This bastard cough.
Having been in denial (that I had a serious cough that wasn't about to go away anytime soon) when we flew into Cork Thursday afternoon, I moved quickly through the following stages of anger (that the cough was going to ruin my convention), plea-bargaining (I wouldn't actually do any roleplaying, and would just attend the more informal events), depression (when I realised that the cough was inevitably going to totally destroy any chance of me enjoying the convention whatsoever) and finally reached acceptance sometime around Saturday afternoon, when I retreated to my hotel room and pretty-much stayed there* until today, when we left for the airport.
Clearly, with the benefit of hindsight it was really stupid to have gone, but the cruel logic angle here is that I only know this because I went - if I'd stayed at home I probably would have got better, and would then have believed that I made a mistake in staying. Bit of a bummer all around really.
If you were staying at my hotel, and were kept awake by my coughing - my apologies.
The other slight (by comparison with the whole cough thing) pisser for me was a mixup that happened with an auction item I'd donated.
What I'd done was got a copy of the Slayer's Guide To Games Masters (which I wrote), stuck nice paper end-plates on the inside covers, and then did two things:
a) Got a whole load of people to sign the first inside end-plate (me; the other Critical Miss Guys; Matt, Alex and Paul from Mongoose; and basically all of the Irish guys that were mentioned in it).
b) Got all the people who signed (including myself) to scribble comments throughout the book (most pages had at least one comment), particularly in places where I'd mentioned them (i.e. they could do rebuttals or whatever).
Anyway I figured it was quite a nice item (still do). I think "unique enhanced content" was the slightly ironic / poncy phrase I was using to describe it.
But... somewhere between me handing it in on Saturday morning, and the auction on Saturday evening, it, well, disappeared. (I wasn't at the auction, because I was busily engaged in an attempt to force my tonsils past my teeth using air pressure alone, but I'm told that it just never came up for auction, and no-one was quite sure why).
Anyhow, if anyone does manage to find out where it's got to I'd be grateful if they could grab it and ensure that it finds it's way to the Gaelcon 2004 charity auction.
* Except for going down to the breakfast room on Sunday morning to get a coffee, and going out for a two minute walk shortly after because Stu said I should "get some air.