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.

I can finally give you the answer to the question which I'm sure was bothering none of you: "What was Amy's super-secret dragon*con graphic design project that she worked on for all of August?" I held off making these photos available until after dragon*con was in full swing, hoping that no one who was meant to be surprised would be unduly surprised by visiting cat.net.

One-twenty-eight a.m.

It's time.

They call it Hotlanta for a reason: hot, muggy, steam confused and trying to figure out whether it should stream up or down. That's Atlanta on Labor Day weekend.

What an exciting week! Any more excitement and I think I'd have to be flushed and gasping, just to keep appearances up. I have a reputation to uphold, after all.

I'm mostly making good on my promise. Mostly.

The third year will be the charm(s), the boots, the skirt, the shirt; anything but the mundane. "At last," some of my friends will say, one in particular.

I'm not the dressing-up type. Or maybe I'm the perfect dressing-up type. It depends on how you look at it. For the flamboyant, the outgoing, dressing-up is a simple matter of tossing together bits and pieces and letting your personality do the rest.