it's just not happening.

And so draws to a close my most minimal Bear Pride in fifteen years. I didn't make it to a single official event and attended only one unofficially official one, the Bear House (formerly Block) Party in Andersonville. And even that was a minimal production this year, shorn of at least two thirds its regular crush of guests by a convergence of causes, including weather and uncertainty. Not that it wasn't a blast, but the attendance drop converted it from a must-do event where I could be assured of seeing just about everyone to an ordinary friendly get-together. After years of blowouts, this felt positively intimate (uncomfortably when I first arrived to a mostly-empty house and hung in a corner making chitchat with the high-spirited bartenders).

If I can ever get this failing wreck of a body to hold together, I may yet creep over to

spookyfruit's and

welcomerain's, though I know I'll find it challenging not to overindulge in excellent food and drink. Bummed out? A little, of course, but yesterday's roaring success does a great deal to mitigate that.

monshu thanked me repeatedly for my minimal planning and I went to bed with a silly grin of satisfaction, and many promises were made for future rendezvous. I'm an adult; I know all about delaying gratification, don't I?

Memorial Day whimpering

I hope you feel better soon.