that noise you hear in the background is my brain squeaking

So I started writing this piece about our expedition yesterday for me to read at the KGB Bar in Manhattan: the reading was by four authors with stories in the ellen_datlow  anthology Inferno. I'm currently ruing my bravado in undergoing this trip, flu-buggered as I am; we got home at about 1am, with me in such a comatic state that poor pds_lit  was subjected to me being  jolly.

There are depths.

Pam is currently slumbering. We'd assumed she'd missed out on the super-extra-nasty flu that hit me last Thursday/Friday (how come you rarely got hit by these bugs in the past, Paul? because I was a slave to Socialized Medicine, I confess it, wot a total bumhead I am), but we seem to have been wrong.

My description of the KGB wonderama was destroyed by LJ's software because I couldn't recall offhand Elizabeth Bear's LJ name. I went away to look, and by the time I got back there was a blank page.

So: My co-readers were Nathan Ballingrud (nballingrud ), Elizabeth "Difficult Moniker To Remember" Bear (matociquala ) and Jeffrey Ford (14theditch ). I think we did OK. I was just amazed that my voice held up.

Whatever, forget my egocentric crap: go over to pastorbear , who's in real difficulties. She's worth far more than this stuff.

UPDATE: Ellen Datlow has put pix at http://tinyurl.com/29w9ta.