at one point, i'm actually being halfway coherent, trying to explain to Miss SF Chronicle how i discovered the web, got the i-could-do-that bug, learned HTML and started Blah on free webspace. i am telling her how anybody could do it and how thousands of people do, when i get interrupted by Mr. Dot Com.

"see this is exactly why we sponsored this event, blah blah PR shpiel blah..." he says, jumping in front of me, handing her his business card. i gladly back away.

i am standing in front of the last camera when ev comes up.

"are you nervous?" he asks.

"now i am, yeah."



we get inside. on are seats are silver lunchpails filled with shwag, the coolest being a watch from fly swat, a website i've never gone to. in front of us is a team of people dressed in fashion from decades gone by. behind us are the guys who run protest.net. they're wearing gask masks. across the aisle is web development team kottke: jason, meg, matt and betty ray.

the ceremony zips by, thank god. it's not even two hours. the emcee, alan cummings, is pretty funny; mahir makes an appearance and blows us a kiss; and those acrobats are back, hanging from the ceiling.

the awards are in alphabetical order. clapping is difficult, because not everyone is familiar with all the sites. still, i try to clap each time, at least for the winners. the speeches are mostly clever. my favorite? "everyone likes the licky-licky." i have no idea what it means, but the charm is all in the facial expression.

as it gets closer to personal websites, my mom leans in and tells me that my dad is incredibly nervous and that he has broken the latch on his lunchpail. i giggle.

i know i'm not going to win. not to sound self-deprecating, but i just know i won't. diaryland may be a fabulous resource and give voice to thousands of people. metababy might be slick and innovative. kottke certainly knows his shit. but halcyon, oh, halcyon. his personality beams through his site.

but i've still come up with five words, because it would be really stupid not to.

and can i tell you how cool it is to see shots of my site on that gigantic screen? and to hear the applause (even if it's mostly the people beside me)? and to remember, in one split second, all the wonderful things people have said to me in the previous month? wow.

the cocky bastard wins, and the beautiful thing is he's not at all cocky when he goes up onstage, like some people probably expect. he engages the audience in a game of charades: "two words," he says. "feel the love."

and i do. a moment after the award, and my mom leans in to me to tell me how proud of me they are.



after the ceremony, my parents leave, and we (the kottke and maganda development teams) make our way to the party across the street.

did i mention it's cold? oh my god, is it ever chilly. i'm wishing i wore my flannel PJs and fuzzy slippers at this very moment, and honestly, i could have gotten away with it.

the party is one big blur, emphasis on the big. it's spread out among four tents, and we spend most of the night going back and forth looking for People We Know or People We Would Like to Know. we see derek, heather, lance, shauna, carl, peter, but we're still looking for halcyon. has anyone seen halcyon? we must congratulate him.

and then there he is. a big white fuzzy vision strutting into the tent. he walks right up to me and gives me a hug, and wow, how many girls wish they were me right now? we get about two minutes of conversation with him, until swarms of people are around him, for good ol' halcyon lovin', so we leave him to his adoring fans.

there is no rhyme nor reason to the decor. there are random images projected on the ceilings, pink cotton candy-like structures and fountains. everyone's looking for the sushi. i'm just happy with my gin-and-tonic and Its-It (ice cream sandwiched between two oatmeal cookies).

rumor has it dj spooky is spinning, so we end up on the dance floor, trying to get a glimpse. we are near the front, grooving to the tunes. all of a sudden, i notice that it's just me and peter left on the dance floor. we keep dancing until i start to worry that ev might leave without me. peter is kind enough to accompany me to find them. and we do -- they are standing in a circle, talking, in the other tent.



we are standing in a hallway, a few yards away from halcyon who is talking to more fans, when an older woman approaches us (me, ev, peter and lance).

"so he (halcyon) told me that his website is just all about him, that's not really true, is it?"

we laugh. "well, yes, actually it is."

she is baffled. "but how can that be? you mean to tell me people actually make sites about themselves? what's on it?"

lance tries to explain that personal sites have been around as long as there's been a web and that there are actually a lot of them out there.

and then ev points to me. "yeah, she was nominated in that category, too."

"really?" she asks.

"yeah," i chuckle.

"so what's yours about?"



it's 1:30am, and the only people left at the party are those about to make embarrassing drunken scenes, so we decide to leave.

on the way out, i trip. i don't eat it, but i sort of slip on one of the steps. i need to stop talking about how clumsy i am, because i think it's becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy. but then again, i'm also wearing new shoes and a wee bit tipsy on gin-and-tonics. earlier, some guy ran into me and tweaked my glasses, so they are crooked. i am a vision of grace.

so i should have mentioned this before, but i am stranded in the city. the place where i'm staying is 30 minutes away, and i don't have a car. i thought maybe i could find a ride, but nobody else has a car, either. earlier, melissa tells me that if i need a ride, to give her a call and she'll pick me up-- no matter what time, since she has friday off. although ev offers me the futon to crash on, and although i know my parents will freak out when i make melissa come pick me up, i give her a call.

she picks me up at ev's place, which is, well, i don't know where it is. i have no concept of direction at this point. he sits up and waits with me until melissa gets there. we talk about crushes over frozen pizza and water.

melissa and max, their boxer, drive me home, where my parents await. sure enough, they're freaking out, because i made melissa pick me up at 2am (according to mom, "na kaka hiya," which means, how shameful), but they are also eager to hear all about it.

tomorrow, i say, sleepily, and then crawl into bed.

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