Barely-controlled bedlam here. Fetish clothes and BDSM toys are being tossed about the room in a frenzy of packing. iPods are being loaded with road tunes. Cats are sulking at the sight of suitcases (What? she thinks, my slave is leaving town? Inconceivable!). And SEAF-related spontaneous houseguests have materialized, because Max and I are so the Hotel Kink in Seattle.

But this is not your chaos to organize. Go read about how not to pick people up, based on an extensive survey of a dozen of my pals at a brunch party two weeks ago. Plus (ahem) years of personal experiences, both triumphant and catastrophic.

And go see SEAF. It's great.

Bye!