Some of Cambridge was a bit...well, y'know - but The Calling was saved from being a bleak night of watching people get [drunk/wound up/off with inappropriate tree-dwellers] by Chris, who appears to remain the only sane person in Cambridge. If only they came pocket-sized in boxes, etc etc.
But now I'm home, which is good, and The F Word is on tonight, which is good, obviously, and everything else I'll just. Hide from. I hate being ill.
Like many people, I expect, I feel strange for posting anything about myself at the moment; I don't have anything of my own to add to the memories of Tal, though. I'm reading everyone's.