I can't even come up with a decent title for this entry. Phooey on that.

Last night rafaela attended a Celtic jam session hosted by our good friend Bill. He had invited a whole hoard of his cronies in the Pagan community, to make this a grand Imbolc event, and most of them had shown enthusiasm. Total actual attendance? Three. rafaela, Bill and me. Swell. (Oh make that four: Bill's friend, who ran the cultural center where the event was supposed to take place; she had to bail early, sadly.) Ah, well. "John Barleycorn" sounded good, anyway.

The only other bit of recent eventness was the arrival of my 1099 from the magazine, which mean I can finally pry my refund money out of the IRS's cold, dead fingers. Not a moment too soon. (Here, could you hold this torch and keep the phone and power companies away long enough for me to make a break for it? Thanks much.) I also found out that my interest income from my credit union last year wouldn't cover the cost of a 20-ounce Pepsi at the local Stewart's. I'm anticipating that my tax preparer will laugh at me.

In other news, the February Curse seems to be picking off one friend after another like a fate sniper. How you doin'?