Batch

09-21-2012 -- Am at the FCM convention with Dale, and we have arrived just in time for dinner. We've walked into the dining room, where everybody is sitting around, eating and talking. Except somehow we're not talking aloud, but in a number of different chats that are floating in the air in front of us. it is very difficult telling one chat from the other and keeping everything in the right place. Very much like the Runescape chats at times.

Dale is trying to jump start my computer for me, but he only has the red cable, and no black cable for the ground, and I'm worried he'll hurt himself, or my computer. I find myself chatting with a really, really experienced player who seems to be taking a bath. I brush against the bath curtain before I realize this is very creepy and wrong, and rush away before he figures out who it was. Weird!

I'm back in line in the cafeteria, and now they are in the middle of closing up, and taking away all the desserts. But that's OK, since I only wanted to grab another glass of milk, anyway. I move on to the auditorium, where I learn that we already missed the business meeting. They also tell me they overbooked the convention, and have no more program guides showing what classes will be where. I think they are joking however, as Joe White is sorting through a stack of them. He gives me one and I ask for a second one for Dale.

Joe tells me he will be giving the first class, and Don Caldwell and Gilbert Adams are arguing loudly about which one of them will be giving a private lecture on Sunday (more a Twist and Shout thing than an FCM thing) and are pranking each other with balloon gags. I'm just glancing around at a few of the balloon sculptures from the jam room.