Alive And Well In Atlanta

The problem with blogging from National is that, um, there’s precious little time to do it and ...well, let’s be honest, after a few adult beverages with writing buddies you haven’t seen in awhile, the subjects, the verbs, the adjectives...they all start to run together, if ya know what I mean.

So bear (bare?) with me...it’s after midnight Atlanta time and I just finished my last Black Russian (the drink, not the guy) and I really need to make up for the sleepless night I had last night.

Which, in part, stems from my fear of setting the alarm wrong. And guess what. I set the alarm wrong. PM...AM...turns out the distinction is important. As in, DO NOT set the alarm for 4 P.M. when you want 4 A.M. Whatever. I made it out of the house on time (5 in the morning). Thank God I sleep with one eye on the clock (and, in this case, I mean literally since I have one of those clocks that beam the time up to the ceiling with eerie red digits). Anyway, after one other small glitch where the first ATM I stopped at refused to give me money, I made it to the airport without too much trouble.

I flew out of Burbank (the no muss, no fuss L.A. airport) and used my frequent flyer miles on American to go first class. Not that I’m a snob, mind you, but if ya got ‘em, might as well use ‘em. God knows, no one in their right mind should ever PAY for first class, especially domestic. I mean, I didn’t even get the warm cashews this trip! Sacre bleu! I LIVE for the warm cashews! (Okay, I admit it. I wasn’t going to eat them anyway since they’re not Jenny-approved.) Oh, and please note, I turned down the omelet and/or pancakes for fruit only—now, is that dedication, or WHAT?

Arrived in Atlanta and met up with Brooke (San Diego) and Elizabeth (Phoenix). Grabbed a cab, got to the hotel, and started getting that RWA “vibe” as we checked in. After 4 years of going to these things, you start to recognize old faces, even if you’ve never spoken to them.

Things are just getting under way here, so we left the premises and walked a couple blocks to a Mexican restaurant. Let’s just say they do Mexican a little differently in Atlanta and leave it at that. Then, just outside the restaurant, we stopped to browse a public map but got accosted by a very articulate, fast-talking “homeless” person who practically followed us all the way back to the hotel. Wazzup with that Atlanta, huh? Hell, I thought I was back in Los Angeles, for God’s sake.

So, although it’s only 8:47 my time, I’m on fumes for brains so this is it for tonight’s report. Funny, ‘cuz I took NOTES in a regular NOTEBOOK on things to blog about which seemed so FASCINATING when I wrote them down, but that I now see would take too much time (and additional brain cells) to convey...so we’ll leave them for a thoughtful end o’ the conference recap later.

Now...I’m off to sneak a cigarette in the bathtub of my nonsmoking room. Sorry.