in which everyone has a hangover of some kind.
Back when computers only came in manual-shift and we had to get on the Internet via punch cards, I went to the New Orleans Writers's Conference. I went twice, actually. It wasn't a particularly well-run conference, but it was in New Orleans, so who cared? Anyhow, the first night there, the conference hosted a get-together of conference participants at the House of Blues, at which point I met some other people and we ended up going on a bar crawl in New Orleans, including a pilgrimage to Tipitina's. I didn't pay for a drink all night. It was pretty cool.
I was so drunk, though, I slept through my alarm clock the next morning and nearly missed my one-on-one talking to a major agent (who has since died).
(I just remembered that Darin had had to join me a day or so after I went, so I was already with Darin. So this happened in the Nineties.)
It was also at the New Orleans Writers's Conference -- whether that year or the previous one, I can't remember -- that I met up with a tech writer from Microsoft who had actually come to the conference on Microsoft's dime. I thought that was a rather amazing boondoggle if I'd ever heard one. (I might have been able to get away with that in the go-go Eighties at Apple, but not a chance in the belt-tightening days of the early Nineties.) Anyhow, we sat in the hotel bar and drank about 47 margaritas each, all on Uncle Bill's dime.
I also have tales to tell of Apple Developer Conferences I attended before I met Darin, but I don't think Darin would appreciate those much, so I won't.
I've added these personal moments in Drinking History -- err, I mean, Conference History -- to tell you I'm well-acquainted with the sort of devil-may-care behavior that goes on at conferences. So it didn't surprise me in the slightest to hear the people we'd left at the Doubletree bar Saturday night went out drinking and dancing until 3 in the morning. Not the sort of thing I'll be able to do again for a few years at least (and by then I probably won't be able to do it anyhow, although for different reasons), but I didn't feel as though I'd missed out on anything.
The buzzer went off at 7 again, which I thought was hellacious and unfair, particularly as I hadn't set it this time.
Darin looked over at me, grumpy, because Sophia had started kicking whent he alarm went off. "She's up now," he said, clearly silently adding and I am too, dammit.
"She'll go back to sleep," I said, and I started to nurse her.
A few moments later, I realized Darin was sitting up in bed, reading. "What time is it?" I asked, still curled around a sacked-out Pookie.
"Nine," he said.
Crap! Beth and Pamie's session! And I wasn't even hungover!
I jumped out of bed, showered, and got dressed while Darin changed Sophia's diaper and dressed her. I would take Sophia while he packed up our room, and then he would come down to meet us in the conference room.
The best thing about Sophia in the morning is that she is so damn perky, smiling and singing and jumping around. Of course, none of these things is conducive to behaving herself in a conference with a bunch of people sitting around listening to the speakers. So I played Jack-in-the-Box, sitting in the session and bobbling Sophia until she became too much to handle, at which point I would take her out of the room, deal with her, and wait until she was quiet enough for me to go back in and listen to Beth and Pamie.
What this adds up to is: I don't know what Beth and Pamie talked about either. I'm not really the best correspondent for finding out the information content from Journalcon, okay?
I hadn't wanted to put Sophia on the floor to play because the carpet didn't look particularly wholesome, but after an hour or so of BWF (Baby Wrestling Foundation) I finally gave in and put her on the floor. Several people, including Emily and Caoimhe, watched her play. During the weekend several people complimented Sophia on how cute and happy she is, and I have to say, Thank you, she is, isn't she? I think I'm only able to keep this praise in perspective because I suspect I had nothing to do with either trait. I think I just got lucky.
The next session was on on the Writer's Life, by Margaret and John...
One of my tasks was to investigate methods to get to the airport, one of which was evidently a shuttle from the hotel. I decided to go to the lobby via the stairs -- a great luxury when you've had to take the elevators everywhere, because you've got a tot in a stroller -- and ran across a group of journalers hiding out on the stairs and talking. I had a mental image of them with ducktails and leather jackets, smoking. (Despite the fact you can smoke in any number of indoor places in Pittsburgh, they were not, in fact, smoking.) We discussed the conference a little -- I said I'd had way more fun than I expected to, and I was told that my session was the best, which I was flattered to hear. Other panels and panelists were dissed, which is why I'm not putting any names, in case you're wondering.
Of course, I couldn't stay and chat (sigh), so I investigated the whole airport shuttle thing ($11 per person) and then went up to the room to confer with Darin. We decided to take a taxi, which wasn't that much more expensive than $11 a person and we didn't have to share.
We left the Westin around noon without any goodbyes, which was probably bad of me. But typical, to be honest.
The flight back was much like the flight to, except Darin got the aisle seat this time -- our seatmate graciously took the window seat, for which we were very grateful. Darin's legs -- he's six-one -- had cramped up something fierce on the plane ride to Pittsburgh and he wasn't sure he was going to be able to fly back without going insane and bopping someone on the head. Since I was going to be the one in the seat next to him, I was not thrilled with this stress-relief plan.
Across the aisle was a couple with their six-month-old girl riding on their laps. We held up Sophia so she and the other baby could stare at one another. You wouldn't believe how exciting this is for babies, and how much valuable play time this will take up. The other parents kept looking at us strangely every so often, and they finally asked what our baby's name was, and they laughed when we told them.
"Her name's Sophia too!"
Sigh. Sophia really is this year's Madison.
Anyhow, both Darin and I got some reading time in, some baby-play time in, and I know at some point Darin slept.
We got home and settled in, completely exhausted. I didn't even give Sophia a bath, I was so tired. I lay down with her in her room to nurse her and damn near fell asleep, so I told Darin I was going to bed. It was 7:30. He came down and I think we turned off the lights at 8. Sophia didn't wake up until 2:30am, so I had already gotten a good night's sleep in. Everybody went back to bed for a few more hours, though.
I didn't get out of bed until 7:30 this morning. I felt great.
Regrets:
- I didn't get to talk much to people I had corresponded with frequently, such as Patrick. Partially this was my own fault, as I always had people to go places with, whether or not I found other Journalcon participants around. And I wasn't up for late-night drinking and dancing. Next time, however...
- I didn't go to all of the sessions. I would have gotten more out of the con.
Suggestions for Journalcon 2001 (if there is such an animal):
- Hold it in a major city: Chicago, New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco. Pittsburgh was great -- no, really, it was, that was fun to discover -- but it's a bitch, and an expensive bitch at that, to get to.
- If we hold it in Chicago, I will have a full-time Baby Wrangler named "Grandma" to take care of Sophia, freeing me up for karaoke and other hilarity.
- Until Journalcon reaches some kind of critical mass in attendance -- what that figure is, I have no idea -- having just one session at a time is the best solution. 50 people going to one session and 1 to the other would, quite frankly, suck.
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Copyright 2000 Diane Patterson
Send comments and questions to diane@nobody-knows-anything.com