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  <title>domesticat.net</title>
  <subtitle>Much ado about the usual nothing.</subtitle>
  <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://domesticat.net/2002/09/there-and-back-again"/>
  <link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://domesticat.net/node/665/atom/feed"/>
  <id>http://domesticat.net/node/665/atom/feed</id>
  <updated>2007-10-28T18:49:20+00:00</updated>
  <entry>
    <title>There and back again</title>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://domesticat.net/2002/09/there-and-back-again" />
    <id>http://domesticat.net/2002/09/there-and-back-again</id>
    <published>2002-09-03T14:40:02+00:00</published>
    <updated>2007-10-28T18:49:20+00:00</updated>
    <author>
      <name>domesticat</name>
    </author>
    <category term="dragon*con" />
    <category term="geekfarm" />
    <category term="insanity" />
    <category term="techops" />
    <category term="travel" />
    <category term="trips" />
    <summary type="html"><![CDATA[<p>If I tell you that, right now, I'm sitting at Suzan's computer, nestled into a comfortably cluttered computer room in a small house outside of Atlanta, Georgia, you know where I am.  If I tell you that I'm in my pajamas, with my hair disheveled and eyes still heavily shadowed with dark circles, you know how I look.  If I tell you that my throat is painfully raw, and that most of my muscles are aching, you know how I feel.</p>
    ]]></summary>
    <content type="html"><![CDATA[<p>If I tell you that, right now, I'm sitting at Suzan's computer, nestled into a comfortably cluttered computer room in a small house outside of Atlanta, Georgia, you know where I am.  If I tell you that I'm in my pajamas, with my hair disheveled and eyes still heavily shadowed with dark circles, you know how I look.  If I tell you that my throat is painfully raw, and that most of my muscles are aching, you know how I feel.</p>
<p>But you still don't <em>know</em>.A quick look outside, into the near-forested area of the <acronym title="Brian and Suzan's farm, outside of Atlanta.  If I come visit any more often I'm going to start suspecting that I live here.">Geek Farm</acronym>, shows Bridget and a few of her barn-cat brood stalking something.  When I started writing this entry, they were chasing a small brown rabbit, but the rabbit has since gotten away, and the soft wobble of errant leaves in the breeze currently has them all occupied.</p>
<p>It's impossible to explain how incredibly alien this feels after several days of dragon*con.  I've heard rumors that this year's convention drew nearly 25,000 people, and I have no reason to doubt that number.  For the past few days, 'normal' has been defined by carrying a handheld radio and responding to the following types of conversations:</p>
<p>"Spandex is a privilege!  Not a right!"<br />
"Our next entry in Costume Bingo is&hellip;"<br />
"We need all available staff to the Centennial loading dock to load this band out RIGHT NOW."<br />
"Oh my God, Jefferson Starship wants to invite anyone in a costume onstage to dance while they're performing&hellip;can we get some security back here?"<br />
"She's really going to go out there in orange-colored netting and a chain draped around her waist&hellip;and nothing else?"</p>
<p>Yeah.  Like that.</p>
<p>The part I can't explain is how much tech staff feels like, well, <em>family</em>.  There are members I like, members I absolutely adore, and members I can't stand, but at the end of each day, the world can be divided into <em>us</em> and <em>them</em>.</p>
<p>Details will be coming soon, when I am no longer exhausted and, at last, sitting in front of my own computer again.  For now, let me catch up on a bit of sleep, catch my breath, and re-acclimate myself to the Real World.</p>
<p>Stories will come, soon enough.</p>
    ]]></content>
  </entry>
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