I'd been going out on Saturday, you see, to mark the appearance of biascut and glitzfrau in London, and I'd accrued some moral capital by helping alextiefling and friend_of_tofu move house in the early afternoon, which was interesting, also knackering. I think I did dodge a few bullets as regards picking things up in the wrong way - I half expected to wake up on Sunday with my back in tiny tiny pieces.
But out I went to town, and met the ladies in question and jossish and felinitykat and a few others whose names have not stayed in my poor head. And I formally introduced my flatmate khalinche, who knew some of them on the internet but not by face, and then I had to leave and go home immediately because I'm an idiot and had left my ticket to see Carter USM's Brixton gig back at the house. And so I wandered back to the tube station, and thought "Actually, I saw Carter last year, and they were pretty much unbeatable, and going back and out and down to Brixton will be an enormous faff, and also hey these people are excellent", so I stuck some coffee in me and returned to the pub, and then to dinner in the misnamed Pizza Express, during which I managed to have the small/far away confusion, and drink from a wine bottle rather than my beer bottle behind it. I may also have offered to help finish the second bottle, and then be presented with all the remaining wine on the table. And then out to the pub, at which point I may have become Fascinating (TM leedy), and then a wander back to the tube and home.
So why is it that, having specifically not spent Saturday night jumping up and down unwisely to New Cross's finest, I spent yesterday hobbling about with a knackered hamstring? Something's gone wrong! My Acts of Good have been misfiled! Maybe I mixed up the commission and omission halves of the form? How will I get my Karma unclamped now?
NB: this time though, the hangover was definitely mine.
The other thing of note over the weekend happened on Friday: went to the Foundry, was suprised by the aforementioned ladies' early presence in London, left after a while. And got chips from across the road. While I was in the chipshop, someone came in asking if Old Street was nearby, so I showed him using Google Maps on my mobile, and off he went. And then there were chips to eat outside, and three separate other people coming up to me to ask for directions! None of them seemed bothered that I already had a map up on my phone with our whereabouts on it, but that's probably due to overly high expectations of technology - naturally it sits in its metal cage awaiting instructions, rather than the usual minute of waiting and squinting that it actually demands.