In a shocking turn of events, and by that I mean totally not shocking at all, I turned into a total pantywaist at SXSW and passed up the chance to meet about 50 bajillion new people. Ya, I met some people, but didn't get my rock out with complete strangers all day long or anything. And now I feel like an ass. Which is totally not different than any other day.
In related news, blogging is the new breathing. I swear to god, iBooks must be powered by embryonic fluid because they were everywhere and connected to their owners. I am totally victim of this as well, but just because there was no wifi in the Four Seasons guest rooms. 4 stars my ass.
Anyway, blogging has started this whole new form of vanity and pseudo-rockstardom. I can't even count the times I heard a panelist say "Is someone live-blogging this right now?". If I counted it on my fingers, I would have 50 thousand arms. It just seemed so oddly pompous. Maybe I am just being a snot.
So I am all cranky, and still sick. My calves hurt from walking all over the world in heels, my ears still haven't unpopped, and I left my favorite curling iron at the hotel.
no WiFi? Even McDonalds has WiFi. You should demand you money back right this second!
Ya, I know. Although, to be fair, they did have wifi in the lobby. but that is 4 flights my lazy ass can't hang with. I want wifi from bed, or no wifi at all.
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