"and that frankly will not fly"

Post-con crash: party of one? That's not true, you can all come to this party.

There were many awesome bits of Readercon. There were people who told me I did a good job, and people who told me I was a ray of sunshine. I ended up staying at the hotel all three days, and was much smarter about retreating to my room for naps, Secret World and sex. (not that I would have done those not-in-my-room). It also felt a little like sleepaway camp, our room adjoined Purple's and we kept the doors open for the most part.

It was a little bit like stage managing, the buzz of being told I'd done a good job by some of the people I was trying to support. Talking to Bespoke (inconvenient crush is still inconvenient) on the ride to an art show (another story entirely), I felt oddly defensive when he asked me what I'd done. Because I kind of didn't do much of anything, I just kept trying to make sure people saw me around.

I thought this was going to be my second-to-last con. I thought that I'd figured out what I'd wanted from the con world, and the ways in which I was not going to get it, and I was going to give up and move to new, if not greener, pastures. I wasn't going to figure out how to sit at this particular cool kids table, and I had enough contexts in my life to feel uncomfortable and adrift, I didn't need to create additional opportunities. ((One of the last meetings I attended involve me screaming at people to stop interrupting each other, and what felt like a sustained riff on baitcon, and maybe I'm the only person at a divhead meeting who doesn't overlap with it, but it felt jarring.) (On the other hand, a well-intentioned person did invite me to maltcon, which was just as uncomfortable, in the opposite direction)

In short, I felt as though con culture in the boston area might be a well intentioned porcupine, but it's still a porcupine.

But, Readercon blew my socks off. Even though I certainly wasn't bringing my A game to the meetings by the end, the con itself was awesome. (and people told me I was hot!) And then Sunday night, a night I was absolutely certain would end in discomfort and exhaustion, I ended up getting to hang with Bespoke (I am totally going to power through the awkward, I just hope he'll play along), see an absolutely entrancing piece of art, and then have a ludicrously not-awkward-at-all evening where I got fed indian food, taught a new word game, given many compliments and then as a closing act, take off most of my clothes to show my back piece off.

And then there was today. But today wasn't as much fun, so I'm going to pretend for a little while that it didn't happen.

"and that frankly will not fly"

Post-con crash: party of one? That's not true, you can all come to this party.

There were many awesome bits of Readercon. There were people who told me I did a good job, and people who told me I was a ray of sunshine. I ended up staying at the hotel all three days, and was much smarter about retreating to my room for naps, Secret World and sex. (not that I would have done those not-in-my-room). It also felt a little like sleepaway camp, our room adjoined Purple's and we kept the doors open for the most part.

It was a little bit like stage managing, the buzz of being told I'd done a good job by some of the people I was trying to support. Talking to Bespoke (inconvenient crush is still inconvenient) on the ride to an art show (another story entirely), I felt oddly defensive when he asked me what I'd done. Because I kind of didn't do much of anything, I just kept trying to make sure people saw me around.

I thought this was going to be my second-to-last con. I thought that I'd figured out what I'd wanted from the con world, and the ways in which I was not going to get it, and I was going to give up and move to new, if not greener, pastures. I wasn't going to figure out how to sit at this particular cool kids table, and I had enough contexts in my life to feel uncomfortable and adrift, I didn't need to create additional opportunities. ((One of the last meetings I attended involve me screaming at people to stop interrupting each other, and what felt like a sustained riff on baitcon, and maybe I'm the only person at a divhead meeting who doesn't overlap with it, but it felt jarring.) (On the other hand, a well-intentioned person did invite me to maltcon, which was just as uncomfortable, in the opposite direction)

In short, I felt as though con culture in the boston area might be a well intentioned porcupine, but it's still a porcupine.

But, Readercon blew my socks off. Even though I certainly wasn't bringing my A game to the meetings by the end, the con itself was awesome. (and people told me I was hot!) And then Sunday night, a night I was absolutely certain would end in discomfort and exhaustion, I ended up getting to hang with Bespoke (I am totally going to power through the awkward, I just hope he'll play along), see an absolutely entrancing piece of art, and then have a ludicrously not-awkward-at-all evening where I got fed indian food, taught a new word game, given many compliments and then as a closing act, take off most of my clothes to show my back piece off.

And then there was today. But today wasn't as much fun, so I'm going to pretend for a little while that it didn't happen.