The Empire State Building! The Subway! Steaming Manholes!

World Fantasy Con happened. It wasn't the greatest venue, but none the less I had myself a gay old time and will do it again. And again and again and again. Collect some fabulous new people and stalked some fabulous old friends and yes. I feel warm and fuzzy and that the world is full of fun.

Talk shop? What? At a publishing con? Pfffft.

• San Diego in autumnal garb is ridiculously delicious. Warm sun, unblemished blue skies, and did you know they have an Ozone Layer here? Not a hole? THE SKY DOES NOT BURN YOU.
• Desert nights are, however, intense. That cold comes on like a sleazebag.
• There was a painting of a little girl in a blue dress in our room. She was fucking creepy. She was also apparently in every room. All the rooms. Ever. Except for two. Bulk discount on weird arse interior decorating?
• Did not buy a single thing in the dealer's room. This is heartbreaking, and quite impressive.
• Swimming!
• Apparently when I snore I sound like I am a mongoose being strangled.
• I also sound like a horny zombie.
• And growl if you attempt to wake me.
• I will not comment on the sleeping patterns of my companions as I am a gentleman.
• The trolley in San Diego is the lovechild of both a tram and a train.
• Mexican food, even at its worst, is unbelievably good in San Diego.
• Even if it is free, I will screw my nose up in disgust at the beer and not drink it.
• No wine for Sir Tessa not ever never again for all time forever.
• Bringing out the left over book bags for distribution is like watching sharks in a feeding frenzy.
• I did not play Twister while drunk.
• I did get a blue tongue though.
• And hit on an awful lot of pretty people.
• And stole chocolates and decals from the banquet once the diners had left their tables.
• I did that sober, actually.

The day after the con, we went to the San Diego Zoo.

!!!!!

Which deserves its own post.

The next day we flew in to JFK Airport, and I am sitting in a skinny apartment in Brooklyn. Yesterday I did things like take the subway across to Manhattan, see and squeal over the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings, be overcome with grief when realising we could not see all of the Metropolitan Museum of the Art in one day (but nonetheless being incredibly immature in the Roman section, see twitter for evidence), went out for a magnificent steak dinner with a slab of Little, Brown, and then on to karaoke which was EPIC and FABULOUS, and then delivered safely home.

At some point in all that, my comrade turned to me and exclaimed, "Tessa! We're in New York! When did that happen?"