She switches to the backstroke after ten laps. Ten more and she rolls over again; breaststroke. She has waterproof headphones and an audiobook going.
"I'm the nerd kind of green!"
"There are many kinds of nerd!"
"I don't know that you want to read the seven hundred comment thread on water carriers, to be clear."
"I am staying well clear of the comments."
"But then you won't know all the sociological implications," she notes. "I only cover the aspects of the argument that aren't totally stupid, I rely on my commenters to fill in the rest."
"'Here be a detailed explanation of the arguments that are not totally stupid, but also let's not forget that some people are stupid in new and inventive ways all the time,' I think I don't need to read the second part of that."
"I suppose. And sometimes I do have to comment on the nonstupid possible reactions to the stupid, since the sports world has to react to public opinion, which never fails to deliver some stupid."
"How often are the stupid opinions you comment on actually steelmen of the even more stupid ones people actually hold?"
"Frequently. It's just easier to hold them in my brain that way."
"Maybe I should start reading the comments. For entertainment."
"I believe some people find it entertaining!"
"I think I had my fill of entertaining forum comments when I was three."
"To each their own, if I ever really want you to read some of my comments I'll quote them in a toplevel."
"Thank you kindly, saves me the trouble."
"You're welcome. Oh, before I forget let me send you the details of the Oddball Blogs panel event, Ohan -" She grabs her everything and forwards him the email.
"Got it," he says after grabbing his own everything. "I'll be there."
The Oddball Blogs panel has a small convention room rented out with seats for seventy-five in the audience. Pelape shoves a chair to the wall for Ohan to slide into its space on their way in and takes her place at the table in front; there's a paper sign in front of her on that table with her name and the subtitle "Statistics (Sports, Crime, Miscellaneous)". The other panelists are the aforementioned Utota Malain, yellow, Vintage Furniture; a purple on quirks of the Anitami language; another purple who blogs about true crime and excerpts the fun parts of the more entertaining subset of trial interviews; a third purple who blogs in character as a plantation boss from 3100 and has come in appropriate cosplay, an orange who renders pop songs in traditional poetic forms and vice versa, and an orange who has two blogs, one with funny dramatized stories from the nursing home where he works and one with creative cardboard box based architecture he makes with his daughter.
Ohan slides to his appointed place and waves cheerfully in her direction.
The host announces the forty-third Oddball Blogs Panel, takes a picture of the panelists, gives them each one and a half minutes to recite their spiels. Pelape's is full of very subtextual wryness about her topic selection - "this is my day job, so you know I selected crime and sports as my most high-volume topics out of sheer passion" - and then there's a bit where the panelists can ask each other questions. The purple in cosplay wants to know whether they still play cattlerace in her time. She tells him that they do not but that the arcball borrows an obscure rule about inclement weather from a successor game to cattlerace.
It's kind of hot that she knows this.
Pelape asks a question of the linguist about antagonyms, gets a question from the nursing home orange about whether one of the patients' tales of sporting derring-do is plausible (no), asks the poet if she'll do Basket of Sunshine as a ten-liner. And then the audience can ask things.
Ohan raises his hand.
The moderator calls on him.
"Pelape said she's started this blog out of sheer passion and it is her day job, but what about everyone else? What made you decide to create your blogs, and with those specific themes?"
Pelape snorts to herself, and Ohan gets a series of answers about serendipitous online finds and classes they took, and in the case of the one in character the assertion that it is perfectly normal to keep a diary and why would that require any particular explanation.