It is three a.m. The glass in my hand is empty. I am neither drunk nor awake, sober nor exhausted; merely a place in between that defies explanation. It is three a.m., and the glass in my hand—filled only once—is now empty. I slept somewhere between one and two hours the previous night, and followed it up today by somewhere around sixteen straight hours of work at the convention.I am exhausted; the brutal floating exhaustion that leadens feet, shortens calf muscles, and makes my lower back ache.

Day 1 of dragon*con: lots of running around. At one time in the distant past I was concerned about how I'd find my way around the hotel and all of its different ballrooms. After a day of nonstop trotting, I know the answer: sheer repetition ingrains knowledge in everyone. Including me.

The incredible variances inherent in people never cease to amaze me, and never more so than when I trek to Atlanta. The town itself both compels and repels me: the traffic, the arts scene, the incredible southern acceptance of varied cultures, the horrid traffic, the excellent restaurants and shops, the upper-crust hauteur…and the techops folks.

I have been appropriately kitty-chastised for leaving the house for the weekend.

A rapid-fire, non-stop weekend. The end results: the first Dragon*Con staff meeting is over, we are back in Huntsville, and Sean is now moved out of Atlanta and into his new apartment in Huntsville. Oh, and I socialized with the TechOps crew (the blue-haired folks who make Dragon*Con actually happen), some apple pie was consumed, and it was all good.

It's official—we're going to Dragon*Con 2001. According to Kat and Heather, we will be working as part of the TechOps crew that helps run the Con. Eeep. When I talked to the hotel today, they said they were mostly full. Hard to believe when the Con isn't until Labor Day weekend of 2001, but then again, this is a huge convention.