I was bound to blog at some point during my trip to Romanticon. I just didn’t think it’d be at 5 friggin’ thirty on Sunday morning after I partied hard all night. Warning: This blog post may contain illogical thought patterns and incorrect grammar, but my feet hurt and it’s my blog anyway and I can do whatever I want.
So…I’ve turned myself into the biggest liar ever. I came into this convention telling everyone “I don’t dance”…”Do you want to see an entire dance floor taken out?” and things like that, but I’ve apparently been taken over by someone who thinks they actually have rhythm. Yes. Are you freaking out? Because I was.
Thursday night was pretty sedate in my mind. There was some booty-bumping going on of which I may have been a part of. May have. Friday night, however…Oh, Friday showed me a new side of myself. I’ve talked before about how Danica isn’t the same person who goes home to my family. Danica is the wild, socializing party girl who can talk to a wall if she has to. And that crazy woman was in full force the rest of the party.
I don’t have cables to post pictures yet, but uh if you’re easily offended, do not visit the rest of this week which is going to be Romanticon in review. Let me just say that I have had the most fun ever at a conference. I’ve attacked (in a good way), the art director at least three times and thanked her profusely for my covers. No, I wasn’t drunk when I did it. It’s been one hell of a time and I can’t wait to do it again next year.
Even though it might take that long to get my money-maker workin’ again. Cause yeah, I think I broke it at some point.