day 4: monday.
i wake up before the alarm, and i'm actually feeling pretty good for 8 in the morning. i'm feeling indulgent, so i turn on both TVs and make a pot of coffee and order room service, just because i can. i giggle and skip around the room. it's stunning outside, and i feel like i am on vacation for the 6 minutes it takes me to walk to the convention center.

...

for the "usercentric design" roundtable, i make sure i am sitting in a chair but this time against the wall.

katherine from milkshake media keeps saying the same thing over and over again: "the answers are there, the answers are always there," which says more than she probably realizes.

"he's cute," a girl says to her friend, about a guy who gets up and leaves during the discussion.

her friend, also male, nods and says knowingly, "he's gay."

...

we rush to find lunch somewhere in town -- 30 minutes and counting -- and end up at paradise on 6th street, the only open bar at this time in the afternoon. i eat half a caesar's salad, and we rush back to the convention center to catch the "interface culture" panel, but the room is overflowing with people and i don't even want to bother. instead, dana and i go with maura to the panel, "it's the internet's fault: blaming the messenger."

i am expecting a thought-provoking discussion about the social and cultural ramifications of the internet, but they are talking about dungeons and dragons, and i am not at all impressed. dana pulls out a notebook and scribbles something on the blank page. she hands the book to me.

"i think this panel stinks," it reads.

"me too," i write, "i am sleepy now." and pass the notebook back to her.

"let's go," she writes.

i nod. we sneak out, and i feel like i'm ditching a pep rally. we sit outside, instead, and i am so glad we do.

"i am not going to look at you."

that's crazy taxi in the distance.

ben's sock being left to dry.

ariana, joe and i decide we've had enough convention for one day, so we go back to this bar pableaux had taken us to on saturday. it has a nice patio with picnic tables. jason and judith follow, and we are enjoying the sunshine. i adore the minneapolis posse. they are so darned nice.

5 o' clock is cocktails with courtney, 7 o' clock is gumbo with pableaux and after that is the chickclick party, we keep repeating the agenda over and over again.

at the four seasons, ariana, joe and i sit at a table scarfing the food and trying to figure out who is courtney and why we are having cocktails with her? ariana decides she is going to go on tour, too: "artichokes with ariana." later i decide i want in on the fun, and i propose "crumpets with christine."

jesse and i grab cokes and eat popcorn. it just doesn't get any classier than that.

...

maura arrives at pableaux's house right when we do, and she has brought nick mirov, who is the last person on my must-meet-before-i-go list. we catch up on over gumbo, rice and beer.

he is kind enough to drive us around town for the rest of the night. we get coffee at the very cool spiderhouse, where bryan and nick make stickers with mailing labels and sharpies and i have one of the best vanilla lattés i've ever tasted. we try to crash the chickclick party but it's pretty much over by the time we arrive, so instead we caravan to ben's house for an impromptu party.

inside, they dance to daft punk. outside, they play crazy taxi projected onto a two-door garage door. everywhere, they drink, and talk, and laugh. i keep saying they, but i am there, too. i just don't feel like i am. it's surreal. but i'm completely sober, and maybe that's why.

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