I had two panels, the first of which was awesome and the second which was not bad. Emma Bull thinks I am funny. Or perhaps a smartass. That is a fair assessment. I saw blackholly! And introduced two of my friends to Scott Westerfeld! And, and, and. The Gathering was loads of fun but I was so tired--after I delivered my white t-shirt to have an iron-on applied, I wandered and chatted and called coffeeandink Master and eventually plopped down in a chair beside heresluck and watched her knit. Why, oh why, can I not have a pocket dimension to sleep in at cons?
I gave my reading, then left after the second reader in the group, so they wouldn't be disturbed by my loud snores, even though I really did want to hear them. On the way back to my room, I poked my head into the largest room, out of which noise was pouring. I went in. I have now seen (and heard) karaoke. I think I understand why people enjoy it, but I also think it is probably Not for Me. Jim Minz offered to buy me drinks until it was for me, but I declined. I was too tired to dance, or to stay for long. I took off after a couple of songs, so didn't get to hear robgates's surely sterling performance.
And now it is 6:25 am, and I am awake, hair damp, waiting for the hotel restaurant to open. I am hoping to meet oyceter and heresluck around seven for a trip to the farmer's market. I told natlyn this before I left the room, and she asked me to make sure and bring back enough farmers for everyone.