Farewell, Daniel and Kelly

Last night, Daniel Spector and Kelly Buehler held a party in San Francisco at the rather-evocatively named Center for Sex and Culture because they are off to Thailand for the indefinite future. While the cold is still with me and I'm not feeling much better this morning, I did head up to the City to attend the party for a while. Not feeling that well, I wasn't particularly energetic. I ended up in one of the side rooms (less loud music noise, easier conversation, which is important when you have a sore throat and still want to talk), and as is the way of such things when people like me, Tom Whitmore, David Gallaher, and David Clark end up in the same room, some smoffing did occur. But it was pretty tame stuff, really. No, I won't tell you what nefarious plans we cooked up for World Domination. Hm, maybe I shouldn't use the word "domination" when our conversation took place in a room whose most prominent piece of furniture was a padded table with handy attachment points for restraints....

I'm afraid I had to be a bit of wet blanket and leave early, though. As I was heading down the stairs, who should be coming up them but my friend Raven O'Neill, who was wearing one of her more provocative outfits (and something perfectly appropriate for this place; alas, I did not have a camera and I simply can't describe it other than it was leather and not a whole lot of it; there wasn't much to it, but then again, there isn't much to her). After escorting her upstairs and briefly admiring Raven, I did make my way out and walked down to Market Street, where a combination of Muni and BART got me home by midnight, where I fell into bed.

Wasted Weekend

I had all sorts of ambitious plans for this weekend. However, being sick with this cold means all plans are off. Now I just want to lie down and sleep a lot.

In response to suggestions about this being allergic in nature, now I don't think so. It's starting to show more cold-like symptoms. Bleah.

More Train Tales

Despite feeling not well at all, my high blood sugar reading this morning said, "You must go do some exercise of some sort." So I dragged myself out of the apartment and did a walk around the complex (1350 steps) then once more and down to the train station, intending to watch the afternoon Capitols go by. I took my 2m ham radio, tuned out-of-band to 160.74 MHz, which is the frequency used by Union Pacific for train operations in this area, so I could listen to the traffic. (I'm lucky that my radio is smart enough to realize that it's tuned outside of the licensed amateur band, so if I accidentally hit the transmit button, it simply displays OFF and doesn't transmit. The 2m ham band is just below the bands used by railroad operations in the USA and Canada.)

( More train neepery )

I'm surprised people took me seriously, given that I hadn't shaved, was wearing a beat-up old cap, and a ConJose t-shirt. Yet one person asked me if I worked for Amtrak -- I carefully told her I did not -- but maybe carrying a radio made them think I was important. Shrug.

Anyway, having done my good turn for the day, I headed back home to collapse back onto the couch.