Just a note to mention that I'm not dead. I'm in the middle of a massive set of dragon*con-related projects, and right now I have nothing funny or insightful to say about them, or pretty much anything about my life in general.

When I come up for air, posting will resume.

I knew I'd officially been gone from home too long when this conversation transpired:

Amy: [snip] costume research while chicken cooks. hi.

Brian: hi

Brian: I am also cooking chicken

Amy: the stuff you had in the fridge?

Brian: yep

From an email I sent to Val today:

I'm really struggling with the weightlifting, and something just doesn't seem right. I've had to lay off lifting a bit this month because of Atlanta trips, but I'm getting exhausted during weightlifting sessions and it's not the kind that I get a second wind and bounce back from. Something's not right, and I don't know what.

There was more said than that, but it's unimportant. Val's response was unequivocal:

I loathe resorting to this, guys, but it's time. 'cat.net isn't on hiatus; it's just going to be quiet for the next week or so. I'm going to be in Atlanta for an extended period of time, DCTV and general techops stuff both need my attention, and my workouts are still eating up as much time as they usually do.I'll try to post something when I have a little time, and something interesting to say, but right now I have neither, and I'd rather not pretend otherwise.

White is not a color for dragon*con. Black is a far better choice. A black shirt soaked through with sweat doesn't turn transparent, and the dirt, grime, and grease of equipment never shows up against it. There's an art to staying clean, dry, and daisy-fresh at 'con when you're a tech staffer.

I haven't mastered it yet, but part of it appears to hinge on changing shirts a lot.

My name is Amy, and I am a tech staffer at dragon*con.

You don't know me, and you don't see me at dragon*con room parties. The only time you might see me at dragon*con is while I'm running equipment from room to room, or while I'm standing backstage to help load out a band's equipment. Even then, I am faceless; a woman in a plain shirt and jeans, with a radio clamped to my head and equipment in my hand.