Obviously, I’m not done packing yet to head out to Vegas, as I’m in front of my laptop — which is also unpacked, along with (and here’s the gear coming with:)

  • my old iPod now running Linux, to better record with in the conference hallways between sessions (best stuff, always; this is a theme worthy of a conference all by itself: we can call it CorridorCamp), and while driving with the top down, and while walking the Strip looking for interviews
  • the fancy “Elvis” mic and phantom power and all the cables I use to record my podcast, whorecast, for recording my share of the official conference sessions
  • random cords, adaptors, connectors; like a little black dress, you just never know…
  • a few boxes of red, green, and gold stars (the meaning will be clear once conference registration starts on Sunday)

… and the mandatory shoes, digital camera, water mister with essential oils added, business cards (not business like that). Just need to clear out room in my little silver card case for all the new ones I’m sure to pick up.

Essentially — this is really just like any other conference.

But the hotel thing is so getting me, hotels as marked as they are, so in my mind they are, as sex workers’ contested territory.

This time, going about in the lobby and elevators, when people stare like they know “why we’re there”? This time, they really do. And we can talk about it all we like.

* I’ve been reading a few Vegas blogs, where it would seem that “local” and “visitor” are now slang for hotel working girls? Can anyone corroborate?

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