Weddings and things

Despite her generally despicable record at making it to weddings, this Dreva actually managed to get to Kairi's and Archangels. Unfortunately, I had been testing a potion earlier that day and mistaken a left-left-right-left stirring pattern for a left-left-left-right stirring pattern, and, as a result, was a minor narcoleptic all day. So I was passing out on Xuvenia's shoulder most of the evening. But I was myself for parts! It seemed a lovely wedding, and, despite certain spectral interference, seemed to go very will. I missed the reception due to another passing-out thing. Also, Orchid's date, Professor Carnegie Hurst, retired, furnished Dreva with a bottle of vodka later in the day. Carnegie deserves our praise and acclaim.

What else has Dreva done? Oh, yes, we have a singer, who goes by the name of a well known and rather delicious restorative beverage. There have been more practices, and we have a few songs ready, we think. Hire us!

Dreva wanted to write about something else on Drevablog next time I did, but I've totally forgotten what. I'll write it next time.

Paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain

Dreva is a guitar player an' a druid, and she is in the Witches of Ribbit and the Druid Anticlan. These two have been causing her pain. Not emotionally, noooo. Me bandmates are sweet and loving and the Anticlan is, as always, a source of uncooperative joy. But physical is another matter.

Between band practice and playing guitar in my closet, I must have played for hours yesterday. The fingertips on my left hand feel like I bruised bone. I know you can't literally bruise bone. I am a professional druid, after all.

Which has had its side effects too. I've been continuing my ongoing research into delicious potions that make me feel funny (and benefit mankind and druidkind and almost anything but surgeon or SSGWkind.) Now, I know what I'm doing, but this is bleeding edge. Particularly the bleeding edge of my forehead after another vial has gone 'splodey on me. I have to keep the mirror covered up to keep it from being damaged in the explosions, but I think I may have singed one of my eyebrows yesterday. *mourn*

Also? *I* put the bop in the bop doo wop. It wasn't a man, but you can shake my hand if you want.