day 5: tuesday.
it's my last day in austin, already. how did that happen? i haven't written enough, i haven't taken enough pictures, i haven't spent enough time with everyone. and now i have to clean and pack and check out of the hotel.

i wander into the convention center in search of bagels, but they're all gone, and i'm bitter.

upstairs, a bunch of webloggers are sitting outside the roundtable room, where the much anticipated weblogs panel will take place. i grumble that i am hungry, and dinah offers me a bagel that she had wrapped in a napkin. i am desperate, so i take it, thanking her profusely, and break it apart and stuff it in my mouth.

i stand at the top of the escalators and see nick and jack coming up. i am holding my breath, because nick is not supposed to be there; he is not registered for the interactive portion of the conference. we smuggle him into the conference room and quietly nod in victory, but he is still nervous that someone is going to come and take him away.

i scan the room and look at all the faces (and the people behind them) i've come to know this weekend. i quickly scribble something into my book so i don't forget to check when the panel is over: "is dinah wearing pajamas with feet?"

she is.

the passion in the room flares: some love weblogs, some hate them, some still don't know what the hell they are. many have opinions, strong ones, and make sure they are heard. others, like me, just sit there and listen. i don't see "to blog or not to blog" as being even an important point of contention. it's just another form of posting thoughts, ideas, commentary and links, and a perfect one for those who are new to the medium or don't have time or the energy to write longer entries. i value long, thoughtful passages; others enjoy quick, punchy statements. i agree with jason: "it's all good."

but maybe i'm just sickeningly optimistic that way.

but maybe not.

still, i think the fact that there was so much emotion in that room was proof that the web truly does touch and move people in deep and powerful ways.

and, i got a blogger t-shirt.

i am not going to leave austin without having some bbq, so i decide to join the crowd at sam's, supposedly the best bbq in town. but it's far, and it's sprinkling. nick's car is parked eight blocks away, so i offer to get a cab and expense it. "thank you, christine's company," everyone says, happily.

i order a quarter chicken smothered in sauce, beans and potato salad. the other table has a plate with stacks of sliced beef, ribs and sausage. i try a piece of sausage and can feel my stomach expanding as it makes its way down my body.

...

nick gets stopped at the bottom of the escalator, because he doesn't have a badge. i am thrown off-guard and decide it's better if i just keep my mouth shut so my foot doesn't get stuck in there.

...

the "building communities" panel is more valuable than i expected, and i am actually taking notes, and for the first time this weekend, i am thinking about how i can bring this back to my company.

not that that stops me from making my usual pointless observations, of course.

karin ends up sitting next to the cutest boy i've seen all weekend ("he was so my type," i tell jack, later on), and they start passing notes back and forth. i am envious.

justin hall is talking about how diverse the gamers.com community is and i think i hear him say: "there's pagans, there's christians, there are philippine people."

i smell bbq sauce the whole time i'm sitting there.

...

it's 3pm and people are meeting briefly and heading off to more panels. i say goodbye to those who are around me, but they are not the ones i'll miss most.

on my way out, i stop outside the conference where nick and jack and robert are, but only jack sees me, and i stick out my tongue at him. he comes outside, and we say goodbye.

...

i have an hour and a half to myself and decide to send a few postcards before i leave town. i finally know my way around town, which is always the way on my last day somewhere new. i am sad, but i know i'll be back next year.

i end up at the coffeehouse on 4th street that maura and i went to a couple nights before. i bring my latté to a table about to be cleared when i hear my name.

"christine!" it's maura. and stefan.

the table i was going to grab has just been snagged, so i ask if i can join them. i hurriedly scribble a handful of postcards and intermittently join their conversation. they ask me if i want to go to the bar down the street, but i don't. i can't, i say, and we say our goodbyes, and i'm really glad i get to say a proper goodbye to them. they leave, and i have a half hour left, alone.

it's weird. the moment they walk away, i have an incredible urge to write. thoughts and memories and ideas, everything is gushing forth all at the same time, and i can't even collect them, i can't even get them down, because i have to meet brenna at the hotel lobby in 10 minutes.

...

on the plane, a lady apologizes to those of us sitting around her -- brenna is diagonally behind her and i am across the aisle from her -- because she has some beef briscuit and she is going to eat it and it will probably smell and she is so sorry but her friend insisted she order it.

when she turns around, she smiles at the guy sitting behind her and tells him how beautiful his eyes are. he is a writer and lives in LA, but he is originally from texas, he tells her in a subtle drawl. i get a glimpse of him; he really does have pretty eyes.

this is my last chance at snagging a texas cowboy, i think, and actually consider striking up a conversation with him just to tell my mom i tried. but not even 10 minutes in the air, and my head is resting against the seat and i am falling asleep.

finally >>