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You think of whiiite....
So. ShowMeCon. Where do I start... I suppose I begin with the whole, "I've been avoiding con committee duties for the last... seven months." thing. Which I have. And which really didn't matter, anyway.
Friday was... Nice, actually. Got to the con, had people happy to see me, had stuff fairly organized. Got Hospitality set up a little later than I'd planned, but I was running late and running errands.
Ran more errands, came back. Ate, somewhere in there. I think. No, wait, I didn't.
I ate junk food, but I didn't eat anything solid. Hrm. Bad me.
Started drinking about 10pm. I found a new mix, you see. And it's damned good. Cup of canadian whiskey, half a cup of midori, two cans of peach soda. Pour all over ice and mix. Let ice melt. Try not to drink it all in ten minutes.
Oops.
There was no dance that night, sadly, but a bunch of us sat around and chatted until something like 3am. Some of us rather toasty. We also filked, too, which I'd not done. And it wasn't bad. Having a decent voice is a good thing.
Oh! Wore my CrazyHairJohn t-shirt, and got lots of people saying, "Cool shirt." to me. Also, went through a huge stack of paper, dumping half of it as out-dated edits. I now have two, count 'em, TWO edits for the CordyFaith, and one for SCW. Yay. Now I just need to sit down and finish them both.
Saturday started way too fucking early, and I pulled on the other Farscape t-shirt I have. Which has CrazyHair right over, well... Never mind.
Got up, got hospitality open about 9:45, and was given a ton of Hostess crap. So, lots of goodies.
Most of the day went fine. Worked a bit on the Fic From Hell, and the Marya in Farscape piece (I have bad plot ideas). Had a panel to be at at 5pm, read some Plot Weasel stuff (the only thing I had remotely short and finished on disk to read...) to underwhelming interest. Well, fuck them, they have no taste if they're not amused at Poirot and Harvey talking.
These were people who laughed and applauded a stupid fucking DS9 story that sounded as if it were written by a 12-year-old.
Yeah, I don't have a high regard for them.
Getting back to hospitality, I overheard some skinny little bitch complaining about there being nothing happening on Friday. Since I was tired and not particularly articulate, I didn't actually say, "Well, if you'd just had all your friends stay around, and asked, we could have HAD music in hospitality, you fucking twat."
She then proceeded to talk down to me about how, she was talking to her friends, and didn't really mean anything.
Yeah, and I'm the president.
Fucker.
My irritation now a full-blown case of wanting to rip someone's head off, but still being curtailed by the fact that, as a staff member of the con, it will look bad if I do so, I grabbed my stuff and took off.
Literally.
Almost quit the fucking con, too. Tore the little 'staff' ribbon off my badge and left it in the parking lot, tossed my con badge in the back seat...
Drove way too fast, and hit the comic store in St. Charles where I finally grabbed the newest Weapon X (HAHAHAH!!! Bad things happened in it. Yay;), some Enigmas for 50 cents, and the first Preacher TPB. Sigh. Oh well, it was something to read. ;)
Ate.
Drove back, determined to tell people to fuck themselves if they bothered me, and decided to hit the pool.
Unfortunately, the hotel was over-run by little leaguers, so the pool was over-f;owing (at 8-fucking-pm) with screaming brats who I would loved to have taken a machine gun to.
I could have drowned them. I would have been happy.
Ever stand next to the speakers at a rock concert? This was louder.
Stalked back to the room, and sat under a hot shower for about half an hour. Still pissy and generally in a "I hate this place, but I made a commitment" mood, I drifted downstairs.
Mixed up a new batch of booze, sadly without the peach, since we were out. But. It tasted good mixed with the blue stuff, and some fruit punch... Midori, whiskey, vodka, and blue curaco. Yes. I mix alcohol. And I added peach schnapps to it later. And sour raspberry.
Ahem.
Did some karaoke. Screwed up the third verse of 'West End Girls', and had tech difficulties through the first half of 'Ladyfingers'. Sadly, there was no Lush or Erasure. Damnit.
Stayed up until 5am, happily buzzed most of the time. We killed a LOT of alcohol.
Got up at 9am on Sunday, packed up everything, emptied out hospitality...
And came home, now the proud owner of a nearly-full bottle of "Everything I had on the table at one point (cheri-beri puckers, peach schnapps, canadian whiskey, sour raspberry puckers--it's a little sweet)" and some blue Maui. And a vodka and fruit juice mix (berry. Smells lovely). And the hard lemonade that didn't get drunk.
Now am online.
Missed you guys.
Friday was... Nice, actually. Got to the con, had people happy to see me, had stuff fairly organized. Got Hospitality set up a little later than I'd planned, but I was running late and running errands.
Ran more errands, came back. Ate, somewhere in there. I think. No, wait, I didn't.
I ate junk food, but I didn't eat anything solid. Hrm. Bad me.
Started drinking about 10pm. I found a new mix, you see. And it's damned good. Cup of canadian whiskey, half a cup of midori, two cans of peach soda. Pour all over ice and mix. Let ice melt. Try not to drink it all in ten minutes.
Oops.
There was no dance that night, sadly, but a bunch of us sat around and chatted until something like 3am. Some of us rather toasty. We also filked, too, which I'd not done. And it wasn't bad. Having a decent voice is a good thing.
Oh! Wore my CrazyHairJohn t-shirt, and got lots of people saying, "Cool shirt." to me. Also, went through a huge stack of paper, dumping half of it as out-dated edits. I now have two, count 'em, TWO edits for the CordyFaith, and one for SCW. Yay. Now I just need to sit down and finish them both.
Saturday started way too fucking early, and I pulled on the other Farscape t-shirt I have. Which has CrazyHair right over, well... Never mind.
Got up, got hospitality open about 9:45, and was given a ton of Hostess crap. So, lots of goodies.
Most of the day went fine. Worked a bit on the Fic From Hell, and the Marya in Farscape piece (I have bad plot ideas). Had a panel to be at at 5pm, read some Plot Weasel stuff (the only thing I had remotely short and finished on disk to read...) to underwhelming interest. Well, fuck them, they have no taste if they're not amused at Poirot and Harvey talking.
These were people who laughed and applauded a stupid fucking DS9 story that sounded as if it were written by a 12-year-old.
Yeah, I don't have a high regard for them.
Getting back to hospitality, I overheard some skinny little bitch complaining about there being nothing happening on Friday. Since I was tired and not particularly articulate, I didn't actually say, "Well, if you'd just had all your friends stay around, and asked, we could have HAD music in hospitality, you fucking twat."
She then proceeded to talk down to me about how, she was talking to her friends, and didn't really mean anything.
Yeah, and I'm the president.
Fucker.
My irritation now a full-blown case of wanting to rip someone's head off, but still being curtailed by the fact that, as a staff member of the con, it will look bad if I do so, I grabbed my stuff and took off.
Literally.
Almost quit the fucking con, too. Tore the little 'staff' ribbon off my badge and left it in the parking lot, tossed my con badge in the back seat...
Drove way too fast, and hit the comic store in St. Charles where I finally grabbed the newest Weapon X (HAHAHAH!!! Bad things happened in it. Yay;), some Enigmas for 50 cents, and the first Preacher TPB. Sigh. Oh well, it was something to read. ;)
Ate.
Drove back, determined to tell people to fuck themselves if they bothered me, and decided to hit the pool.
Unfortunately, the hotel was over-run by little leaguers, so the pool was over-f;owing (at 8-fucking-pm) with screaming brats who I would loved to have taken a machine gun to.
I could have drowned them. I would have been happy.
Ever stand next to the speakers at a rock concert? This was louder.
Stalked back to the room, and sat under a hot shower for about half an hour. Still pissy and generally in a "I hate this place, but I made a commitment" mood, I drifted downstairs.
Mixed up a new batch of booze, sadly without the peach, since we were out. But. It tasted good mixed with the blue stuff, and some fruit punch... Midori, whiskey, vodka, and blue curaco. Yes. I mix alcohol. And I added peach schnapps to it later. And sour raspberry.
Ahem.
Did some karaoke. Screwed up the third verse of 'West End Girls', and had tech difficulties through the first half of 'Ladyfingers'. Sadly, there was no Lush or Erasure. Damnit.
Stayed up until 5am, happily buzzed most of the time. We killed a LOT of alcohol.
Got up at 9am on Sunday, packed up everything, emptied out hospitality...
And came home, now the proud owner of a nearly-full bottle of "Everything I had on the table at one point (cheri-beri puckers, peach schnapps, canadian whiskey, sour raspberry puckers--it's a little sweet)" and some blue Maui. And a vodka and fruit juice mix (berry. Smells lovely). And the hard lemonade that didn't get drunk.
Now am online.
Missed you guys.
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You can end up on the floor and crying, while people write things on your head in Biro. You can end the thing going home with The Girl Most Likely. But in the end it means nothing.
All I mean is, for bad or good, that a *convention* experience *feels* like a real life - but don't take it as a touchstone. It's a place where you can spend a few days with whatever persona you like - but not a place to exist where you truly live.
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