RWA’s annual conference is in full swing in San Francisco. This year the conference is right in my backyard, and I’m not there.The different loops I belong to are eerily quiet, and my writing buddies are all off line, accept for the occasional ‘wish you were here e-mail’. This has left me to wallow in  ‘conference envy’. I planned on going, but when my daughter announced she was pregnant with her second child, her due date, August 1^st, I knew it wasn’t in the cards for me. My daughter delivered a beautiful baby girl last week. She’s recovering nicely. Her little girl is perfect, which left me free to go. I seriously considered making a daily commute into the city instead of paying the astronomically high price for a hotel at the last minute.After weighing my pros and cons, I decided against it.    This would have been my third RWA conference. And with it so close to home, it would have been the easiest transportation wise, and probably one of the best, since all of my writer friends would be there, because of location, location, location. It also would have been one of the most expensive, even without airfare.What I get out of conferences, usually makes it worth all the hassle and expense. But on the flip side of that, honestly there isn’t much I do like about them. I can handle crowds, but don’t like them. Outside my writer friends, mostly from local chapters, I don’t have a large writing network from on-line, (a big social factor when attending conferences.) And I have a tendency to absorb a lot of the emotional stress shooting through the air like dry lightening looking for target to light up. And that leaves me just slightly cranky.I love the workshops, but hate the agent/editor interviews. The Rita’s are interesting, but usually can’t wait to get out of there either, again, because of the crowds. So right now my conference envy, (after writing about it in cyberspace), is ebbing away into the emotional compartment labeled, forget-about-it. Still what does keep the envy sort-of dangling at the edge of my cluttered life, is what I do love about conferences. And that is the people I meet. I love having uninterrupted time to really sit and talk about nothing but writing, and the industry, while doing a lot of people watching. Occasionally, I’ll glimpse someone very well published and in our world of romance, very famous. Or have the opportunity to meet someone I admire. I can catch up with people I’ve met in the past, and haven’t seen  since last year. I’ll have a few guilt free martinis, and just enjoy being out of my element and away from my life.As I consider it now, all those things I love about going, wasn’t a strong enough draw for me to pay out the late fees. For me, it would have been one very expensive party. Because as I cruise my favorite blogs, that is all that anyone and everyone is talking about, meeting up with friends and closing down the local bars. Nothing about the conference and its contents. Usually that comes with the first conference. Everything is new, and I can only speak for myself, I was awe struck. Since then it was to get away and spend time with writer friends. Which is always a great time. But this time I decided to say no to the mule team encouraging me to go.  So as my envy cradles itself comfortably in the back of my mind, I’ll wait until next year, for it will be in Washington DC, and just maybe I’ll make the trip. I’ve never been there before and that fact, makes it even more attractive.Right for now, I’ll dig around in emotional field to find contentment with knowing my friends are having a great time for me.Question of the Day:  What is your favorite thing about conferences? And if you didn’t go this year. Why?