* got up early, bumbled around
* somewhere around one or two in the afternoon i finally ended up with my butt behind a table in the artist's alley
* an hour or so later I had managed to create a slideshow of my art that would function as an attract mode: fade between one image after another, with "egypt urnash/peganthyrus - sketchbooks twenty bucks - prints seven bucks"
* a half hour after that I'd realized "omg no nipples or peenor outside the dealer's room" and dashed through censoring about six our of 112 images
* picked up two sketchbooks and several people saying "yay! you'll be here tomorrow? i'll come by with my book!"
* got tapped by oCeLoT to be her replacement in Iron Artist, as she's decided a five-year run was enough
* failed to uphold her honor when i tried to treat the lite-brite as a device for doing flood fills, not outlines (was I the only person on stage who never hard one as a child, I wonder?)
one sweaty mood crash later, I was convinced I was constantly failing to pass as female, itchy from wearing the same clothes too long (under hot lights!) and basically having a Really Bad Con.
Failing to hook up with a food run and eating scary hotel burger didn't help either, though Tanya and Rachael helped perk me up when they saw me sitting there and sat down to chat for a while.
shower clothes-acquired clothes-changed later and I'm feeling much better. of course, I got reminded I'm in no shape to dance wildly for a while - one and a half minutes at a time is about it for me, especially when I'm still jet-lagged.
I probably ought to just to my scavenged crash space and sleep; tomorrow is Saturday and I'll really need the energy. But what the hell; social weirdness when I'm sleepy has a Certain Something. I'm split.
Also, "I have this weird, itchy rash" is a great thing to say in a crowded elevator. *snigger*
* somewhere around one or two in the afternoon i finally ended up with my butt behind a table in the artist's alley
* an hour or so later I had managed to create a slideshow of my art that would function as an attract mode: fade between one image after another, with "egypt urnash/peganthyrus - sketchbooks twenty bucks - prints seven bucks"
* a half hour after that I'd realized "omg no nipples or peenor outside the dealer's room" and dashed through censoring about six our of 112 images
* picked up two sketchbooks and several people saying "yay! you'll be here tomorrow? i'll come by with my book!"
* got tapped by oCeLoT to be her replacement in Iron Artist, as she's decided a five-year run was enough
* failed to uphold her honor when i tried to treat the lite-brite as a device for doing flood fills, not outlines (was I the only person on stage who never hard one as a child, I wonder?)
one sweaty mood crash later, I was convinced I was constantly failing to pass as female, itchy from wearing the same clothes too long (under hot lights!) and basically having a Really Bad Con.
Failing to hook up with a food run and eating scary hotel burger didn't help either, though Tanya and Rachael helped perk me up when they saw me sitting there and sat down to chat for a while.
shower clothes-acquired clothes-changed later and I'm feeling much better. of course, I got reminded I'm in no shape to dance wildly for a while - one and a half minutes at a time is about it for me, especially when I'm still jet-lagged.
I probably ought to just to my scavenged crash space and sleep; tomorrow is Saturday and I'll really need the energy. But what the hell; social weirdness when I'm sleepy has a Certain Something. I'm split.
Also, "I have this weird, itchy rash" is a great thing to say in a crowded elevator. *snigger*
no subject
Date: 2007-01-20 10:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-01-20 11:25 am (UTC)