Aug. 3rd, 2009


Aug. 3rd, 2009 12:41 am
fictional: (wine)
Minneapolis is a city on the second floor, and its labyrinthine-ness means that directions have three dimensions. (Remember, the enemy's gate is down, I kept thinking.)

Cut for some pictures )

Anyway, I am home now. I have stuff to say about the con as a whole, but I think that must wait till I have a) some sleep, and b) some perspective.

There was some *fail of various kinds, and I'm writing this down here, because I have to write about it, and I want to not be a victim of my own cowardice and, you know, speak about/interrogate how I feel. So, f-list, if I don't do that by tomorrow night, please nudge me. I really want to do this, and I think it's important that I do. But... I'm giving myself a day to compost first.

Plus, I think I'm still hungover.

Met lots of great folk! Hung out with awesome people I already knew. Got a lapdance (???).1 Drank way too many martinis. (See above re: hangover.) [ profile] invisible_lift, [ profile] rm, [ profile] miep and I wrote fic! Post-it Fic! That I love with an inordinate passion, perhaps disproportionate to its, er... significance. But so it goes. Hopefully there will be posting (of the post-its? Hah.) soon.

So, more soon. I promise. (Hold me to it, okay?)

1They said it was burlesque. It was not burlesque. On the other hand, she had nerd glasses and purred in my ear? And rubbed noses? What, as they say, the fuck?


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