From Sock Summit: Early Thursday Musings

I think I’m too excited to sleep. Just like a kid on Christmas morning, eh? Which is silly, because I’ve been to a zillion conferences…but never as a STUDENT. I know that sounds weird and all, but this is the first yarn-y type conference I’ve been to where I get to play and take classes and not have to work.

I feel a bit wicked, as though someone might catch me and say, Wait a minute, you’re not working. Get Thee To A Demo Booth and teach something, or whatever.

giggle

I shall just let myself be wicked and enjoy it. (So there.)

The Trip So Far:

1. I have no photographs yet. I know. What have I been DOING, you ask. Just wait. Gets worse.

2. Left the house at just past 4 AM EST Wednesday. Went to bed just past midnight PST Thursday AM, which is 3 AM PST. Math results: Good gracious, Miss Gracie, I was up for almost 24 hours straight. No wonder I’m a big more than just jet-lagged today! (That’s not the “Gets Worse” part. Keep going.)

3. All flights were pleasant, on-time, and relatively non-stressful, as far as it can be non-stressful to travel in a Pringles potato chip tube crammed full of one’s fellow humans. Seat-mate on last leg of trip tried to pick me up, and was very charming about it; however, continued to charmingly try to pick me up past mentions of Husband and hints of Children (he had no idea “the kids’ I was referring to have four paws and meow for their supper, but it was just a little white lie, really it was).

4. Pick-up continued into the “let me show you what I bought myself for my birthday” stage (on his part, I was at the silently nodding and knitting stage). What he had bought himself for his birthday was a red sports car. The birthday was his 50th. As my southern mother-in-law taught me to say at times like these: Bless his heart.

5. Arrived early in Portland, and found that “early” meant 10:30 AM local time. I travelled for 9 hours and it’s only 10:30 AM? Time zones: Weird.

6. Checked into my hotel. Met nice knitters in the lobby who were checking out after just one night and moving across the street. Bad Sign. Went upstairs to my room, noticing elevator and hallways that were a bit icky. Opened door to room, stepped inside, put down luggage, Turned around, got a good look (and a good whiff), went straight to Yellow Pages and found another hotel. Half hour later: New hotel, new room, all better. (The first place was a pit. Scary, smelly, dirty. Too adventurous for my tastes.)

7. You’ve been good to read this far without any photos so here’s your reward: I saw Barbara Walker checking into my new hotel at the same time as I was checking in. BARBARA WALKER SIGHTING! She’s adorable–a tiny delicate, beautiful lady. AND I DID NOT HAVE MY CAMERA. But even if I did, I wouldn’t have snapped a shot, because that would have been Uber Extreme Tackiness. (Good for my karma. Bad for my blog.)

8. Other Sightings: Stephanie (glassy-eyed with exhaustion, but still her witty charming self); Abby (long hug); Denny (she promised to try and find a naughty chair for me for the spinning class on Sunday); Rachel (mutual kisses blown back and forth, she’s got a freakin’ HEADSET of Power now); Tina; Ann Budd and papertigerknits (what happens in Burgerville, stays in Burgerville); fibergal (separated at birth, I’m tellin’ ya); Cookie A (best blue hair streak ever); Anne Hanson; Little Mousling (OK, that one’s not hard, she’s my roomie, but still); Janel Laidman; Cat Bordhi (best hug of the day); and a whole rockin’ skein full of sock knitters whose names I can’t recall right now at 7 AM PST. (I know I ought to link all the above folks. I’ll do it later, promise. Must shower and find coffee soon.)

I have killer jet lag, a whoppin’ sinus headache, I’ve had about six hours of sleep, and I don’t give a whup. My spinning equipment is ready to go for today’s class: The Gentle Art of Spinning Socks with Judith MacKenzie McCuin…and I am STOKED and ready to rock and roll.

Since I don’t have any photos (yet), I leave you with this shot of Tim the Kitten, who does not yet understand the meaning of suitcases and thus has a rather puzzled expression on his face:

The other two cats and the dog and the husband, of course, ALL know what  The Suitcases meant, and there were pouts and whimpers all ’round.

Time for shower and coffee and breakfast…and then it’s time for CLASS!