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Mar. 1st, 2009
Sci-Fi weekend
Mar. 1st, 2009 10:56 pmTwitter is the fast food of blogging: it is deliciously exciting, timely, and self-expressive enough to resemble blogging, but ultimately only makes you feel fulfilled, but lacking in the nutritive value more protracted writing provides.
Have I finally overtaxed my favorite food-related metaphor usage this time? Nope.
There are some things that cannot be communicated in 140 characters.
Friday night, after my little coz finished acting in the school play, she arrived at my house for a good old-fashioned sleep over. We watched Supernatural with audio commentary, discussed costume options for Renn Faire in a few weeks, ate chocolate cake and milk and generally geeked out for a couple hours before lights out. For a good while before nodding off, we lay in bed and gossiped about what all over-intellectual girls talk about when the forced formalities of daytime are removed and replaced with the confessors' luxury of darkened space: boys. Well, Jackie talked about boys while I mostly listened and doled out philosophies and thanked the Universed I'm not in high school(even though I work there half the time). She really knows how to reiterate a story, tell you what. Memory like an elephant and a jawbone like a monkey. I love her so much.
So, next day, we got up and hit the bank and Panera for breakfast before driving out of town. Had too much fun introducing her to the wonders The Bugle and John Oliver's off-TDS giggling fits, then arrived in the traditionally backed-up line to get into the parking lot. Just before finding a spot, I spotted a DeLorean, a bona fide fully-functioning(I suppose) DeLorean in the parking garage, just sitting there as if it belonged in everyday life. "Only at Megacon," I mused inwardly, outwardly squeeing along with my coz.
On our way in, we wee met with the dissociative sight of crowds of Megacon-goers and the all-business Floor and Carpet Convention folk. Half of the convention hall population that day were in colorful costume of varying levels of craftsmanship and half were in suits and ties, pantsuits and heels, and only half of us was genuinely happy to be there.
We got in line to pick up our tickets and saw what we soon deemed would be the most popular character of the day: the giant white unicorn person. It didn't take a genius to deuce that this guy/gal/whatever was going to have camera-phone-picture-takers lining up to get a shot of their friends standing next to him/her/it. We also saw a guy painted blue, a Captain America with a beer gut, a really great Dr. Horrible(cute!) and a guy who I'm sure was trying to be Seth Rogan from... something. The greatest surprise was the Chuck Bartowski, who made Jackie and I squeal a bit too much even for him. He was kind enough to let me take a picture with him and Jackie, so REPRESENT CHUCK! We love you!
We got in and basked in the cool, relatively clean atmosphere of the early hours of the Con as we made our first scouting round. No media guest of real interest to us this year, so were were free to browse and shop for shit we didn't even know we needed to our hearts' delight. At noonish, we reached escape velocity out of there and hit up Adobe Gilas for a Mexican lunch that was instantly satisfying to both stomach and soul, for Jackie spent any moment without food in her mouth singing along with the eclectic mix of punk rock/pop punk tunes that kept popping up on the Sirius station that played in the background. It was a beautiful, warm sunny day outside, and we were glad for the 10-minute flora-lined walk to the restaurant.
When we got back, the din of the vendor floor had increased, along with the heady perfume of mouth-breathers and the unbathed. We did our real shopping then, slowly inching up and down aisles to reach the stalls we mapped out in our mind. We got Supernatural trading cards, fake plastic badges for demon hunting and nerd herding, and the handfuls of D&D dice we dug up were the shiny gem-like treasures of the day. I didn't find the legendary 100-sided Zocchidedron I originally set out for, but I got some dice-within-hollow-dice an a presumably rare triangle-shaped d5 that doesn't look like it would fall fairly at all and would appear at home with the rest of the clear plastic rocks in the bottom of a beta fish bowl.
My favorite find, though, I had spotted in a corner of the prop replica stall. Our eyes were dazzled by the fake but awesome golden idol from Raiders and the key box from The Mummy, but I saw something even cooler, providing that "cooler" equals "more rarefied and obscure" : Life Clocks from Logan's Run. Holy shit, I own Life Clocks from Logan's Run! Excuse my geekgasm.
Needing to refuel somewhere around hour five, Jackie and I grabbed some ice cream and headed upstairs to the mezzanine walkway to sit and picnic for a bit while sky watching the busy Con floor below. Popping Crunch Bar Dibs and squeeing over the Sam and Dean photos in the cards we bought, we noticed a higher number of non-Con folk entering the hall: Girl's volleyball tournament people. It was nice to see the nerds far outnumber the jocks during this time, and it was deliciously gratifying to see the fully-ambulatory and noise-producing R2D2 purposely picking on the sports folk as they scurried by.
Despite my phone's plotting against me and losing all reception inside the hall, I got into contact with Connie and Georgie and found them buying a signed art print. We commiserated at a breakneck pace, since Jackie and I were essentially on our way out by then and Connie and Georgie were just getting started. It was nice for Jackie to finally meet Georgie and talk shop(about life on the stage) and then get in the loop regarding Connie's bachelorette party. *sigh* I miss my friends so hard.
At the end of the day, it was a successful execution of our annual uber nerd duties. We were smart to bring the rolling luggage instead of shoulder bags, but next time, I think we'll keep the X-Files t-shirts and leave the fairy wings at home. It's incredibly paradoxical that people can walk around wearing nonsensically more elaborate costumes than us with bigger, more cumbersome props, but our wings proved the most difficult. I promised my coz that wings are a lot easier to handle at Renn Faire.
Is this nerd sleepover/Megacon trip thing just Caity trying to relive days past when she would sleep over with friends still spatially convenient? I suppose there aren't many 26-year-olds schlepping fairy wings and little cousins halfway across the state to endure and embrace geeky rights of passage long overcome, but I still have time left on my Life Clock, which, at least in the hermetically-sealed world of MegaCon, doesn't ever turn black. The day I attend CarpetCon, I shall gladly Renew.
Until Renn Faire and the Supernatural EyeCon after that, this is Caity 5 turning Runner in search of Sanctuary. Over and out.
Have I finally overtaxed my favorite food-related metaphor usage this time? Nope.
There are some things that cannot be communicated in 140 characters.
Friday night, after my little coz finished acting in the school play, she arrived at my house for a good old-fashioned sleep over. We watched Supernatural with audio commentary, discussed costume options for Renn Faire in a few weeks, ate chocolate cake and milk and generally geeked out for a couple hours before lights out. For a good while before nodding off, we lay in bed and gossiped about what all over-intellectual girls talk about when the forced formalities of daytime are removed and replaced with the confessors' luxury of darkened space: boys. Well, Jackie talked about boys while I mostly listened and doled out philosophies and thanked the Universed I'm not in high school(even though I work there half the time). She really knows how to reiterate a story, tell you what. Memory like an elephant and a jawbone like a monkey. I love her so much.
So, next day, we got up and hit the bank and Panera for breakfast before driving out of town. Had too much fun introducing her to the wonders The Bugle and John Oliver's off-TDS giggling fits, then arrived in the traditionally backed-up line to get into the parking lot. Just before finding a spot, I spotted a DeLorean, a bona fide fully-functioning(I suppose) DeLorean in the parking garage, just sitting there as if it belonged in everyday life. "Only at Megacon," I mused inwardly, outwardly squeeing along with my coz.
On our way in, we wee met with the dissociative sight of crowds of Megacon-goers and the all-business Floor and Carpet Convention folk. Half of the convention hall population that day were in colorful costume of varying levels of craftsmanship and half were in suits and ties, pantsuits and heels, and only half of us was genuinely happy to be there.
We got in line to pick up our tickets and saw what we soon deemed would be the most popular character of the day: the giant white unicorn person. It didn't take a genius to deuce that this guy/gal/whatever was going to have camera-phone-picture-takers lining up to get a shot of their friends standing next to him/her/it. We also saw a guy painted blue, a Captain America with a beer gut, a really great Dr. Horrible(cute!) and a guy who I'm sure was trying to be Seth Rogan from... something. The greatest surprise was the Chuck Bartowski, who made Jackie and I squeal a bit too much even for him. He was kind enough to let me take a picture with him and Jackie, so REPRESENT CHUCK! We love you!
We got in and basked in the cool, relatively clean atmosphere of the early hours of the Con as we made our first scouting round. No media guest of real interest to us this year, so were were free to browse and shop for shit we didn't even know we needed to our hearts' delight. At noonish, we reached escape velocity out of there and hit up Adobe Gilas for a Mexican lunch that was instantly satisfying to both stomach and soul, for Jackie spent any moment without food in her mouth singing along with the eclectic mix of punk rock/pop punk tunes that kept popping up on the Sirius station that played in the background. It was a beautiful, warm sunny day outside, and we were glad for the 10-minute flora-lined walk to the restaurant.
When we got back, the din of the vendor floor had increased, along with the heady perfume of mouth-breathers and the unbathed. We did our real shopping then, slowly inching up and down aisles to reach the stalls we mapped out in our mind. We got Supernatural trading cards, fake plastic badges for demon hunting and nerd herding, and the handfuls of D&D dice we dug up were the shiny gem-like treasures of the day. I didn't find the legendary 100-sided Zocchidedron I originally set out for, but I got some dice-within-hollow-dice an a presumably rare triangle-shaped d5 that doesn't look like it would fall fairly at all and would appear at home with the rest of the clear plastic rocks in the bottom of a beta fish bowl.
My favorite find, though, I had spotted in a corner of the prop replica stall. Our eyes were dazzled by the fake but awesome golden idol from Raiders and the key box from The Mummy, but I saw something even cooler, providing that "cooler" equals "more rarefied and obscure" : Life Clocks from Logan's Run. Holy shit, I own Life Clocks from Logan's Run! Excuse my geekgasm.
Needing to refuel somewhere around hour five, Jackie and I grabbed some ice cream and headed upstairs to the mezzanine walkway to sit and picnic for a bit while sky watching the busy Con floor below. Popping Crunch Bar Dibs and squeeing over the Sam and Dean photos in the cards we bought, we noticed a higher number of non-Con folk entering the hall: Girl's volleyball tournament people. It was nice to see the nerds far outnumber the jocks during this time, and it was deliciously gratifying to see the fully-ambulatory and noise-producing R2D2 purposely picking on the sports folk as they scurried by.
Despite my phone's plotting against me and losing all reception inside the hall, I got into contact with Connie and Georgie and found them buying a signed art print. We commiserated at a breakneck pace, since Jackie and I were essentially on our way out by then and Connie and Georgie were just getting started. It was nice for Jackie to finally meet Georgie and talk shop(about life on the stage) and then get in the loop regarding Connie's bachelorette party. *sigh* I miss my friends so hard.
At the end of the day, it was a successful execution of our annual uber nerd duties. We were smart to bring the rolling luggage instead of shoulder bags, but next time, I think we'll keep the X-Files t-shirts and leave the fairy wings at home. It's incredibly paradoxical that people can walk around wearing nonsensically more elaborate costumes than us with bigger, more cumbersome props, but our wings proved the most difficult. I promised my coz that wings are a lot easier to handle at Renn Faire.
Is this nerd sleepover/Megacon trip thing just Caity trying to relive days past when she would sleep over with friends still spatially convenient? I suppose there aren't many 26-year-olds schlepping fairy wings and little cousins halfway across the state to endure and embrace geeky rights of passage long overcome, but I still have time left on my Life Clock, which, at least in the hermetically-sealed world of MegaCon, doesn't ever turn black. The day I attend CarpetCon, I shall gladly Renew.
Until Renn Faire and the Supernatural EyeCon after that, this is Caity 5 turning Runner in search of Sanctuary. Over and out.