Conference coping strategies, day 1.

When you enter the Convention Center, and find your little lanyard for the name badge you have brought with you from home, because they mailed it to you, and insert the badge into the lanyard, and put it around your neck so that you are named and institutioned for all the Convention goers to see,

if you turn and see the people milling, the people who seem to have  a purpose and a reason to be there, and you say to yourself, well, how did I get here?

then you should follow these rules:

• It's okay if you just want to sit near the back and if you just want to listen and not ask questions. It's okay if the tap tap tap of your iPad keyboard is rather constant. One reason you're there: to get ideas. It's just fine if that's what you do.
• Does the hobnobbing and social buffeting put you right off? That's all right. There is no hobnob requirement. Steer clear.
• Go ahead, take the ten minutes and eat your breakfast outside. So what if you're ten minutes late. Eat already.
• Do you need to go lie down to gather your wits? Lie down. Gather them. Put that little Do Not Disturb sign on the door.
• Do you feel like you might be a hermit? Or that you might be getting in touch with your inner hermit? No problem. Order in and opt out. 

The people, I went to four really interesting sessions today, and my presentation is 90% in order, and I also ate in and worked out. Me and the conference have reached an agreement and I am ready--well 90% ready--for tomorrow.

Qu'est-ce que c'est, "super"?

Ah yes, the Super Bowl:  the moment in the sporting year when football concludes and we can all heave a sigh of relief.  That is what it means, right?  

Okay, I watched the last maybe five minutes (game minutes--we all know that game minutes are infinitely expandable, so those five lasted, what, an hour? an hour and a half?), and that was exciting, all the touchdownery and awesome receiving and sharp passing and whatnot.  In fact, if I could watch about ten minutes of action-packed football--what I believe is called "the highlight reel"--I might love football.  I used to think I didn't like football because I didn't understand it.  I have made an effort to understand it better, with the result that I still don't like it very much, so I guess it's because all that strategery (technical term) and marching up the field and lateralizing and all the lines--it just doesn't lift my heart and make it sing.  I will be happy to concede this is something wrong with me and nothing wrong with the game.  But my heart doth beat a little faster, now that football season is over for a good long while, and baseball doesn't get going for several weeks and so there is basketball:  beautiful, soaring basketball, which is currently a little hard to watch because of the horrible injury crisis plaguing the Utah Jazz.

Cooking news:  I had the splendid idea of making popovers this morning but the not-fully-splendid idea of putting them in the oven before the oven had fully preheated.  Alert: popovers require a fully preheated oven in order to pop, as it were.  I blame it on my not-fully-awake status.  Thus, our popovers were dense rather than airy, edible but not inspiring, a little bit sad, a little bit disappointing, and yet, still breakfast, so we ate them like the hungry people we were,  and are.