Thursday evening I had a couple of hours to kill on my own before hooking up with the rest of the VP5 posse, so I raided the book dealers, thinking I’d drag my loot back to the hotel and not have to worry about it for the rest of the con. Alas, the con had fouled up the wiring to the dealer’s room, and only about three of them were taking credit cards. Upshot: nearly ran out of cash in the first few hours of the con. Argh. But then we all walked over to Downtown Disney for dinner and had a fabulous meal on the House of Blues patio.
Went to half a panel on Friday, the one on slush. Heard some hysterically funny slush submissions that made me laugh until I hurt, but then we were rescued by the Escape Pod crew, who needed help taking party supplies up to the suite.
I spent most of my evenings hanging out at the Podcast Party Suite. It was the place to be — friends on the porch, an open bar, and a kickass DJ. Friday night I lost my voice a little after a few hours playing door whore for the Escape Pod party, then wandered down the hall to the Tor party, where I seriously feared becoming a statistic in one of those “two hundred people die after crowding onto a hotel balcony” newscasts. Not that the balcony seemed in danger of crumbling, but seriously, that many bodies in one suite cannot be good. Well, it was good for the Escape Pod party in that every time Tor shut their doors due to overcrowding, we lured in more wandering partygoers, but it was hard to carry on a conversation over there.
Saturday is kind of a blur. I think I spent a good chunk of it napping in preparation for the parties. No panels. Saw the last half of the Hugos from the very back of the room, including Gropegate. On that, I don’t have much to say that hasn’t already been said. There was a moment of “WTF? Did he just do that?” and then the show went on before anyone could muster a protest. David Levine was adorably excited about his win; he’d dropped by the Escape Pod party the night before (since they ran the winning story, TkÃ¢â