Roberson's Interminable Ramble

I'm home. Got in late last night after many, many hours spent in the Orange County airport yesterday (alternatively Santa Ana and John Wayne Airport, too, confusingly). Tried to read, gave up, and ended up staring into the middle distance for about ten hours, trying not to drool on myself. Which, in the final analysis, indicates I had a pretty good convention. But as I told anyone who asked in the final hours of the dead dog on Sunday night, I've come to the realization that All Cons Are One Con, and that I really can't even distinguish one from another. The cast of players changes slightly, from show to show, but the same conversations just roll on and on. Looking forward to the next iteration at World Fantasy Convention in Austin already.

Oh, and if you're like me and check out the blogs of people you've been hanging out with at conventions, hoping to see if you rate a mention in their convention posts or wrapups, then this is my special message for you: "Drinking/talking/eating/arguing with you was the highlight of the convention." And it was, too.

Special congratulations to John Scalzi on his Campbell win. In particular because I had money riding on him to win, and ended the evening with ten bucks of Garth Nix's money in my pocket.

Now I'm off to the grocery store, as the cupboards are bare, and I'm eager to eat something that isn't the Oasis Burger at the Hilton bar. Nine of them at nine meals in a row was just dandy, but I need a little variety in my diet.