Saw all sorts of people: people whose names I don't know, but know from rubbing elbows at SF events; people whose names I've forgotten, because I'm masterful at that; people whose names I can actually manage to remember. Marci Malinowicz and Michael Scanlon and
Then I dashed off to get to the pool before it closed. I forget how pleasantly meditative the breast stroke can be. Tonight was Lock Yourself Out of the Hotel night, apparently. All sorts of people were doing it, and there was nothing I could do for any of them.
Now I must decide between finishing the Iain Banks book and going to sleep...