 Austin |
I never felt tremendously drunk the entire time in Austin, but I think I must have been at least a little bit drunk most of the time, because my memories of the weekend are already vague. At least the memories of the chronological, concrete variety. I know I consumed many margaritas, and maybe the constant slight buzz is making it all a little blurry. 
I know that Melissa and I found each other in the Houston airport Friday morning and talked so constantly and loudly on the plane to Austin that we frightened those around us, and that we arrived at the hotel without another attendee in sight and proceeded to walk around the area, familiarizing ourselves with the restaurants and bars of 6th Street, that we practically got molested on 7th Street, and that she practically force fed me my first Jamba, and that we lay around for a couple of hours watching soap operas ("Is that Grayson McCouch?"), and then all of a sudden, Kate was there, and we went to Schlotsky's to eat sandwiches, and then, it's all starting to blur, and I guess that's because that's when we went to the bar, and Rob and mo pie and Kymm and Elizabeth were there, and I actually sprinted through the lobby to embrace Amy and Erin, and we all ended up hanging out in the swag room, looking at the swag and waving at the webcam and meeting people. And we ate at Iron Cactus, and there was much laughing and drinking and merriment. But I can't give you any specifics. And maybe it's because I'm still just so tired. But I remember that it was very fun. In bed that night, I remember that Melissa and Amy and I had a long conversation about "Little House on the Prairie." Also, the Amish. We felt that the part about the Amish cemented our bond. On Saturday morning, we went back to Jamba Juice, and we went to Erin's panel, during which she made me laugh and made me proud. Lunch was at Hickory Street, and there were more margaritas, and giant salads and chicken-fried steaks.  We took a bus to a strip of shops on South Congress, and I could have shopped in them for about a week. Amy and I went back to the hotel to veg out for a little while and talked about teaching and how it was good but also made us want to kill ourselves. Then we went to an afternoon panel, and then we ate at Roaring Fork, which surprised us by being totally cheap and awesome even though some of our mouths were set afire, and there were more margaritas, and there was pecan pie, and I learned that there are several people in this world who can not only match but outquote my quoting ability when it comes to When Harry Met Sally. And meanwhile, we beat South Carolina. And we went to the Hideout and saw brilliant performances by Ladee Leroy, Kim Holzer, and Omar that practically caused me to piss myself. And then there was karaoke at Crocodile Rocks. And some really weak greyhounds. And some shots. And Elizabeth and I took pictures in the photo booth that never came out. Goodbye, $3. I think I told Allison something akin to that I loved her and that it was my pleasure and honor to meet her, which probably alarmed her, since I had never met her, and who says things like "it is my pleasure and honor," for the Lord Almighty's holy sake?  We walked about 500 miles to the elusive New World Deli that had a 15 minute wait, so we turned around, took a cab, and agreed to order room service. Which was unavailable at 1:30 a.m. so we ended up ordering from Clucker's. Or Plucker's. Or something. And I was so tired that I crawled into bed with a Zone Bar, our trusty bag of Goldfish, and a pixie stick or two, and I tried to converse with my splint in, but it was difficult. I might have passed out with Goldfish in my mouth. I have a few regrets about the weekend, one of which has been agreed to be memory wiped by the other primarily involved party, and another of which is that I was too much of a pansy-assed freak to go around and introduce myself to more people. I'm looking at the list of attendees right now and lamenting that there are literally dozens of them that I did not make an effort to meet, partly because I was just a little chickenshit, and partly because I was so content to giggle with those I already knew. So next year, if there is a next year, up there with my primary goals will be the desire to say hello to more people whether or not I think they will know who in the hell I am. Edited to add: I also somewhat regret that I felt the need to touch my own breasts in so many pictures. And when not content to touch my own, I decided to touch Amy's. What was that I said about not being drunk? 
Edited AGAIN to add: "And the answer to why you are always touching your boobs? It's because you are a great big ho!" -- Kymm Zuckert I wish I had been able to talk for more than five seconds to Shawn or Hannah or Lyn Never, all drop dead beautiful, by the way. And the adorable pixie who is Jette (even though she will probably hate being called a pixie)! I totally hugged her kind of like a madwoman when I first met her, since I feel that she is one of My People. And I talked a little to Chiara and an even littler to Sundry, but not enough to either. And perhaps I frightened the divine, sounds-more-Southern-than-I-do-woo AB with my effusive blather about Everwood in the bathroom. And I congratulated the stylin' and profilin' Beth upon her pregnancy, again with the scaring, I think. And I'm not sure I aptly conveyed to Rob how genuinely touched I was by his words about Schuyler during his panel. (I am listening to Chubbin Songs as I type and it is fantastic.) I met Ava, who sent me that email about my grandmother's ring, and I had to embrace her for it. And I told Gael that she is a real live celebrity in my book, and now she probably thinks I am a real live stalker. I was totally impressed by the swag. Really, if you brought swag, just consider me impressed by it. There are magnets adorning my fridge, cookies and snacks in my belly (I gained five pounds since Friday and I kid you not), bookmarks in my books, and CD mixes in my CD player. You swagging people are generous and geniuses! Speaking of being impressed, the Host Committee? Rocked. You all rock! You covered every possible base, and you made us feel welcome and comfortable and so well taken care of at the Omni that it was practically ridiculous. You guys pulled off an awesome weekend, and we owe so much of our great time to you. So thank you, thank you, a thousand times, thank you!  I'm a little sad that I left without saying goodbye to several people, namely Kymm, who left me a message stating that I must hate her and want her to die, but that could not be farther from the truth. Kymm is a force, and she fills whatever space she is in with laughter and fun and smarts, and I am so glad that I finally met her. And I tremble to imagine that heinosity that might be my chins in the seemingly 1,000 candid pictures she took throughout the weekend.  Erin was brilliant and witty on her panel and so fun and ADORABLE and smart and she offered any help she could provide to my friend who might move to Chicago as her fiancé works for people in high places and I just love her, not to mention that she gave me orange cinammon soap.  And Amy and I were, as she predicted, one. ONE. She has a huge heart, and if only she knew how many people have read and loved her for years. It's not just me! Amy is a rock star who does not know it, but she needs to. I am totally busting up on Chateau Lester, swimming in their pool, squeezing Quinn's cheeks, and making Andy impress me with his knowledge of computerness and pop culture. Maybe the Lesters can adopt me?  And mo pie, what can I even say? mo pie is a FtAM. (Friend to All Mankind.) She is beloved by all for good reason. She taught me the meaning of the word "enervated" and performed a sleepy rendition of "God Loves a Terrier" with me that pretty much became an instant classic. We tried really hard to find an excuse to find the hotel boss and scream, "You STUPID! HOTEL! MANAGER!" but the Omni was so fantastic that we never had that chance.  With Melissa, everything always comes back to Annie. She brought me Broadway and 1980s Days of Our Lives video tapes. I never noticed that her eyes were so green. You might not know this from her lyrical writing, but Melissa is fucking kick me in the pants hilarious and she also brought 19 bras.  I am in awe of Kate's fashion sense. She wears these amazing outfits that somehow coordinate from head to toe and totally make her stand out in a crowd. Her smile is infectious and she is just a unique soul.  Elizabeth is fair and kind and wonderful and precious and also not afraid to meet Booger in the hotel bar, drink eight blue shots in rapid succession, and dance to "Copacabana." I'm going to wrap this up now because it's time for me to take a nap at my desk, but suffice it to say that even though I know I'm leaving lots out, I had fun. I'm so glad I went. 
© Copyright 2003 elb |
The rest of you had better post yours soon if you know what's good for you! Note: I have no idea why I look so orange in some of these pictures. I look like I had been to the tanning bed, even though I had not and haven't done that since the horrid lobster experience of 2001. Who knows? |
