Jan
12
January 11, 2007
I’m officially tired and ready to come home. My feet hurt. I’m on my last pair of clean underwear. I feel as though I have been trudging through some endless desert terrain with only a plastic exhibitor badge and a pocket full of business cards to shield me from the hostile elements (ie, the man who yesterday said to me, “Well, most of my design staff are middle-aged women,” then hurriedly followed up with “No offense!”).
Today I saw a young kid, maybe 10, wearing one of those wireless phone headset thingies I hate. The hell? I guess he needed to be ready to take some important calls. He was with his mom, who stood nearby looking very bored as he told us all about how he owns all of Workplace’s products, and was Product X AppleScriptable because he sure hoped so.
Dear 10-year-old Macworld attendee with Bluetooth headset: please go outside and throw some rocks. Alternately, try making a fort out of some sofa cushions.
It sounds like Riley’s doing a little better after another steroid dose today. JB had a rough night yesterday and has decided there’s no way we can drive the boy down to Coos Bay while Riley’s so sick, and thus I have changed my plane reservations yet again to arrive in Seattle rather than Eugene. I’m leaving mid-afternoon tomorrow to get back home and lend a much-needed helping hand.
Meanwhile, I have developed my own cough, a delightful chest-rattling consumptive sort of hack that occasionally overwhelms me right smack in the middle of a conversation and the only thing I can do is wave apologetically as I attempt to dislodge my lungs altogether, possibly by jettisoning them from my sputtering mouth. Oh yes, it’s very attractive.
Also, my feet hurt. Did I mention that yet?
Ceiling at the hotel.
I’m ready to come home, but I will miss the room service dessert options. Can you blame me?
The phone everyone’s in a lather over.
Apple’s big fancy booth.
Another pretty building nearby. San Francisco has a shitload of nice looking buildings.
Jan
10
January 10, 2007
Apparently the steroid medication they gave Riley for his croup is wearing off right on schedule, and JB is doing the hot-shower, cold-air routine with a cranky baby back at home and I officially feel shitty for being gone. I’m worried from afar, which is a helpless, unhappy feeling. Seattle is in the midst of a snowstorm and the roads are nasty, so even if JB felt like doing a quick jaunt to the ER just to be on the safe side it’s not really a great option tonight.
Oh, here’s hoping our boy falls asleep and breathes easy tonight. Maybe if I sit here and power-fret for a few hours I can magic that airway-inflammation out of existence.
Before I got the news about Croup II, Electric Croupaloo, I had a wonderful evening with Lisa, who was kind enough to ferry my ass away from the Moscone for a few hours. We had dinner at a super-tasty Italian place in the Inner Sunset neighborhood (I hope I have that right), and I was thrilled to be 1) in such good company and 2) visiting a part of the city other than the three-block radius around the convention center.
Notable mentions from Macworld today:
• I saw Robin Williams. Like, not the Peachpit author, the guy with the hairy arms who should really stick to comedy instead of playing psychopaths in movies. (Mychal, did you see him too? He had some kind of crazy hat on with sparkles. Also, sunglasses, because OF COURSE.) I was strangely excited by a quasi-celebrity presence and found myself pointing and hopping up and down while saying “Robin Williams! Robin Williams!” like a total goober.
• When the people offering the 10-minute massage services yell out “Chair massage? Anyone want a chair massage?” it’s probably best to curb your desire to yell back, “Does it come with a happy ending?”
• People need to pace themselves on this iPhone craziness. I mean, seriously. Take a baby aspirin and lie down for a while, tech pundits, you’ve got until JUNE.
• I had a cab driver today who started complaining about Macworld in general and went on to berate all the people who had waited in line overnight for the keynote. “All I say,” he said. “Is people need get lives.” I said how I had a couple coworkers who waited in that line and he shook his head in disgust and peered at me in the rearview mirror. “Maybe you should find different job.”
S.F. photos:
And JB’s contribution, so to speak, from Seattle:
(You knew his name wasn’t really JB, right? Also, did you know he had such good…uh, penmanship?)
Cross your fingers with me that Riley is on the mend, will you. I’m feeling so far away, and I miss his little face.
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