The below originally appeared at Counterforce.

I owe so many people stories about South by Southwest (if you don’t know what SXSW is, kill yourself) I’m starting to think I should just print out the million text messages I must have sent to get some kind of comprehensive account of what exactly just happened in the past week.

sxsw remnants. giant cup of dr pepper from whataburger optional.

As Marco mentioned, Bruce Sterling had his annual talk (his legendary post party was supposedly canceled) at SXSW Interactive. Yeah, you know who else had a talk at the conference? Me. And guess what this bitch got? A mainstream news mention. Which means… you will never hear from me again. I’m moving on to the big leagues. Now we sip champagne when we thirsty.

when you're very important, you get giant pieces of paper with your name on it.

The best party at SXSW was the Gawker invite-only party, where they served theme drinks based on all the Gawker media properties (red wine for Jezebel, a screwdriver for Lifehacker, and a Manhattan for Gawker, etc). The second best party was the RVIPLounge, a party that came out of my dreams and into reality. It was a moving karaoke RV with cheap tequila and wine on board.

I lost two items of sentimental value and most of my dignity as I harassed an Internet celebrity who’s online clique I used to worship (uber.nu for the old school dorks) and then went on to berate the founder of a new location based iPhone app we were all using that gives you fake badges for the amount of times you announce your location. I asked if I could just cheat and get the badges anyway and he was upset that I was pissing on all his hard work. I never did get the Slut badge (which you get for checking into three hotels in one night) but I did get the Redford badge for attending film screenings, like one of Creative Non-Fiction directed by a fellow Oberlin College survivor.

One of the films I saw was a short called Coffee, about a woman just trying to get a cup of the tasty nectar of the gods. It starred Amy Locane, who you may remember as being from Melrose Place. At least I did. Her transition from TV actress to starring in a short film at an independent film festival is intriguing. How did she get here? The short was kind of perfect because it was just a moment in time, but it had a clear beginning, middle and ending. It was just enough of the character.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZQbWn9HKZM&hl=en&fs=1]

Don’t ask me about SXSW Music because I’m still flaggelating myself for not upgrading my badge when I had the chance and missing the chance to see Third Eye Blind and get even more free drinks. Instead, I kicked it with the anti SXSW festival of free shows in Austin. One was an acoustic show at a dirt parking lot where I imbibed on Barefoot Cellars Pinot Grigio. Because the 7-11 we stopped at was too classy to carry Sparks. I did get to catch Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, an old college favorite, who was playing a free show across from the dirt parking lot show at an old man dive bar that only served two kinds of beer. Here, have a dance party break:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=la227pWNtSc&hl=en&fs=1]

In numbers, let’s put it this way. Number of Julia Allison sightings: two. Number of real celebrity sightings: just one, of Dave Navarro in the airport. Number of times consumed things covered in smothered cheese: every time. Number of times I consumed barbecue: 4. Is it a nerd spring break? Yes. Is it filled with marketing wankers who want to monetize the Internet? Totally. Is it also filled with people rambling on about their shitty band and trying to get their film picked up? Uh huh. But you know what? The haters can hate and the jealous ones can envy. The reality is that this one of the highest concentrations of pure awesomeoness (and smoked meats) in one location and that is a beautiful, gorgeous thing. So South By, I can’t wait to see you next year, where we we can drink tequila at 1pm and lick barbecue sauce off of each other’s fingers before exchanging business cards.

portrait of the author wearing her most prized sxsw accesory: her gold badge

(pss, for more of my SXSW coverage, peek underneath the jump!)

My SXSW coverage, so far:

I wrapped up a few films for Film Gecko
A few reflections on what I dubbed the “pink ghetto” of SXSW Interactive at BitchBuzz, which is not to say I disliked any of the panels I saw. I was just noticing the emphasis on how much it sucks to be a woman online. That’s a little bit my own fault for attending different versions of the same panel over and over again, but this was really my point, which it took me a while to get to:

The most effective response to this discussion was brought up at the Blogging Bloodsport presentation: a woman self described as a “second wave femenist” brought up the fact that here we were, discussing how hard it was to be called names on the Internet, while the only female Supreme Court justice was dying. Which is more important? Which deserves more of our attention?

Still to come: a review of Humpday for This Recording, and I have to think of a place to put a comprehensive review of We Live In Public, which was a stunning film on living in public on the Internet. I wrote a really brief paragraph for it on the Film Gecko post:

After winning the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance this year, SXSW hosted a special screening of documentary filmmaker Ondi Timoner’s We Live In Public, a film on Josh Harris, the biggest “Internet pioneer you’ve never heard of.” Harris was one of the first people to cash in on the dot com boom by starting a data mining company and running the first Internet only television station, Pseudo.Com. Harris predicted that one day we would all live in public on the Internet, which he himself did with an art project in New York called “Quiet” and later on, with his webcam site “We Live In Public.” Piecing together interviews with former Pseudo employees, colleagues and family members, we get a fascinating, stunning look into the mind of a disturbed genius, as well as extremely relevant commentary on the increasingly public nature of our lives.

I still feel pretentious quoting myself, but such is the nature of the self promoting writer beast. Ain’t nobody going to toot your horn but you, girl.