This isn’t a personal blog, otherwise I would rant. I would probably rant about people who call to see my dream house, the one I have to sell before purchasing something no doubt inferior in regards to the dream domicile’s many charms (but nearer to where my husband the genius artist is now employed). These people do not understand that since I work at home, their call requires that I stop working, gather up my coat, phone, keys, and two recalcitrant beagles that would rather be napping, and haul the whole flying circus down the sidewalk. AFTER racing around the house to be sure I have not done anything terrible like leaving a towel on a towel hook, or a wastebasket full of drafts by my desk. Were this a personal blog, I would certainly rant about the fellow who casually mentions to me, as I am leaving the house, that he has already made an offer on a completely different house, but he was “just really curious” about mine.

This rant would apparently be part of a very long tradition.

Sorry for not ranting about games and community – lately every spare minute has gone into house selling/house hunting/contemplating a gigantic margarita bender.

I just got my speaker evaluations back from AGC. Primarily, I discovered that no one could actually hear any of the four panels I was on. The bulk of the comments were “Door kept opening, very distracting.” (This is not a slam on the commentators, by the way. The way AGC is set up is that there is always one really popular panel every time slot, and everyone who decides not to sit on the floor for the Cool Panel comes in ten minutes late to whatever panel still has seats. And, since only one of my panels was actually in a room larger than your basic public restroom, there was no room in mine either. So the door did indeed keep opening.)

One person wrote: “A women (sic) has to work very harrd (sic) in a mans (sic) world.” The rest of the comment was an invitation for me to act smarter compared to the men. Since this anonymous comment came from someone attending the panel where the august panelists were in a punchy mood, I will take a part of the criticism and bow in silent apology for my part of the shenanigans.

As for the first part of the critique… you have got to be shitting me.

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