Turn out the lights, the party's over.

I woke up about thirty-three hours ago. Since then I have:

• Watched Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
  
• Worked a full day
  
• Finished and photocopied my Muses puzzle
  
• Napped for two hours
  
• Finished cleaning my house
  
• Hosted a fourteen-hour party, during which I
  
  • Met many new people
    
  • Gave away stuff (though not everything moved)
    
  • Solved many puzzles
    
  • Ate much good food
    
  • Moved tables and chairs around like a madman
    
  • Watched people diligently stew over the Muses puzzle.
    
  • Listen to people beg me for clues (which I was usually nice enough to give)
    
  • Felt waves of relief and satisfaction as the final pieces of understanding fell into place for the winning team.
    
  • Bid most everyone goodbye
    
  • Played a complex word game invented by one of the remaining guests
    
  • Bid more people goodbye
    
  • Played a five-turn game of Kill Doctor Lucky
    
  • Played a normal-length game of Kill Doctor Lucky
    
  • Bid my final guests farewell
• Read my emails and wrote this post, content in the knowledge of a party well hosted
  

I'll write more later, but now. Sleep. Have a good day.

Afternoon thoughts.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm.....Afternoon.

Sunday, Sunday. So good to me...

veek likes to see the leaves fall, but for me, nostalgia comes easily on a Sunday afternoon, any time of the year. Of course, nowadays, I don't get many Sunday afternoons, so you can bet I'm enjoying this one.

It's an odd melange of emotion. There's an afterglow of contentment for a fantastic and invigorating party combined with the thrill of performance that came with presenting Museum Piece. But there's also a sense of loss, an acute awareness that I'm missing someone to share this day with. Which fuels nostalgia, joyous and painful, that I hadn't been able to experience in such an unadulterated form in a while.

I put on music I haven't listened to in years, sometimes, because I haven't been in the mood to hear them, this mood. It's the reason I keep so many CDs, I know that, eventually, my emotions will swing around to a place when I'll want to hear that particular music. Jobim, Dudley, Lara played loud, sing along, with the windows and doors open letting the soft, seductive breeze slips silently through the canyon into my house while I wash the dishes and put away the chairs in my warm comforting pajamas. I remember family, friends, exes and time alone, desperate and exultant all throughout my life.

Mmmm...

Sorry, loves, but I'm going back to it. Anything more will have to wait until night fall, when the television is turned on, pulling me back to the present fiction broadcast to the nation, and when the chill and darkness of night force me back inside.

Till then, here's proof of my good mood, in the form of an unshowered, unshaven, uncharacteristically unself-conscious MellowSaw.