TequilaCon, come and gone. After a year of penpalmanship with Jill we finally met... and at last Jenny, who sent me a getwellsoon card of her very own art with a selection of Family Circle clippings in a care package last spring when I broke my wrist (awesome!). I was sorta stunned by the dimensionality of these girls and how they carved out space as they live and breathe. All these bloggers, live. A-live.
Guardian Angel Personal Alcohol Test
I've withdrawn from this blog relationship somewhat, feel quizzical, it evolving of its own accord along this trajectory until one day I'm drinking single malt scotch in a hotel room at the Kennedy School wearing a fancy lanyard and forgetting to introduce myself as Asia.
The whole affair was better then great but terribly short and had the disconcerting tendency to shift fluidly from place to place so I hardly met anyone it seemed. Jenny and I slipped into the Adult Prom and stole an ABBA dance. I roamed the halls and the bars and the hotel rooms and ate peanut butter and jelly, drifted in and out of assemblings of bloggers.
Baby bloggers: Sibyl, Dustin and Vahid
Brandon and Jill and I stayed up till almost dawn. I don't surely know, those heavy school curtains... but at least long after the halls were deserted and echoey.
In the morning the four of us, Jenny, Jill, Brandon and I went out for breakfast later joined by Shari, where we toasted TequilaCon '07 and declared it a smashing success.
Late in the evening my shoulder started aching like all the other times, like the first time when I lost some sensation in my thumb. And the next time when I couldn't sleep for a month. Tonight I made a cup of valarian tea with ten tea bags and let it steep until it was black and silty and pure bitter. It was a little over the top maybe and did nothing but ruin my posture. You should see me, I am all slumpy and relaxed but for that rhomboid. Ouch.
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