WFC 2012: Day 0

Today, the majority of what I have to talk about is traveling and logistics, not writerly concerns, so feel free to skip ahead (when there's actually something to skip to).  I hope to entertain some of you with my haplessness, though.

Left earlier than I needed to today for the airport and had my bag checked by a butterfly. Oh, Halloween.  Spent a lot of time wandering around the concourse, just keeping myself in motion, which after the cumulative walking of the day ended up turning into a blister.  Really, I need to learn how to hold still.  I also bought lens cleaner - you know, for glasses? - for my laptop screen.  Because wow, really?

I had not just one but two heart attacks before boarding today.  First, I was called up for a passport check, which turned out to be routine.  Second, the woman scanned my boarding pass, I was halfway to the walkway, and then she said, "Wait a minute, miss .." asked me what seat I was in, and commenced serious-looking computer manipulation.  Net result:  I ended up with a seat closer to the front of the plane.  (Window, of course:  I love the ability to look out, even when it's cloudy.)

I spent an inordinate amount of time on the flight trying to come up with a name for Kit's future boyfriend.  Nothing seems to mesh ... and then as I'm sitting here, I suddenly realize that Alistair (or some spelling variant) would be perfect.  Thank you, brain.

Next up, made an utter idiot of myself at customs.  Asked the first agent if I had to pay any duties on the books; he assured me it would be handled further down the line.  The second agent said no ... and then I wondered if I'd heard his condition right, so I ran back and asked again.  Got a full explanation.  Sure he thought I was nuts.

Toronto was as drear and rainy as Ohio.  It was a longish (and expensive - oww) drive to the hotel, and unsurprisingly, the conference setup is in early phases, so I decamped to the attached food court for Thai food, then back to Starbucks for a ginger cookie and what is going to have to pass for breakfast.  (No, not another cookie.  Stop looking at me like that.)

(If I wrote with half as many parantheses as when I'm just casually writing, I would be edited to death.)

Looking forward to tomorrow!