This post is dedicated to cindywrites, who couldn't be there. You all can read it too, even if you won't know who any of these people are.
Friday afternoon, after work, I braved traffic and got lost for an hour on my way to the Holiday Inn Civic Center.
Luckily, I knew that the Buffista Hospitality Suite was 418, which any serial killer would have learned had he been strolling down the fourth floor and come across the sign on Room 418 that read "Buffista Hospitality Suite." He could have then walked right in due to the rigged-openness of the door, and he could have proceeded to murder everyone with aplomb except for Jilli, whose appearance would confuse him long enough for her to knock him out with a conveniently located bottle of Fernet.
Fortunately for the Buffistas, I was not a serial killer, at least not at the time. I walked in nonchalantly and marvelled at the number of people in the room; I had been expecting far fewer. Tommyrot put down his laptop, which allowed me to notice his rather shaved head, to which I replied, "Haircut!" Everyone immediately laughed and told me to look to my left. I looked and saw a large easel with paper with writing on it, a repository for amusing things said. I saw nothing relevant. I was told to look down, and there it was:
The Buffista Greeting: Hi! You changed your hair!
Of everyone in the room, the most exuberant greeting came from SuziQ, who leapt up to hug me. On the couch beside her were Juliana and someone who looked like her sister but turned out to be smonster, who hugged me and kissed me on the cheek and introduced herself. Following suit, Juliana extended her hand and said, "Hi, I'm Juliana." And for a couple seconds there, I was truly disoriented because maybe I didn't know the rules of the game. But she dropped the charade and gave me the hug-cheek-kiss greeting. You can pretty much assume that any greetings or goodbyes in this tale involve hugs and cheek-kisses, and if you assume more or less than that, that is up to you and your imagination.
SuziQ, after I explained to her the rules of the game, stood back up to give her cheek-kiss. To her right, incidentally, were Consuela and Nutty, who I also erroneously believed to be sisters at first. I knew Nutty was someone's sister, and the two of them looked alike, and they were next to each other, and can you blame me? Shut up, don't answer that.
I believe it was around this time that I met Jilli, and if you've never met Jilli, well...you've never met Jilli. We refer to her as the perky Goth, for she is a contradiction in terms, a woman who dresses like she's living in an alternate nineteenth century that contains only black fabric with the occasional discovery of pink but hugs you and kisses you on the cheek like she's living in an alternate twenty-first century that doesn't contain the Buffista plague.
After spending some time in the one room, I checked out what was going on in the other, and it was there, I think, that I met Cass, who I stupidly didn't even recognize at first. How dumb do you have to be not to recognize someone whose icon is her picture? I mean, really.
We interrupt this narrative to bring you this sexy interlude: I am sitting on the chair in between rooms, and Juliana is trying to make her way from realm to the next, but I extend my arms across the doorway, expecting her to attempt to limbo under them. Instead, she turns, lifts a leg, and straddles my arms. Continuing to look right at me, she dismounts on the other side and goes on her way, turning back to deliver, "Don't push me, babe!" At which point I decide that Juliana is like walking sex.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled narrative, already in progress.
Consuela suggested Mexican food, and as I liked both Consuela and Mexican food, I joined her excursion. 'Suela, Nutty, Kate P, Theodosia, and I BARTed to 16th and Mission. On the way, Consuela remarked, "So, you and Rob Thomas are like this, huh?" And so I told her the story.
After strolling down Valencia, we settled on Taqueria el Toro and hoped the food was not la mierda del toro. The noise level was not optimal, but the menu was plentiful. I played the numbers game and chose both a "baby" burrito and a torta ahogada. That way I could try both kinds of chicken I wanted. Meanwhile, Kate got a gigantic plate of chicken nachos and 'Suela got a gigantic quesadilla. Unfortunately, Theodosia was feeling rather wretched, so her dinner experience was not the greatest. Especially when a Mexican man came in and began singing and playing the accordion, heavily increasing the already heavy noise level. Then he had the nerve to solicit money for disturbing us.
I can only hope Theo was entertained by what little of our conversation she could hear, for it was the kind of conversation you only get from people who know each other through online fandom: that is, conversation about online fandom. Nutty and Consuela and I all discussed how we got into Farscape while attempting not to spoil Kate, who was just starting. This led to something resembling the following exchange:
Me: "Without spoiling Kate, can you remind me which one 'Fractures' is?"
Consuela: "It's the one where the two groups come together."
Me: "OH! With the thing! And the thing!"
Consuela: "'I've got an idea.'"
Me: "And that has the thing with the thing!"
(As it turns out, I was thinking of the wrong thing with the thing, but hey.)
Dinner conversation, on the whole, was pretty glorious, and it continued as we made our way back to the hotel. Topics included choosing an online moniker, the perils of online identities, schizophrenic posters, the savvy financial habits of television writers, reading fanfic, writing, tenses, POV, and the VM finale.
Back at the Hospitality Suite, the madness raged on. Pete had left his laptop, and Deena had discovered that she could sign into b.org as him. So of course she had to post as him. I helped by way of rhyming a lot. My crowning achievement was "May I ask why / Your esteem is so high, / That if I were nigh, / You'd buy me pie?"
Deb arrived with rations and asked for muscle, but I helped carry them to the other room anyway.
I met amyth, who had disappeared from the board around the time I had joined. I joked that I was her replacement.
Somehow a tiara ended up in my hand, so I put it on.
I met Beth, my Buffista Secret Santa, and Matt, her husband. They lived down in Fremont, and Matt insisted that I come visit, they would feed me and everything. He was very adamant about this request because he believed I deserved it for my writing. God knows what Beth had passed on to him that would inspire such admiration, but I was pretty floored. I think he had also read some of Protein Angst, or maybe just my articles, and, being a technical writer himself, he recognized my ability to explain complicated subjects in simple terms. Kristin overheard and chimed in, telling him I needed to hear that I was a good writer. Now, I firmly believe in the power of compliments, but I don't seem to have gotten any better at receiving them. Does not compute. Hearing Matt praise me so made me feel bad about not having written any fiction in three goddamn years, but posts such as these still allow me to flex my creative muscles, which are stronger than my actual muscles.
Those muscles were tired, so I slounged in the other room, but I was told there was no sleeping in the Hospitality Suite. I contested the rule. Unrelatedly, Cass and Nicole complained that my shirt was on, so I took it off. This is what you get when you feel compelled to announce your shirtlessness online (Newsflash! I am shirtless right now!).
Of course, my shirtlessness was nothing compared to what Miracleman was to endure. Inspired by a conversation about whether superheroes would wear stripey tights, he...put on stripey tights. It was one of the most photographed scenes of the weekend, especially considering all the debauchery going on around him. His lack of shame is admirable.
The rest of the night all sort of runs together with all the drinking and talking and meeting people from the Internet. There was so much going on, and there were so many people, I wasn't really sure what to do. But I stood around and existed. Special notice to Fay, the blonde, buxom Brit who had the ability to award House Points.
As I was driving home, I had to leave early (around 1), and I made the rounds to say goodbye. Cass and I ended up hugging each other over the divide between the bedroom and the outdoor patio. I thought it was artsy and special. A small moment but a highlight of the weekend, nonetheless.
I did not die on the way home, nor did I die on my return to the Hospitality Suite the next day.
Saturday morning, I found the Buffistas watching Sports Night on the telly. It was the first episode. Fay was enjoying it; they'd never gotten it overseas. The suite was a little less raucous than it had been the previous night.
Many folk were out at dim sum, while Deena, I think, and someone else I can't recall were in the bedroom eating Burger King, breakfast of champions.
The main event of the morning was the Pooh reading. Pete, who is so very, very British, read most of the parts (his Eeyore in particular was delightful). Beverly read for Pooh, and Fay read for Piglet. This is the strange thing about Buffistas, you see. They are ageless. I think I was actually the youngest person there (the 'fistas skewed older, generally, than most of my VM fandom peeps), but age was of no import here. A Buffista was just as apt to engage you in a conversation about quantum physics as she was to drool over vintage children's literature.
I paid some attention to the stories being read, but mostly, I was playing with Emma, Aimee's little bundle of cuteness. I randomly blowed in her face, and she seemed to really like it. So I kept doing it. And the expression on her face was, as Jason Dohring would say, fucking joyous. Simply divine. When you're young, it's the simple pleasures; that's all it takes.
After Pooh, Fay read aloud The Wolves in the Walls, a children's book written by Neil Gaiman and illustrated by Dave McKean. I had seen the book on the floor the other night and been interested, but I was glad I hadn't read it so I could have a fresh Fay experience. Fay was awesome: she could read upside-down! And she had distinct voices for all the characters; I was very impressed.
We were running a little behind schedule, so JZ led the thrifting expedition to Valencia. I showed Teppy the magical change machine in the BART station. I taught Fay how to buy a BART ticket, and she had the ill sense to be confident in my sense of direction, which claimed we could walk back to the hotel afterwards.
Behind me, Bridget greeted me, saying, "For some reason, I was expecting you to have longer hair."
Without even thinking, simply going off my confused first impressions, I replied, "For some reason, I was expecting you to be a woman."
There was an awkward pause before katefate said, "She's more woman than I am!" I realized my mistake and felt like the assiest ass in Assdonia, but to Bridget's extreme credit, she let it go completely and conversed with me normally as if I hadn't made the worst first impression I could possibly make.
The escalator was broken, and I made the obligatory Mitch Hedberg reference, but I don't think anyone got it, which is sad.
We BARTed to 16th and Mission. I forget who all was on our little excursion, but it was quite large. ChiKat, Jilli, Pete, Fay, Emily, vw bug, amyparker, JZ, Toddson, Teppy, Bridget, katefate, Kate P, and maybe your mom. Jilli opened her parasol.
As we strolled down Valencia, we scouted possible places to eat lunch but were waylaid by Bombay Bazaar, where we stopped for ice cream. Fay and her ice cream needed to get a room.
The next stop was ADS Hats. Pete had been waiting nearly two years, I think, to get a specific fedora, so he was done quickly. Fay looked good in just about anything, but she settled on a nice little sun hat. There was much trying on of hats, and really, what do I know about hats? I cannot do justice to this whole scene. Let it be said that JZ is adorable, and we can move on to the part where a few of the dim-summers joined us. Anne W and...my memory isn't what it used to be, or perhaps it was just being fried by all the new people. I had given Anne directions on the phone because I at least had a better sense of where we were than Teppy. Let it be said that Anne is foamy, and we can move on to the part where we split up to get lunch on Pete's orders, but our group totally disobeys Pete's orders and checks out Paxton Gate.
Paxton Gate is a very odd little shop that sells animal skulls, among other things. I thought Melanie would like it. There were also rocks and gardening tools and pretty flowers and rat skeletons dressed up like vampires. Yeah. It was a strange little place.
Next door was the famed 826 Valencia, the writing workshop disguised as a pirate store. The inside was very pirate-y, though it was smaller than I was expecting. I was amused by the sorts of things they were selling, the sorts of things people would actually spend money on, like "bits of pirate beard" and "pirate teeth" and "lard."
We delinquents still needed lunch, however. Fay had been quite taken with the Irish pub across the street because it was called Phoenix. I didn't understand at first, but she later clarified that, duh, b.org was officially called The Phoenix Board. So it was very Buffistappropriate.
As there were no objections—that it served alcohol was a plus—we got a booth. Our waitress was very cute in a Mandy Moore kind of way. She took drink orders. Pretty much the only thing on the menu I could eat was a chargrilled chicken sandwich, but it looked good. I pointed out that it came with bacon, which was also listed as an "additional item" I could pay for, just like guacamole, so could I...switch them? She smiled and said she did that all the time, it was no problem. I liked her! I asked her to explain what "tay-tos" were, and she said they were like lightly fried potato skins, and I am a sucker for any sort of "food unique to the establishment," so I gave them a try. Fay and Emily ordered a plate of tay-tos for themselves, and when our waitress—whose name may have been Sarah? I will call her Sarah—discovered it was their first time, she said she'd bring out some garlic aioli as well. We had no idea what it was, but it sounded good.
And it was good. Very tasty, and when we told Sarah we'd liked the garlic aioli, she did the cutest little celebration dance.
My sandwich was good as well. Really good, actually. The chicken was chargrilled with a hint of lime, and it was so damn tasty. Probably one of the best chicken sandwiches I've ever had. I must get it again sometime.
I didn't really participate in the lunch conversation, but I listened. It was all about Catholicism and the Anglican Church and Christianity and sects and all sorts of things I didn't know much about. Emily asked me if I had any religion stories, and I could probably think of some, but I wasn't really in the mood, so I just said no.
Fay and I had wanted to attend the vidfest at 4, and it was already 4, so we needed to book it. Everyone put in however much money they thought they owed, which added up to a very large tip for Sarah, so some money was taken back, leaving her with only a slightly large tip. She'd earned it, anyway.
Fay chugged a bottle of pear cider. It was amusing.
The other party had returned to the rendezvous point, so we told them of our plans before we left. I led Fay and Anne back to BART. On our way out of the Civic Center station, a woman passed by Fay and remarked, "You look like a queen, darling!" She did look quite regal.
Fay stopped in her tracks and exclaimed, "Bless the lady!" I love Fay. She has this wonderful joie de vivre that I admire in people even though I can never feel it for myself.
We made it back to the HS in time to have missed nearly all the vids. Bollocks. We caught some fun Angel/Spike ones and a sad Wes/Lilah one. The vidfest, suggested by Consuela, was being run by one Laura Shapiro, who I understood was a well-known vidder. She was not a Buffista, but this weekend, she was definitely an honorary Buffista. And pretty, but I'll bet she's that every weekend.
There was a ten-minute break during which either -t or EpicTangent recognized me by the fact that I was wearing a Tegan and Sara shirt. So that was funny.
Then came the main event: a showing of Scooby Road, Luminosity's Buffy vid to Abbey Road. I had heard a lot about it, so it was great to be able to see it for the first time with a group of dozens of other Buffy fans. It was very, very well done, I must say. At the base level, it was fourteen well done vids all in a row. Each one was perfectly matched to the song, and each one was consciously constructed around a theme, and the editing and visual juxtaposition went beyond the superficial. One aspect I found interesting was that it assumes a knowledge of the show; many of the key shots are left out, leaving the viewer to fill in the blank for himself. It ends up being more powerful that way. I didn't cry, but I appreciated the artistry and craft, and I enjoyed the vid as a whole.
After the vidfest, there was general pre-dinner mulling around. I had just had lunch a few hours ago, so I wasn't looking for a large dinner. One group invited me to come with them to CPK, but that was more filling and more expensive than I wanted at the moment. And before I knew it, the suite had pretty much cleared out completely, and I was left alone to fend for myself. I was a little miffed, but I also thought I could really use the alone time because, geez, SO MANY PEOPLE.
I walked up and down Market looking for a cheap place to eat. I had had Mexican the night before and a sandwich for lunch, so I decided Chinese was the way to go. The combination Chinese/donut place on the corner of Market and 7th looked promising, but I kept walking toward the porn district in case I found something better.
Amusingly enough, I recognized Vortex from the back, so I walked beside her and said, "Well, this is a coincidence." She didn't hear or respond, so I snapped my fingers in front of her face. She turned to look at me, startled, and said, "Well, that was creepy." I think she was with...Raquel. They were looking for a mysterious and powerful object whose mystery was exceeded only by its power. Or contact solution, whatever.
I ran into them again on my way back down the sidewalk, and Vortex said they were looking for a CVS or something. I told her there was a Walgreens on Market and 9th, and she thanked me. Fear my local knowledge!
I went back to the Chinese/donut place and ordered the orange chicken combo with chow mein. The woman gave me a ton of noodles, so I hoped she wouldn't skimp on the chicken. I took my food back to the HS since I knew there was 7up around. Also, since there was no one else around, I could put in Sports Night to watch with dinner. I chose "Thespis." As it turned out, I should not have feared the skimping because my dinner was more filling than I'd intended, and even though I could have stopped eating, I felt obligated to eat it all since I had, you know, paid for it. And it was good.
After dinner, I changed into my prom outfit, which was not very elaborate or special. Then I trolled the makeup room and saw the illustrious K-Bug, daughter of Suzi. Juliana was making Kristin even prettier, which is difficult to do, given how high her baseline is. "Sway" played on smonster's computer. Everyone was getting ready, so I flitted back and forth between the HS and the makeup room to pass the time. The time that eventually became 9 o'clock, at which the open bar would start. Juliana was taken completely by surprise when I informed her of this, and she made a mad dash to get herself ready to consume copious amounts of alcohol.
I went down to examine the room reserved for prom. Deb's husband was setting up the sound system in front of the dance floor, and the food and beverages were lined up along the wall.
Prom was a four-hour spectacle best related in incoherent moments with very little temporal significance. Cut me some slack.
I think I'll just lump all the costume talk together and note that everyone looked fabulous. Particular shout-outs go to Consuela and Laura Shapiro, who looked very sophisticated with their boa and long gloves, respectively. Nutty's lovely green dress was simple but elegant. Kristin's PVC skirt was wicked hot. I don't even know if Jilli changed. Nicole's corset...well, you know corsets. Everyone looked fab, the end.
I did not dance initially because I do not dance, but I watched people flail around to "I Want Candy." I have a particularly fond memory of Laura Shapiro throwing her hands and feet out like there was no tomorrow. Look at her, she's dancing crazy! I made it a point to tell her how incredibly adorable she looked. I did not tell her that I bet that she looked good on the dancefloor, dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984 (from 1984!).
Only at Buffista prom would you hear "I Wonder Why the Wonderfalls."
Someone introduced herself to me as Amy. Which didn't help because there are FIFTEEN THOUSAND Amys on b.org. Then she clarified that she was AmyLiz, and a hug ensued.
At 10, smonster belly-danced for us. First, she danced to a traditional song, and that was cool, as I had not seen much belly-dancing. I mused that all the women who strive to be stick-thin are depriving themselves of the ability to belly-dance. Because you can't belly-dance if you don't have a belly! You can gyrate all you want, but it's just not the same. Would Juliana stick money in your waistline? I don't think so! Okay, she probably would. Oh, there was a beautiful moment when someone from the kitchen staff walked out, saw smonster dancing, and just put her hands to her mouth in utter surprise. After the traditional song, however, another one began playing. I recognized the opening chords of "Touched," by VAST, and wondered if there were some mistake. But no. She was going to belly-dance to this song. Holy fucking sweet. She gyrated and waved her veil and owned the floor like nobody's business. It was quite clearly a highlight of the weekend, if not, I don't know, my life. It was something so unexpected yet unexpectedly perfect.
Soon after, Jilli took ownership of the floor, but not on purpose. "The Chauffeur" came on, and she began to swoop, and everyone simply got out of the way to make room for her. Swooping Jilli is a sight to see, I tell you. It was unlike anything I'd seen before. And that is what I love about Buffistas; each one is so unique and special and you can't imagine another person being even close to exactly like them.
I pseudodanced to "Closer" because I love the song, and by pseudodanced I mean I walked around to the music and mouthed the lyrics and made motions with my hands to the beat because I am cool like that.
Nutty would have none of this pseudodancing business. I do not remember when or why or to what song, but she grabbed my hands and gave me instructions. Apparently, dancing involves waving your arms up and down. She brought us into waltzing position, despite the lack of waltz music, and told me where to put my hands and feet. After a few steps, she told me I was supposed to lead, and I tried. Then she told me to dip her, and I tried. We broke apart and did the wavy thing again, and I took the opportunity to spin around. She was pleased that I was getting the hang of it. Throughout the night, we danced to several more songs, and it was very fun. I think we waltzed to Eminem.
Somehow a tiara ended up in my hand, so I put it on.
In the back, as Nutty drank some water, she said that she'd come to embrace alcohol for its ability to lower your inhibitions and allow you to have fun. I, on the other hand, manage to lower my inhibitions by pretending they're not there for enough time to break through that threshold. The Prodigy just said, "Fuck 'em, and their law," and that's pretty much how I deal with them: fuck 'em, and the rest comes easy.
Sean! We were all excited to see Sean, who was going to come but then couldn't make it but then found a way to make it up for prom. And he brought his lovely girlfriend in her awesome coat and hat. The three of us chatted while sitting at the tables. Sean introduced me as someone he'd bonded with over our shared having-lived-in-Ann-Arborness. We didn't get to talk a lot, but it was cool to finally meet him.
I asked Raquel how Mal was. I hoped A) I was talking to Raquel and not Nicole and B) Raquel was the one with a baby named Mal and not Robin. So many people! Raquel is stunning, by the way. It does not come off in pictures, but for some reason, in person, she just...stuns you.
Consuela and Laura and Fay and others had gone back up to the HS to watch some more vids, so I paid them a visit. I got to see one of Laura's vids, which cleverly centered around an automobile theme. "Nice," I said to myself when it was over. She turned around and thanked me. Hee. I was too embarrassed to expound upon what I thought was clever. Live feedback to the vidder! Aaaahh!!
Downstairs, MM was wearing a candy bra. No shame, people. The man has no shame.
In another highlight of the weekend, JZ grabbed me from my chair so we could dance to "Ana Ng." It was cute and fun. Later, Hec remarked, in the way that Hec remarks, "You looked very cute dancing to They Might Be Giants with my wife."
The night was winding down. We took care of the poor people who were experiencing Too Much Candy.
The final song was a "Time Warp" remix, and I watched everyone do the Time Warp again. And again. And again.
I gave Nutty a hug and thanked her for being my dance instructor. After all, she was 85% of the reason I'd enjoyed prom as much as I had. She smiled and you're welcomed me.
The party continued in the HS, but I was rather tired. I don't remember much of note except for yet another highlight, which was listening to Nora babble on the patio. She told me that she really appreciated my VM posts, that she was really glad I loved the show as much as she did. She said a lot, and I wish I could remember it all, because it was so sincere and so sweet, and while I was caught off-guard because we weren't that close and I didn't think she'd ever commented on one of my VM posts before, I was pleased that I'd had such a positive effect on her because, well, that's the only reason I'm alive, really, to affect other people. She apologized for babbling, but I would have none of it. Like I said before, I still have a hard time accepting compliments, but that doesn't mean they don't mean a whole hell of a lot to me. So thank you, Nora. In exchange, have a compliment: you're even cuter in person.
Hugs and goodbyes followed. Many of these people seemed to care about me way more than I deserved, given our level of interaction. You can never really tell online because the intangibles are indiscernible. You have the text. You have the content of the text, the frequency of the text, and in some cases, the icon associated with the text. The Internet is so damn vast. How can you find the emotional energy to care about all the people what need caring about?
I did not die on the drive home.
On Sunday morning, I was so tired I considered skipping the BBQ at Deb's. But there were people I wanted to see one more time before they left, so I braved the serpentine route. The radio played "Ana Ng" on the way. Seriously.
I could hear people behind the gate, so I knew I was at the right place. I think it was smonster who commented on my shirt when I walked in, asking which pirates were supposed to be going. Neptune Pirates, I answered. She should have known, she lamented before admiring the logo. I love when people comment on my shirts. What's the point in wearing cool shirts if no one notices?
I was hungry, so I went to grab some grub. There was chicken and giant mushrooms. I noticed Juliana and smonster were both wearing shirts that read "bite me," which did not help dispel the notion that they were sisters.
The chicken was quite yummy. Conversation this meal was about VM fandom. For some reason, "The Liberation" came up, which means missdeviant and buffyx are totally Internet-famous.
Rain forced us inside, unfortunately. I continued to explain to smonster about my mix CDs. She looked through my CDs and got the sneaking suspicion that I like Of Montreal. We expressed shared dismay at not getting into the Sneaker Pimps, like, ten years ago. Same with Poe.
The next topic was that pop culture conference where someone presented a paper about VM, Buffy, and Third-Wave feminism. But smonster declared that the dude didn't know shit about any of those three topics (I forget the ridiculous reason he thought Duncan had broken up with Veronica, but it was clear his understanding of the show was...not very good). I asked her if he'd mentioned the fact that Veronica started out as a guy in Rob's next novel, which you would think come up in a discussion of what a strong female character Veronica is. But smonster didn't even know that. I was so used to people very into the fandom who knew all this trivia. Vortex agreed, noting that she was the same way with Buffy. She would often have to take herself out of conversations because she knew that the other party didn't have a clue what they were talking about.
We put on Dress to Kill, although the sound would sometimes go out due to the cat behind the DVD player. I still haven't seen it in its entirety, but I've seen many funny parts.
At some point, Deb was serving a strawberry torte with ice cream, and she said, "Let's give P-C his," and it still throws me when people call me an online name in meatspace. It's cool and amusing, too, but it's also strange. Especially because Deb had referred to me by name earlier in the weekend. It's an interesting phenomenon, and I don't know that it's useful to understand the distinction because I'm not sure you can. Besides, Deb can call me whatever she wants, given the amount of work and hospitality she put into the weekend.
Jilli was also in the kitchen. "You always look permanently confused by me," she said. I couldn't help it. "You look like you stepped out of a book," I said. I couldn't imagine that someone could and would dress like that every single day, but now I also could not fathom Jilli in jeans and a T-shirt. It simply does not compute.
Time passed. People came and left, left and came.
I got to hear Emma finally say Kristin's name, after she'd been trying to get her to say it for a year. My name, on the other hand, was pronounced, "Go away!"
The baseball crowd arrived in time to keep me from leaving. I cuddled with JZ, who is very cuddly. I told her that "Ana Ng" had come on the radio. "It's our song!" I said.
Since I was told it wasn't spoilery at all, I watched the "Carry On My Wayward Son" Supernatural previously montage. It does look like a pretty cool, fun show where people get pinned to the ceiling and set on fire.
When amyth was leaving I was determined to pass on the compliment that had been sitting in my head since I saw her, which was that she had awesome hair. I told her so, and she said, "Wow, no one's ever told me that before!" And for several seconds, I thought she was being sarcastic and mocking me and I was very confused, but she was serious. I could not believe it, because her hair is awesome! It's just a few streaks of brown in the front, but it works so well! I loved her entire look, really. The full amyth aesthetic. She was so happy about her hair now.
Departures were becoming more frequent. Fay was packing madly. Since her luggage was lying around and I had nothing to do, I carried it down the stairs. When she noticed, she delightfully announced her intention to kidnap me. I brought down her other bag as well. Downstairs, she proclaimed me the loveliest lovely person who lived in Lovelyville. Which, hee. She told me to look her up if I were in Bangkok, as that was her next teaching post after she left Cairo.
After most people left, Deb's house was quiet, and Nutty attemped to intellectually analyze fandom interaction, and that was just too much for me, so I left. Okay, I was going to leave anyway, but it's more fun to blame Nutty.
And that, for me, was the end of it.
I had a wonderful time meeting so many of my favorite online peeps. I didn't get to spend nearly enough time with anyone at all, but that's always the way with these things. Just as well, maybe, because I felt like I was disappointing as a person. I don't think I said a single witty or interesting thing all weekend. Don't believe the hype: I'm way cooler online.
But I look better in a tiara offline.