I know the "what the heck am I doing" stuff is going to get old fast, but let me get my Democratic National Convention legs.

Somehow I ended up at the morning press briefing. I did my best to avoid it while searching for somewhere to plug in my laptop, but kept getting directed there and didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I think that's how they sucker people into going: search for the clueless. I still haven't figured out the recycle cans, puzzling over which bin merited a Jamba Juice cup. (Turned out it was one number away from recyclable, in case you're wondering.)

However, at the door to the Convention Center, a security guard instructing a new guy on the various credentials pointed to the card hanging from my neck, saying, "Like that one. That one's good," allowing me to breeze in as if I belonged.

At the press briefing, people used the words exciting, diverse, and historic enough that I looked for a line of shot glasses for a drinking game.

The only news of note was a Commission on Change that will be voted on tonight with all of the platform and rules committee stuff. The name sounded vague enough to be interesting. Turns out it's to study changing the delegate/caucus process for 2012. Bet they'll just screw it up more.

Another announcement was that all the delegates would have full votes, referencing Florida and Michigan. I guess they must have promised not to incite a Hillary Revolt. I wanted to ask if that included American Samoa, who gets a half vote per delegate, but they closed questioning before I found the nerve.

I'm writing this from the Specialty Media lounge, where I saw snacks and coffee. I asked the woman at the desk if I was specialty media. She listed a number of groups that obviously didn't apply, then told me to sign the narrow form with a Sharpie.

I said, "Heck, I'll give you some of my pens if I get a credential," which worked. Maybe this will be easier than I thought.