NRAAM Diary

0530: Awaken to the sound of my clock-radio humming to itself, as fire-truck sirens scream by a few blocks over -- College Avenue, maybe -- and dwindle slowy

0540: Awaken again.  Headache like a dull hammerblow, centered between left cheekbone and temple. Find book (Stross's The Jennifer Morgue, on my third re-reading in as many years) and carry to reshelve, since I finished it last night.  (Stross's SOE-spinoff occult-intelligence agency, "Capital Laundry Services," operates in a universe very compatible with that of Larry Correia's "Monster Hunter International" series, with Stross's US-based "Black Chamber" playing NSA to Correia's FBI-analog "Monster Control Bureau."  While the style, setting and tone of the two bodies of work neatly illustrates at least some aspects of the UK-US cultural divide as personified by the two writers, their mutual debt to H. P. Lovecraft and the good entertainment to be found in both men's work tells me that gap -- and other divides in SF -- isn't nearly so deep or wide as might be supposed.)

0550 - 0615: Make toast and coffee, feed cats, check charging state of Chromebook.  (0600: TV wakes up, starts talking to itself about the news until Tam wanders into my room and looks at it to see if "anything interesting" [World War III, invasion of Formosa, Bloomberg suddenly Seeing The Light] happened overnight.  Apparently not; she wandered back out shortly after Huck finished wolfing down his breakfast.)

0615 - 0630: Ibuprofen (at last) with food, post Some Darned Thing on The Internet.

0630 - Whenever: Shower, etc.  Hey, that's now!  Seeya.

0700 - 1000: Uh-oh. Last night's dinner revolts.  I blame the chow-chow relish.

1300: NRA Press Room wi-fi does not work well for anyone -- and doesn't work at all for my Chromebook.  Major fail!  NRA staffers very apologetic.  Hire an IT gunslinger, NRA!

Photos coming.  Saw lots of kewl stuff, met online friends in RL.  Big fun was had!

BANG--  Er, no: it's a laser!