In some strange, bizarre way, I actually like driving on the freeways of Atlanta. Spaghetti Junction. The Vehicle Accelerator. The Watermelon 400. I can now officially say that I've done 'em all.

But you know what I hate? Being a passenger on the streets of Atlanta. Don't ask. I don't get it either. I can fire the Jetta up to 90mph on the Vehicle Accelerator (otherwise known as 285) with nothing but a lead foot and a twinkle in my eye, but put me in the back seat while someone else drives my car at 80mph on 285, and all but the most callous of observers will note that I'm clutching my seatbelt and wishing I were a follower of some sort of religion that would give me something calming and soothing to chant as I watch the SUVs stream by both sides of the car.Mind you that, at this particular moment, Brian and Suzan were blithely leading us down conversation trails that circled around the themes of death and dismemberment. Meanwhile, I'm sitting in my so-new-it-still-smells-new Jetta, forcing myself to stare squarely at the back of my husband's head. Knowing full well that if I don't stare straight ahead, I'll give in to the temptation to crane my head around to find out exactly how fast we're going. Mostly so I can get an idea of just how fast that speeding Mercedes was going….

I actually begged Brian and Suzan to change the topic. There was just some kind of bad synchronicity between spoken tales of death and dismemberment…and not having control of my own car as it went in a controlled-speeding fashion down the vehicular equivalent of a particle accelerator known as 285.

All this for a dragon*con meeting. A meeting in which I know good and well I'm not going to hear anything new. I've got the routine pretty pat now. We come in, sit down, pretend that we can hear what the director is saying, then do our standard fratboy cheers whenever tech staff is introduced.

(Required comment: "We make the con run….scared!")

Then, at least once, Jody has to tell the story of the guest he nearly strangled a few years ago, and recount how back in the bad old days he had to take something like five times the LD50 dosage of Metabolift so that he could avoid sleeping for something like 70 hours…and then someone pipes up with a story about how ChocoBunny came to dragon*con last year wearing a hot pink mohawk and a pair of bunny ears….

…and then the meeting's over, we've all established that yeah, we're still tech staff, and then we wander to the back and grab a few spare Cokes for that night's mixers and then amble off to dinner.

Most sane people would look at 285 and the dragon*con tech staff, and decide that they'd be much better off cultivating a healthy fear of the blue-haired, sleep-deprived, and generally terrifying tech staff. Me, I know better. I'm keeping my fear where it belongs—with the crazy-ass drivers on 285. I'll put my trust in the likes of Papa Smurf and Oompa Loompa.

Even though I still refuse to dye my hair blue for the convention.