Friday, February 19, 2010

The verb is 'confer,' not 'conference.'

First of all, I must say that I am writing this post at a coffee shop, and that fact almost makes me want to vomit. (sorry, Joanne. I've been drinking tea, I promise.) So hip. So scene. So mod. There are even people staring at me, for blogging in a coffee shop. The switch to a word document has been made.


A week later, I can sit down and finally blog about the SW Texas Pop Culture Conference. A. Week. Later. This past week has been spent in a furious haze of playing catch-up, on everything but sleep, unfortunately. Missing a week of graduate school, it turns out, is kind of a big deal. But the conference itself was well worth it. I dorked out with people who also dork out about the same things I do, and listened to academic papers on Battlestar Galactica or Dr. Horrible’s Sing-along Blog. I went to a panel on Allen Ginsberg, a panel on zombies, a mixed genre reading, a panel on forbidden sexuality (I haven’t heard the term MILF so many times in succession in my life…) and just listened. I am not sure that I learned much, but I listened. And thought. And it was nice.

I met a few people the night after I presented who are graduate students at Sam Houston State, and we stuck together for the most part after that. It was nice to have people to eat with, at the very least, and I think they are really the only reason I ever ventured out of the hotel. I am glad I did, because I ended up really liking Albuquerque. It has this weird southwestern charm, in its sky and its buildings and its mountains and its shops.

A few highlights, in no particular order:

Finding a Greek restaurant that actual Greek people eat at.

Walking in to a magic shop on the chance that it would be like a Goosebumps story, and having the married couple offer to buy us sodas and show us coin and card tricks.

Exploring a Day of the Dead shop, and touching hundreds of small, brightly colored objects made of clay and metal.

Listening to a Japanese man present on the graphic language in Allen Ginsberg’s poetry.

The Alabaman woman who accosted me at the hotel bar, to tell me (for a full twenty minutes) all the flaws and fallacies found within the paper I had presented (she had actually walked OUT during my presentation), and told me all this while I ate my lunch and drank my bloody mary.

The Area Chairwoman for the Myth and Fairytale Panel, who the next day told me that my paper was excellently done, and that I had applied Vladimir Propp’s theories excellently.

The woman who, before the keynote speaker address, recognized me, and complimented me on my paper and my presentation.

Suck it, Freudian scholar from Alabama.

A full, $7, Mexican meal in the Albuquerque airport, better than any Mexican food I have had in months.


Joanne said...

OMG somebody actually walked out on you?!? I didn't realize a pop culture conference could stir up that kind of controversy. I must say, I'm impressed.

Chelsea said...

Wow. That's impressive. And oh my god, I miss Mexican (Southwestern or otherwise) food!!!!