Absurdly long weekend. Taking care of a friend's cat while he's away. Had a lot to do. Found out somebody hacked into my email for a while and was reading it; no more. Wrote a lot. My bed is covered with unread books, including some I'm supposed to review, that I dread cracking open. I saw Cyrus, which I loved, despite my Jonah Hill allergy.
My dad's ensemble had a concert at the National Gallery last night; here's the Washington Post review. Oh and here's another one. I really wish I'd been in Washington, D.C. to see it.