good goddamn, what now?
in which the author is rousted out of bed at 4 am by a fire alarm and learns what really matters to her.
in which I write about stuff
in which the author is rousted out of bed at 4 am by a fire alarm and learns what really matters to her.
in which the author says nothing particularly important.
Too overstimulated to be social, too wired to go back to the hotel room. So, thanks to Ethan Marcotte, I’m at Halcyon, a coffeeshop on 4th.
omg I met zeldman at the break. (he happens to be a midget.) plus kottke. danah boyd & panel. global vs. local. myspace, using the net to connect with people you already know. and play. video games, online gaming, etc. we continue on playing the rest of our lives. big green stickers. an all-woman panel. [...]
in which the author learns from a favorite author & his co-presenter.
I’m terrible with names. And I want to remember who I met this weekend. So I’m using the registrant directory and adding people I’ve met to my contact list. The critical thing, I’m finding, is to process my photos and business card swaps asap. Otherwise, the names go in one ear and out the other.
in which the author tries to recap, slowly this time, the events of the previous evening. there was much socializing. also includes today’s likely agenda.
too tired to write coherently, too awake to go to sleep. break bread with brad was very cool, if very noisy.? met Ralph (hi!), plus a bunch of people I didn’t know at all before today.? also met JJG and was sort of fangirl-ish.? “oh, you’re Mr. Rebecca Blood!”? (his tips for SXSW? drink lots [...]
I’m going to BBwB, sans H.? (she has work again.)
in which the author scours the stores of south Congress, meets a lovely goth proprietress, raises her seat, and plays with legos