Interview About the Psychic Vampire

Finally, I faced up to the fact that I was not going to be able to dodge Carolyn's questions forever. I started trying to compile a list, right after I got off the phone with the house-pest (thanks, Kacey, for a fitting term.) Say a prayer for Kenny Briscoe. He was last seen carrying an obscene amout of packages, trotting obediently five steps behind the she-demon.

Said demonette, by the way, since Kenny was safely not in earshot, made a rude comment at me about how I shouldn't pick a fight with my barber before or during a haircut, but if I'd decked him after the last one, anyone would understand. Lovely.
You make one simple observation about how they make stuff for crow's feet nowadays, and you unleash the floodgates.

But if anyone has suggestions for questions I should answer, I'll take them. In fact, in order to prevent only presenting my bias, I'll see if I can get her to answer any next week, during the slower bits of the out-of-control-carnival she's orchestrating.

Apparently, this incident-in-the-making really is some sort of art thing/benefit/production, but she said she'll explain right before it starts.
Then she turns around and clarifies that it runs until Twelfth Night, not twelve nights. Because, she says, that way wouldn't make any sense, would it?

But the Festivus part is the one I'm worried about. The fact that she's flat-out called it a "bacchanalia" is so not a good sign. I'm taking off for it fairly soon. A fuller report tomorrow.

Oh, and to what goes on at Alex's? Part of trying to behave in gratitude for sanctuary is respecting the fact that what she wants you to know, she'll tell you. Much as I might like to "high-five" the keyboard.