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So, I'm on business travel and I get out of the cab and walk into the… - It seemed like a good idea at the time... [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

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[Sep. 4th, 2012|10:25 pm]
So, I'm on business travel and I get out of the cab and walk into the hotel, and by the time I reach the top of the escalator to check in, I'm thinking, wait, what's wrong here. Or right? Why does everyone in the hotel (a large one in a major metro area) seem so damn familiar? And I'm trying to figure out why there is a preponderance of beards/facial hair, tats, long hair, and well, a larger number of people of generous proportions than one is wont to see in an urban not-cheap hotel. Wait, did I walk into a plainclothes renaissance faire? And I look up at the events board and see "Filking, 8pm, Blue Room, Level One" And then I look harder, and start reading the t-shirts and that's when I realize: I've landed in the middle of ChiCon.

(Filking, btw, being the DIRTIEST sounding word for something that is not dirty. Although now that I've finished typing this, I can already hear the keyboards clicking as you, my nearest and dearest, hustle to make filking seem tame.)

It made me a little sad to to be stuck in business meetings all day with no time to sneak off to something nerdy. But later that evening, after dumping my colleagues, I meandered back to the hotel's Irish pub, fell in with some Australians...and well, never mind. Much beer was drunk, and apparently having an accent that zigzagged from Basic Faire to Strine to Lucky Charms to Pirate to New England means you don't have pay for your drinks. And somewhere I have a damp cocktail napkin with an address in New South Wales I'm always welcome at. But it made getting up at 5am for the next day's meetings a leetle painful.

Hey, what if they took all the money that's being spent on the two national conventions where nothing is decided that isn't already decided, and no one is convince of anything but of how right they've always been about whatever side they're already on, and spent that on reducing the national deficit. Or helping poor people. Or rebuilding our crumbling infrastructure. That'd be cool.

I now have cried three times at the Oz leaves Willow episode of Buffy the Vampire. Once, years ago when I first saw it. Then again two weeks ago, which was the last time I had time to sit and watch anything. And tonight during the special features when they showed a quick clip of him explaining that he has to leave.

When I was younger, I convinced my best friend and my younger brother that I was actually a vampire and that my brother was a werewolf, but it wouldn't show up until he was older. I got in a lot of trouble for that, although I've forgotten what community service my mother devised as punishment. I still say that I shouldn't have gotten in trouble for being compelling. If you're going to be that gullible, well, then. Besides, my brother grew up a healthy skeptic and I HELPED.

Had a bit of a candy bar leftover from last week's road trip that I'd put in the fridge to chill a bit since it had gotten warm in the car. Bonus! Except when unwrapping it tonight to take just a little bite...I managed to flick a shard of chocolate at high velocity into my left eye. That'll be great tomorrow: "No, it's not pinkeye, I just got chocolate in my eye."

Today I put a reminder on my calendar: seriously, it IS a good idea to take one day of Labor Day weekend off just to catch up. Because getting up at 2am, stumbling downstairs to throw a load of laundry in so that by the end of the week your costuming will all be clean again, plus you can change the sheets and towels and have clean socks again...is a stupid way to live.

[User Picture]From: barbmg
2012-09-05 12:57 pm (UTC)
Ahh! Some of our bestest friends were at ChiCon this weekend! (they were probably in the bar at the same time.) It's a shame there was no chance to connect you guys, but it sounds like you fell in with a fun bunch anyway.
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[User Picture]From: russell_moore
2012-09-05 06:01 pm (UTC)
ah yes ... filking

did you know the origin of the word filk was a typo of folk that was simply adopted and redefined for its purpose?

I tend to randomly make up lyrics to songs for my own amusement ... sometimes it has residual consequences, whereupon I am thwacked in the head because someone accuses me of ruining one of their favorite songs because now all they hear are my lyrics in their head

I accept those thwacks with a devious smile
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