"Why, Spongebob? Why?"

Well, the second day of MuppetFest was a bust, I guess. An inconceivable amount of weirdness ensued with Kevin, and I saw myself lose my temper, which I really hate to do. It's a shame, because I was really glad we were getting to be friends, and I think this has put an unusually large kink in the fabric of things. It's not that it isn't repairable. It's just that it showed me some things about our personalities. And I think they were probably lessons best learned early. So good for me, then. I suppose.

Martìn was a witness to all of it and did his best to not let me end the night feeling as if I had been a beast of a person. I was grateful for that. And took him to Mr. Cecil's for a nice helping of barbecue and venting. This was also intended to congratulate him on his latest coup: the landing of the job at Disney. After I finally wrested my evening back, Martìn offered to take a raincheck on dinner, but I wouldn't let him. I hugged him and cried a little. Another thing I hate to do. I'm glad of Martìn. He is a fine friend.

We had breakfast at Hugo's on Santa Monica and saw Brian Cox breakfasting before us. He was the principal in Rushmore, as an entry on a very long filmography. I guess that was an interesting thing to note.

The highlight of MuppetFest was the panel session with the puppeteers and their puppets talking and taking questions. I took a handful of photographs before a finger-wagging staff person told me I couldn't just hang out in front of the stage indefinitely, despite the prominent display of my V.I.P. badge. I took comfort in the fact that she soon after told Heather Henson, who was sitting right behind me, that she would have to turn off her video camera. I think that might have been a fair indication that she wasn't entirely tuned in.

I should get back to the living room, where a nice fire still burns in the fireplace, and I can enjoy a little time to think before the week overtakes me again.