Time and perfect points are an illusion.

Getting ready for Market is always an education in how different people plan stuff. Some people like to schedule their every move, knowing well in advance exactly where they will be and at what time. Others are all, "You want to meet me at one o'clock? Well, really, what is time, anyway? Isn't it just another word for 'prison'? Let's just let the Market winds blow and our paths will surely cross at the right moment. Also, I can't find my phone."

I like to think that I am somewhere in the middle on this particular spectrum. I definitely like to know the procedures of things: "First you go to the red counter, then you ask for Julio. If Julio isn't there, ask for Wendy, but if Wendy isn't there, you need to throw a large hissy fit until Monique shows up. Then you show your ID and slip Julio, Wendy, or Monique a twenty and a case of scotch, after which you will be able to access the bathroom." But usually the instructions are more like, "Just go in the door marked 'Women' and do your business. What the hell is wrong with you?" THERE'S ALWAYS MORE TO IT THAN THAT AND YOU KNOW IT. But I do try to be easy going when I can, and not be a burden on others too much. Like, I always hold the door open when I make other people carry my stuff.

This Market is special because I am sharing a hotel room with my friend Sam. She has become a very dear friend and though we've met in person once, at another Market, this will be the first time we have been able to spend some real time together. Even if my book ends up being burned in a ritual bonfire behind the convention center at the end of the show, the trip will be worth it just to have spent some quality time with her.

And there's lots of other people to see—some I hope to meet for the first time, some I hope to spend a little more time with than I usually get to. Some just to see if all the rumors I hear about them are true. I hope to put my book into some hands, and get my hands on some fabric. I hope to shed my neurotic fear (or at least choke it down) of looking like a cow in photographs and actually take pics with people. Just so you know, if I do take those pics and I post them somewhere - it is not an illusion. I do indeed have a gigantic head.

I will do my best to post stuff on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/quiltingisntfunny) and Instagram (@meganzdougherty) every evening when I get back to my hotel room. If you are going to Market, you can stop by the GenQ booth (#1655 - near the bathrooms; ask for Julio) on Saturday afternoon (One-ish. What IS time, anyway?) and say hello and even get a book signed if you are so inclined. I'm staying at the Omni, so you can also stalk me in the bar, where I will surely be found drunkenly pontificating on the nature of time and space and quilting and stuff.