Back from breakfast and the supermarket, a blue berry waffle with a banana on top, my usual mixed melon cup and coffee. Starts the day on a good note, I think, leaving the being in a rut business aside. Cat food, of course, at the supermarket, along with a couple of other items needed to keep body and soul together. The soul seems alright - who really knows about one's soul? - and the body is, well, still moving, still functioning, still getting older. Interesting stuff, getting older, but infinitely better than not.

I didn't get to that event in front of the Oakland City Hall yesterday between five and seven. It did indeed rain through the afternoon, but cleared up in time to catch a bus and attend, but I blew it off as I seemed to have various things coming on: a sore throat, a tendency toward chills and a right eye that suddenly puffed up and started leaking. Don't want to be taking pictures out in the cold with a right eye that's leaking.

The test, of course, is how you feel the next morning and this morning these things seem to be better. The eye looked a mess, all gummy and half shut first thing in the mirror, but a clean wash cloth dipped in warm water cleaned it right up and it looks reasonably good now an hour or so later. The sore throat and “on the edge of having chills” also seem to have taken their own course, but to somewhere else, to someone else, and I'm feeling much better. If I were a superstitious sort I'd burn a little incense and genuflect.

There's a WonderCon going on over at Moscone Center in the city today and tomorrow, I was thinking of attending around noon to say hello to Mr. W, who's signing books in the artist area. We'll see, but if I feel as I do now, I'll go.

With the sore throat?

Spread the wealth, as they say. No, I'll stay here if the throat gets worse or the eye starts looking like a WonderCon costume accessory, but either way, there's a decent day ahead. (Hup! Hup!) Oh, and I did finish those Telegraph Avenue pictures. I kind of like them, there turned out to be two pages worth, some forty-two photographs. I'm still not certain where they stand in my picture universe, whether I'm kidding myself they have any merit, but again, so what? We'll continue to experiment and do what feels right. Freedom from your critical self, when your critical self doesn't know what he's talking about, is no small accomplishment.

By the way, some may notice these entries seem to be getting impossibly longer, but I see that as a sign the head may be coming together. I do have to have some semblance of clarity to write. I still have issues with not spending enough time editing, not a small issue, but again, whatever the quality, from my standpoint it's a sign of progress. (Light some incense and genuflect.)

Later. Well, still the aches and pains, walking slowly, but I did go over to WonderCon and said hello to Ms. C and Mr. W, the both of them at a table in a sea of people. This damned thing was crowded. It took me twenty minutes to figure out where to buy a ticket, people in rivers and streams going here and there as if they knew what they were doing. A couple of pictures and then out the door and back on BART, arriving just in time to catch the bus and return home pooped. Maybe it's this flu-cold thing I'm sporting. The eye ran a bit on the train over, but seemed reasonably dry by the time I returned. A slight bit feverish, perhaps. That could explain the tired feeling after a very light stretch of walking.

We can be inventive here: a case of the (oh, horrors!) swine flu perhaps, sneaking in through some unsuspecting portal, but then stopped and made to go away in short order by the anti-bodies I built up after the vaccination I had a month or so ago. Give myself a pat on the back. Give those old anti-bodies a cheer! A pat on the back and then to bed for a nap, I'm thinking.