A small box of old photographs. A festival at Sanctuary, a field full of people and the strong feeling that somehow I’d seen it all before.

I know nothing about cars, but that didn't stop me from testing several of them for legroom and headroom. Turns out some suspensions are a lot firmer than others.

I went in with some reservations and not that much enthusiasm. A few hours later I was hot, sweaty and wet, barely dressed and I may have some explaining to do.

Summer came onto me hard, kept me hot and spent months trying to get me out of my clothes. But autumn understands something summer never did: taking them off is much more fun.

With some of my wardrobe unavailable, a superhero party seemed perfect. I just hadn't anticipated how many people would misunderstand who they were supposed to dress as.

Sunday nights are a bit like cute guys: so many tempting options, but trying to take them all home might be a bit much. So I practiced restraint. Four places. Very modest.

Another beach, another excuse to wear very little. I’m ready to move indoors again, but it seems my body has become a public service. I suffer. You benefit.

The District had barely reopened before the streets filled up, Riips took over the decks and the mayor exposed the local drug lord. So much for urban renewal.

I started the evening listening to a live violinist and ended it with a DJ I’d missed, a camera full of pictures and a fairy meeting a lycan in the park. Some nights just have better range.

You’ve seen us in very little clothing and in places where good decisions are rare to happen. Then Mako opened The Blue Note and, suddenly, we all showed up looking absolutely magnificent.

When your extraterrestrial friend tells you he’s detected intelligent life, you investigate. Xeno’s instruments led us to a New Moon. Apparently they’re properly calibrated.

When the ringleader of the Kiyori cartel invites everyone to a party at her production facility, apparently you go. Everyone did. By the end of the night, we were all in the picture.

One moment it was producing a steady stream, the next it couldn't perform at all. A few simple strokes later, things were flowing rather enthusiastically again.

Things had finally returned to normal, so I entered Monday without a plan. Then Duda texted and next thing I knew, I found myself outside at Deep Box.

Fresh from the Roman baths and feeling much better, I was wondering what to do with the rest of my Friday. Then a message from Katt rather conveniently answered that question.

After getting pounded differently than usual, my body needed some recovery time. The Roman Baths offered warm water, healing hands and a friend who needed help stretching.

Eve had a lovely birthday. Indra was adorable. I got punched in the face. These things are not entirely unrelated. It was a wonderful evening, but I may have made the wrong decisions.

Some things are better when you have to wait for them. Stigmata, apparently. My pills, less so. Tuesday still worked out rather well.

Thursday at The Square, Friday at Scoutlounge. Saturday at Afterneath. I remember the music. I remember the people. My friends remembered me to bring my camera.

Late? Perhaps. Sober? Irrelevant. But I did bring back a rather large collection from an incredible and gorgeous weekend. Mostly of people. Lots of people. Here's day two of FVMF.