*I successfully hailed my first cab (because no, last year when I just waved at and hopped in the first cab that didn't have people and the driver took pity on me and drove me uptown even though he was off-duty does not count.)
*I got freaked out by the uber-industrialness of Javits Center 5 minutes after I arrived. Helloooooo... hellooooo...helloooo... Do they build ships in this place when they're not having conferences?
*50% of my makeup sweated off in 10 minutes.
*A kajillion awesome people came down meet the Apocalypsies in the sweltering Javits dungeons (and the rest of my makeup sweated off.) Note: if you have an extremely unflattering sweaty picture of me, feel free to Photoshop :D
*Gretchen McNeil gave me hair-styling tips. Must. Get. Diffuser.
*I met a TON of awesome people--readers, writers, bloggers--and got to see my fabulous Penguin editrix again.
*I got to be a part of Teen Author Carnival and be on a panel with Barry-freaking-Lyga! (You must go buy I Hunt Killers NOW.)
*I worried that every other writer I met was funnier than me and more creative and extroverted and talented and totally had their shite together in a way that I absolutely never would.
*I decided that even if the above was true (and it's probably not), being the least funny, least creative, least extroverted (that part might be true), least talented, and least likely to ever have my shite together published author was kind of like being the lowest scoring member of an Olympic team--in short, still pretty freaking great.
I know I'm lucky to live this life.
Good night, New York.