Part of the Journalcon tradition is regretting the people you didn't get to hang out with, but sadly, there is only a finite amount of bonding you can do in 72 hours. It's a lot, but it's finite.

I think I did a pretty decent job of working the room. I talked little bits with lots of people, just enough to tantalize me into loving them. (Even if I didn't talk to you that long, there is a good chance that I love you. I fear that this is how stalkers are born.) Tyger, InvincibleGirl? Love them. Monty, Gael? Love them. TranceJen, Lyn? Love them. Mare, Thea, Shawn, Gwen? Love, love, love them. See how it works?

I spent a lot of time with my roommates: Eliza, Elizabeth, Kymm, Erin, Amy, Kate and Melissa. I will limit my effusive adoration of them to one (fractured) paragraph, although I could seriously go on and on, because they are my Bitchez.

Melissa is more gorgeous than is possible, and I love to listen to her talk. I love the way she speaks as well as the things she says, because her take on things is unique.

Elizabeth is-- okay, I can't say that everyone is so incredibly gorgeous. I have to head this one off at the pass. (They all are, though.) I think of Elizabeth and all I can think is that I couldn't stop hugging her. I want to hug her right now. I love her so much. (And I didn't even see this photo, which is Kymm's, until after I wrote this. Oooh.)

And Eliza! She is so exactly her journal, funny and fun and southern and with the most generosity of spirit.

Kate has the most magnetic energy, and this amazing wry humor. She rocks my world.

Erin is my girlcrush, my evil twin, my hero, the wind beneath my wings. I love her so much that I have censored this sentence, which was too much for even this paragraph to handle.

Amy mourns John Ritter as much as I do, and this is only one of a million reasons to love her.

Kymm is indeed a mighty force, and I won't reveal her secret except to say-- what kind of biscuit again? She took one of my new favorite pictures of me, and several unfortunate fat photos. I love you all, girls. And everyone who was there only in spirit.

On Friday I flew in (with Chauffi on my connecting flight, where we reminisced about yesteryear) and got started right away meeting people, and it's all a blur. I was kind of terrified, but committed to the Journalcon dream, and so I introduced myself to as many random people as possible. I think we went out and had some dinner? We must have. I think we crashed early; I wasn't the only one who had gotten no sleep the night before.

Saturday we did panels and then shopping at these great little antique shops, and then more panels. (I will never forget your exclamation point, Melissa.) At the MATH+1 dinner (which I was invited to even though I am only a lurker at MATH; thank you guys for letting me sit next to Vince Chao) I got rather ridiculously drunk. Not drunk enough to throw my bra at Omar at karaoke, but drunk enough to almost make out with Erin, probably.

Speaking of karaoke, Invincible Girl did the best karaoke number I've ever seen, even edging out Omar's brilliant "Lady" rendition and everything I've ever seen pamie sing. When "baby, get on these nuts" becomes part of a Lionel Ritchie karaoke number, you know you're seeing something special. Every time I go to karaoke I think of pamie's theory that for karaoke to be good, you have to fully commit yourself. There were a lot of fully committed performances that night, and possibly some people who should be committed. Good times.

And oh, I flirted outrageously (yet innocently) with M. Giant, which he was such a good sport about, and I fell mildly in love with him. (Before Journalcon I knew him only as the writer of my favorite "about" blurb ever: "Hi, I'm M. Giant. I'm here because while there's no shortage of people hurling their least significant thoughts and feelings up on the Internet, none of those people are me.")

My god, so many links, and yet so many more people. (I'm going through the attendees list to get all these links, and it's shocking to me how many people I met and talked to and liked that aren't even in this entry. And here I thought I was linking everyone on earth.) There were like 150 people there, y'all. I am leaving 100 people out of this entry and it can't be helped. (Yes, I said y'all. I had a teeny tiny Texas accent by the end of the weekend.)

Speaking of accents, how have I not even mentioned Anna Beth yet? AB is known for being universally adored, and I am proud to say that she sometimes calls me at three in the morning and tries to convince me that I should get drunk. I think we can all agree that in the Happy Meal that is Journalcon, she is the little toy surprise.

Sunday it all ended very abruptly, and I was glad for the Sunday night decompression slumber party with Weetabix and Company. (Weet had the diva room on the Club level, which meant free wine and food and a big comfy lounge.) Weetabix and I spent all night gossiping like mad, which was great because I had missed out on my Weetalove earlier in the weekend, and I needed an infusion of it.

I spent Monday morning going to breakfast with yet more people that I hadn't had enough of a chance to talk to-- especially Beth, who I might have left Journalcon without loving, and that would have been a crime. I was sad that there was no central location anymore, and I couldn't meet up with the journal people who were still in town-- for instance Columbine and Emily were still there somewhere. I had neglected to give anyone my cell phone number.

I absolutely must include a bit about Journalcon itself. My perspective was unique in that I was on the committee last year, so I had a behind-the-scenes sort of eye on the proceedings. I was knocked over by the work these guys did. They had professional and comprehensive programs, a great hospitality suite, a fun webcam and internet hookup, a performance, the traditional karaoke madness, and volunteers available all over the place to make sure people were having fun.

I hope that the next committee really uses these guys as a resource, because the con seemed to be a tremendous success. Of course there were a couple of things people complained about, but as I discovered last year, you can’t please everyone! (See sidebar.) They pleased almost everyone.

Mad props to you guys for such a great job. Next year’s committee is going to have a lot to live up to. (To encourage people who might be thinking of being on a committee, I can tell you that a lot of the Journalcon success comes from the participants, who come prepared to have a great time and squee all over each other. Provide squee-space and a karaoke bar, and you’ll be okay.)

Photo series #1: People Who Appear to Hate Me

Photo Series #2: Portraits

Photo Series #3: People Who Love Me, As Well They Should

Photo Series #4: People I Forgot To Take Pictures Of

There are no photos in this series, because I forgot to take them. I am awesome. Worship me.

And finally, some blind items.

Who needs a gavel with a tiny chair on the end of it? Who did I make the "no tongue" rule with? Who smacked me on the ass after I asked him to keep his hands off my ass? Where is the photograph of my boobs? Who are the "phat phrigid bitchez" and why are they starting a web portal? Who did I hug while wearing only a towel? Who flashed the web cam? Who else flashed the web cam? Which sweet girl put her boobies on the swag? Which Journalcon Superstar snapped up all the boob swag? What's a Moberry, and is it different from a Splashberry? Who's coming to Journalcon next year?

I'll give you the answer to that last one. You are, baby. You are.