For you, the dress code is casual.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

I's so stoopid!

Oh, GOD. This is NOT how a week should end. In twenty minutes, it's noon, and I'm officially declaring a Restart to my day.

I could've fucken SWORN six ways to Sunday that the conference was TWO days. Instead, I must've misread things, and the sign-up on Friday night counted as one of the two days. Instead of finding this out by, oh, conversation or looking shit up, I found it out by fucking GOING to the site it was held at yesterday. I'll spare myself further humiliation by not sharing how long it took to CLUE THE FUCK IN, but suffice to say it wasn't instantaneous.

Sigh. (I am, however, using my recent stupidity and depression as the reason for this oversight, since I haven't really looked much at the barcamp site since then, except to find the addresses Friday. Whups.)

But on the upside I now have a day off, and at least I did sleep in. Now I've bought organic eggs, back bacon, light sourdough rye, and I'll make breakfast. I forgot to buy ketchup, but I'll pick that up later, because I'm now going to make my frickin' awesome BBQ sauce and make myself spicy bbq pork ribs that are slow-cooked and finished on the barbecue for supper. I'd love to have spuds with it, but I think I'll try to be somewhat healthy and have a good salad and some baguette instead. That leaves potatoes available for an all-out brekkie, I guess. Mouahahaha.

Fuck, man. I'm *such* a smart chick, and when I do dumb shit, man, I take the cake. Boy, what a dumb start to my day. At least I turned it around by taking the long, scenic ride home.

In other news, the mirror's completely broken right off on my scooter, thanks to all the rust it'd had, but that's $25 tops to replace. The rest of it is pretty much unscathed, not even scratched. The legshield had a crack along the bottom before this incident, but it's a little more pronounced now. I'd still like to crack open a can of whoopass on the dick who toppled it, but whatever. It could sure as hell be worse. The lights could be broken and the body scratched, and neither of those things happened, so at least it was a "gentle" topple.

Still, a dumb, dumb start to my day. I was born blonde, you know. The business cards I made yesterday have proven to be a waste of my time, but I still need cards anyhow. Now I have some. I think they might be a nice design to keep, too, for self-promoting, but we'll see.

Glad I got a few contacts yesterday. I'd have done things a little differently had I realized it was a one-shot deal, but I can't live in the past, so whatever. Besides, I'm hoping this is the start of the Brave New Networking World of Steff, so I don't want to let myself feel like I've blown my big chance. I just need to keep up the guerilla networking and see where it all takes me.

On the upside, I have some time to script my podcast today and I can probably get a bikeride in at some point, too. For now, some water and some TV while I muster the energy to cook.

(Oh, two things I've read that made me laugh today: One, the sign on Nevermind, a restaurant I consider as a "I may be all grown up but I still need cool digs to hang in!" place to eat, read "Honk if you're illiterate!" And two, I just liked this line in The Corrections: "I love rutabaga!" said Gary inconconceivably.)