2004 Montreal Con Journal

My con experience, as with most who travel by caravan, starts a bit before the actual con dates.

It started with a couple small problems; I can’t fly on an airplane until I get this little “has seizures and blacks out on planes” thing looked at and hopefully fixed; Aaron didn’t have time to renew his passport, and Revel wound up promising both him, Mara, Greg B. and Alex a ride to the con along with Spacebabie, in a car that only seats four. About that time, Emambu offered/was convinced to drive from Pittsburgh to Kansas City and pick me up. Deciding that 1) Pittsburgh wasn’t too bad a place for a layover from the Texas contingent, and 2) Revel didn’t especially want to navigate New York alone, never having driven in the state, we wound up using Pittsburgh as a crash point for one night (well, morning as it turned out), and both vehicles- Emambu, Aaron, Mara, and myself in the Mafia Cruiser, and Spacie and Revel in his Hyena- would travel together to get the Bishansky brothers, and take another night there before heading up to Montreal.

There was also some juggling of luggage, mostly me leaving most of my stuff- not planning to return to KC until some time in September, I’d had to pack for a full summer, and somewhere along the line decided that being separated from the hub of my communications, art, writing, and research for over two months was too long. Add in I was already traveling in a car with huge trunk space, and that I wasn’t entirely comfy in leaving it alone in my apartment for two months, I wound up bringing my entire computer set-up (sans printer) with me.

So Thursday we take of from Greg’s mother’s house, and are Montreal-bound. Today’s trip wasn’t much different than the previous day, with Aaron and Emambu indulging in sports-conversations, and an uninterested Mara and I in the back seat, dozing and working on art. I’d called for a stop at the nearest home-depot-esque store to pick up a few more supplies for my costume, and indulged in a lot of wire-wrapping of sections of chicken wire together for my vastly-unfinished costume.

During the con, I wound up re-living my 2002 position of holing up in my hotel room for half the con, missing both the radio play and several panels I wished to see, working on a costume that I didn’t finish nearly to my standards but wore anyway, and which people seemed impressed by. Of course, while I automatically jump to my own laziness as an excuse for this, it isn’t really true. Both times I had pressing school issues- 2002 I’d gone to Germany on a school trip for credit, and had to mail my costume home as I couldn’t lug it around eastern Europe. I left that trip two days earlier to make the con. This time, it was finishing up the last credits I needed to complete my double-major- with the class ending on July 28^th- and packing up my apartment, since I wouldn’t be back until I came through to add everything to the moving truck I’d be bringing my Maryland property with, en route to a final destination in Texas. Both, sadly, ranked ahead of my costume in things I had to focus on- and even then I’d only had time to start Ophelia on July 3^rd.

Besides, there was always the next years…

Anyway, after a while the conversation shifted a bit; some was centered around the webcomic Jack, and a long debate about the nature of its anthropomorphic reality. More was fic-related, since all four of us are/were fic writers…or at least, fic procrastinators. Before hitting Pittsburgh, the Texas contingent had come up with a new game to pass the time, called “Fate”, which we indulged in for a while. Each person takes a turn in picking a canon character, and each time around everyone explains what happened to that character in their own world. Eventually this dissolved into fic-talk (my favorite pastime) and some TGS-related discussions. This would not be the first time such a topic came up during the con. ; )

I, sadly, had no more chances to sing, as Emambu had given into my request for lessons on the ride up from Kansas City, and I spent a large portion of that trip butchering Melissa Etheridge and listening in awe to Emambu’s talent when it came to a best-of Van Morrison album.

Anyway, it was bordering dusk when we hit Canada, and the fic chatty was still going strong. We cross the border with ease- if over an hour’s wait- but have to pull off at the first opportunity when it is realized that no one has the directions from the border to the hotel. Between 411 and a helpful native, we were on our way…only to be further diverted by more road construction. We reach the hotel, unload at the front, and I check in. New experience for me, and considerably easier than I was worried it could be. There are a number of our age/type people hovering about in the lobby, and I get some help in carting everything up to the room. Come back down to mingle after finding said room to be satisfactory…if tricky to get into.

I recognized Leo, and managed to correctly place another girl- whom I’d only met briefly at 2001- as Chyna Rose. She, Mara and I, and one who I absolutely did not recognize as Silver despite a long art-related chat in ’02, sat down to stretch out and talk. Talk at this point mostly revolved about interesting quirks in finding the hotel, pet cats, and Wolverine. Others drifted in, most of which I’d never met in person. This included Chameleongirl, whom I know from LiveJournal, and the Sadistic Cow, who I know from the one Gargoyles fic that actually gave me nightmares as well as from Mooncat’s forum. Didn’t really chat with either of them much during the con; sorry guys.

About that time the caravan that included Chris, Hudson and Ethan showed up, and I wasted no time in pouncing Ethan over the matter of my furry feet, which I was forced to leave with him in New York and had been assured, repeatedly, would be returned to me at the con. I was really really looking forward to being reunited with them, my first attempt and surprising success at gargie feet, but that didn’t happen; in an apartment the size of a breadbox, they had proved unfindable.

I’m really going to miss those feet. : (

And while I’m busy sulking about that, Aaron wanders away from where he’d been chatting with Chris, comes up to me and says, “I’m in”.

To which I, knowing he couldn’t possibly mean 2005 con staff since his insistence post-2003 that he’ll never get within 300 feet of being on a con staff again and Mara’s equal insistence that she would gut anyone who attempted anyone who attempted to convince him otherwise with a plastic spork, cleverly respond:

“What?”

“Treasurer. For 2005. Chris talked me into it.”

“What? HOW???”

“I’m not sure.”

I notice at this point Mara is talking to Chris, and no sporks seem present. It takes me a while to process this, so it’s a full three minutes later, after I’ve gone back to chatting with Silver about art stuff, that I turn back to where Aaron is talking to Hudson’s group and yowl a “Are you insane?!?”

Aaron: “What?”

Me: “…nothing.”

Time passes, and the (rather large) group that had accompanied the con staff and Greg Weisman out to dinner return; it may have been after midnight by then. Anyway, an all new round of greetings goes on, of which I am only peripherally part of as I either don’t know, or am severely intimidated by, most of those who just showed up. I should also take this time to point out that I was at the con ingocnito- as myself. About three months earlier I’d needed hair for an art project, right then, and lopped off my ponytail to use. I’d cut it back further in the tweening months, so for the first time since I was seven I had hair that didn’t reach my shoulders. Second, I was wearing contacts instead of my usual (darkly tinted) glasses. It had taken Hudson until after I started talking for him to recognize me, and Kaelyan about five minutes after that. (Kathy Pogge didn’t for over a day, but then, she had far less reason to than either of the guys.)

But Greg Weisman knew in two seconds flat, and gave me a hug as well. So there’s a group of over twenty fans carousing in a mass of sub-groups chatting right in front of the hotel doors for about half an hour before people start begging off and heading to bed. The ones left eventually decided to move out of the middle of the lobby walkway- where everyone tended to gravitate to throughout the con- over to the couches, and all we sat down and chatted for a bit.

The group broke up, and I worked on my costume while Aaron and Mara went to sleep, and for a couple hours after that.

Friday

Was woken up by Mara getting back to the room from a venture out, and the notification that my reputation as a Scary Fangirl (tm) had apparently preceded me. I, naturally, took this entirely out of proportion and spent the morning avoiding two of my fanfic heroes less I do something to confirm the fact. (Easy to do with the whole “incognito” thing; I had to pass within two feet of them on a couple occasions in the crowd). We hit registration and got our con goodies; and as further proof that Chris has the powers of mesmerism, Aaron was convinced to sign up for the Clan Olympics 2005 staff team. (If there is one thing he hates more than participating in a sport, it’s participating in a team sport.) They needed a fourth, and I’d already begged off for the fact I had a costume to finish (again). So Mara wound up in the last position, whereupon I think something along the lines of “Well, I guess you’re Staff now” was then said. We haven’t eaten yet, and as we run into Hudson’s group and Cat’s Crew we learn they have not either. So we all decide to go out for lunch, with a few other random fandomites also in search of sustenance. About seventeen of us arrive at this café, see that they are packed and turn to leave when (the manager?) comes out and says there is room enough for us all at the outside tables, and the service is fast…won’t we stay?

We do, and the service was fast, and the food was good and inexpensive. I had a gyro, and sat and chatted with Chris while Cat pulled my arm out at a funky angle and spent about ten minutes fixing the carpal tunnel that had started to develop in my right hand. (Thank you again, Cat; I haven’t had so much as a twinge since.)

Emambu and I and a couple other slipped back to the con early, wanting to catch the Voice Acting Seminar (another panel I have never quite made it to.) It was good; Emambu and Revel were great reading out Lex and Brooklyn’s lines from one scene, and whomever did Griff’s lines from that bit of M.I.A.

I’d almost worked up the courage to volunteer for a reading when the camera crew showed up. Now, the thought of making the attempt in front of the crowd was already enough to give me a minor difficulty in breathing; there was no way I was going to embarrass myself on film to boot, even with the general assurance that it wouldn’t make it onto the DVD.

It was a good panel; I’d like to see what it’s like with more presenters. It ends, and I am temporarily stunned by the fact that Ethan seems to have sprouted a smaller, paler, female version of himself, and hadn’t noticed. I go over to the girl because reality demanded it, and tap her on the shoulder. This turned out to be White Avator, one of the fandom’s artists. I sneak off then to work on my costume (I have a very strong memory here of chipping off an extraneous chunk of glass in time to Mellencamp’s “Rain on the Scarecrow” playing on my walkman) and remain there until I am dragged down to Opening Ceremonies. (I knew what time it started; I just didn’t realize that time was already upon me.) Three seats were supposed to have been saved by our friends in the second row; somehow things got mixed up, and there were only two. Mara opted to sit in the row directly behind, so I sat between Aaron and a girl who turned out to be Mercedes.

Didn’t take me long to realize that the two people sitting almost directly in front of me were Dylan and his fiancée, Stormy. Attempts to return a greeting were dismembered by Aaron suddenly attempting to display his sense of humor with something that involved a Vulcan pincer grip and the back of my neck…and then the show, as it were, was on.

Current Staff was introduced, leaving not a few of us deeply impressed that Karine could Chair a con while THAT much pregnant. Greg Weisman got up to talk, which resulted in a quote from the con that seems to live in infamy right next to “mommy, what’s a con virgin?”

Greg had made a comment about how after this many years, he doubted the fandom had anything left that didn’t have his signature on it, but if anything was left…

Cat’s immediate response was, “Sign my Grandma!”

Greg looked at a loss for words, which was funny in its own right even though he didn’t deliver what I thought was the obvious response of: “Bring her to Vegas!” ; )

About then Abe and MAui stepped in with a surprise first event for the Gargie Olympics. About the time the walkway had cleared and they were counting balls, I slip off to the other side of the room to talk to whom I hoped (correctly) was Norcumi, whom I’d been keeping an eye open for. Kythera popped up minutes later and took the seat next to me, and…I cannot remember that conversation at all. um. *^_^*

About that time Chris is tapped to pitch 2005, and introduce his staff…which I get a surprisingly illustrious inclusion into. (hee, I felt special…) I watched Quindar (Norcumi’s s.o.) during most of this. He, heretofore, had been very much in doubt of some of the 2005 intentions and the staff’s ability to pull them off; by the time I got to speak to him about it that night, Quindar admitted to being impressed by the speil, as did Norcumi. (Both are shockingly cynical once you get to know them, and not terribly easy to impress. They are very helpful people to have playing the devil’s advocate for ideas.) My one odd-note-out about it was that, from where I was sitting, with the reddish long sleeves and the sharp claws and my inability to clearly see his facial features, the mascot looked unnervingly like Freddy Kreuger.

I get back to my original seat right when the lights are turned down for the “home videos” part of OC, and watched the faces of those around who, while hardly new to the fandom, had never attended a Gathering before. It was strangely gratifying to see their expressions; maybe it was knowing that I am not the only one drawn so deeply into the show. After that was the Atlantis ep “The Lost”, which I’d yet to hear. I liked it, although I had the misfortune of sitting in front of Rika as well as Mara and Cat, and…I think she tried to crawl into her own hat at one point. I could almost keep a straight face through the, er, more innuendo- accessible portions…but I couldn’t help but turn to see how Rika was handling it, and I just lost it after that. In front of me at the staff table, Siryn didn’t look like she was coping much better… ; )

(Of course, it wasn’t until after the con that we realized that “…all the grunts, groans, and gasps of combat being taken terribly out of context by our collective filthy, filthy little minds” (as Christine Morgan put it) the script actually *directs* the Voice Actors to sound that way at points, when we had a chance to sit down at Greg B.’s house and look at a copy.)

Opening Ceremonies end, and Aaron and I wind up talking to Mercedes for a bit. Enter here the discussion shifting to fellow writer Cyrway without Aaron or I directing it there. Sayeth Mercedes, “It’s good to know she still has fans as dedicated as you. As far as I know, there’s only one person out there who still writes to her about her Gargoyles fic.”

Us: “”oh?”

Mercedes: “Yeah, there’s a girl she found who does filks about her universe,”

Me : (thinking) oh cool, there is someone else writing Cyrway filks?

Me : ~ pause as reality kicks in ~

Me: “You mean…someone *besides* me?”

Mercedes : “What name do you post under?”

Me: “Lynati”

Mercedes: “Yeah, that’s the one.”

So. Yeah. She’s read them. And apparently doesn’t hate them. The One deigns to notice my work in Her name! (…ever had a running gag that lasted so long that you and your friends lost track of the line between the joke and reality? It’s a scary, scary thing. On that note, there really isn’t a 30-ft tall statue of Eddie of Winslow in Aaron’s backyard.) (Yet.)

I get rather distracted at this point, and miss/don’t recall much of the conversation that she and her brother have with Aaron at that point. I’m too busy bouncing around like the hyperactive fangirl I am.

I meant to work on the costume more from after OC to the start of the Blue Mug, but this wound up not exactly happening. First off, I was distracted by conversation with Hudson and Kaelyan in lower level for a bit, throwing in a “actually, I have a pair of pliers” to Kael’s comments about the so-far failed attempts to get the DVD player hooked to the TV. I promised to send them up; I had also promised to drop by to visit Cat’s Crew and have them around to chat to while I worked. I head upstairs, when I notice a fandomite drifting by herself; being someone who 1) values her own solititude at times and 2) has been left wandering for lack of anyone to hang with, I decide to by a good con-goer and strike up a conversation. This is Dancer, whose friends took off for dinner without her; I offer to let her come hang with me if she has nothing better to do, after I run a few errands. We head to Rika’s room first, were she and Cat are quickly embroiled in a metal-working conversation as I talk to Rika and Heccy. Eventually those still awake- ie, not Sammy or GE, who were also sharing room and ride- come up to my room. Dancer mentions wanting to call home but her phone not working, and I mention Hudson wanted it known that his satellite phone was available for such calls. I send her up with my pliers, which struck another thing off my list. Unfortunately, Dave and Heccy realize they are more of a distraction to my work than a help only 20 minutes before the Blue Mug, so I really only had about that much time for the costume. *sigh* Then again, I come to the con primarily to see my friends, not to be awed over at the masquerade. (Although I really do enjoy that, when I happens.)

I head up to the consuite, and have a chance to talk to Liz around then about turning in my AMV’s for the, which I was advised to do the next morning, early. (As it turned out, I wasn’t capable of upright motion for most of that morning, so I missed entering them entirely. Eh, for those who care- and have windows media player- they are posted at:

http://lynativerse.artchicks.org/Invincible.WMV

http://lynativerse.artchicks.org/PerfectDay(med).WMV

and the one I was forced to render in two parts:

http://lynativerse.artchicks.org/WarriorGoodbyeP1.WMV

http://lynativerse.artchicks.org/WarriorGoodbyeP2.WMV

I found myself staring again at the aptly-named White, who has hair so beautiful I could not resist asking to be allowed to pet it. (I’m not usually that touchy-feely with people I don’t know very well. The conventions have really helped improve my ability to handle social situations.) I liked the conversation; after all, the blue mug doesn’t *have* to be raunchy; it just is allowed to be. I managed a couple decent questions. (Forgetting one that came as a follow-up to one I’d recently gotten response to at Ask Greg; At the time of The Last, did Demona really believe she was the last gargoyle alive?) It ended late, and I again worked later- about 5am- on my costume, and gave myself my first hot glue burns of the weekend.

Saturday

I wake up, and it is Not Good. My usual con sickness- collectively caused by the sleep deprivation, food deprivation, running around, stress, and relationship issues which seem to come together EVERY Gathering- has made it’s first appearance. And then some. I beg off for the morning, asking Mara to send my regrets down to Chris, as I was supposed to help sit pre-reg. I got back to sleep, curled around the maelstrom in my guts, and when I finally get up things haven’t improved at all. And on top of that, one foot had settled itself into a pediac fetal position, and refused to straighten out; I couldn’t even feel half my leg at first. Some feeling crept back into my largest and smallest toe…unfortunately, that feeling was pain. I limped off to find Cat, only to find her not only sick herself but also at a loss of what to do when it comes to leg problems. She suspected I had pinched a nerve in my hip, and stretches of muscle groups besides my calf and foot did seem to help. I still spent most of the day feeling like I was doing an impression of Verbal Kint.

I manage to make it downstairs eventually, in time to meet up with Aaron and Mara as they went to be interviewed by the Video Crew. The interview is winding down when Aaron adds in, “…and I know Greg Weisman wanted me to show this…” and peels off his shirt to reveal the 8” color Demona he had tattooed there when he was 19. They wrap up, and Aaron helps me stumble off in search of food that I can keep down, and on our way out we run into Cat’s crew returning from brekky, and I somewhat brighten upon seeing Dancer still with them. We wind up in the train station next to the Tim Horton’s, at a passable sandwich place, and notice a Office Depot-type store nearby, and head over to it as I am looking for stands to hold some art (cast-glass versions of the 2004 mascot, which I referred to as the “Montreal Puppies”) that I’d made with the intent of giving to Karine and the special guests. We found something I figured would work, and bought a couple to try out. (They worked. I went back the next day and bought more. Montreal rain tastes awesome.)

After that was the great search for the home depot; Karine had given us good directions that Montreal’s one-way street deal utterly confused us on. The less said about that trip, the better, only thank you Revel for the loan of Hyena, and the HD people were actually very helpful.

So we get back to work on my costume. And…yeesh, I don’t want to even go into it. Emambu, Mara, and Aaron wound up doing a metric buttload of work for me, and injuries on the side, and I gave my uber-staplegun to Aaron, who had successfully managed NOT to staple the fabric into me through the small amount of plaster strapped to my back.

Thank you guys, thank you thank you thank you. And I promise I’ll be done with my costume months in advance from now on.

On the bright side, Emambu did do a short repisal of his Radio Play version of Jon Castaway, since I had missed it. Maaaan. Erik, dude, you seriously need to do more voice-acting related things.

By the time I make it down, half-finished, the masque itself is over…well, the judges are out for decision-making. However, my arrival seems to catch much attention, and I was stopped for a mass photo time, which pretty much made the whole thing worth it. As did my “best late arrival” honorable mention from Greg Weisman. Awards for the rest are given, and then someone dressed as the Hunter (Flanker, as it turned out) had me strangle him for a photo op. (I have no clue how those pics came out.) I talk to Loopy about his costume, muchly jealous… I think I’m pretty much going to have to cross-dress as Brooklyn for 2006 in order to beat that. (Yes, 2006. I have something else in mind for 2005.) Hung around, and met up with Norcumi and Quindar, once again promising that I’d shortly be available for them to kidnap away for a few hours. First there were a couple things I had to take care of…giving Greg one of the Montreal Puppies…and then there was a little incident with Emambu singing a filk I wrote, at the start of karaoke.

Scooted off after that- missing the YMCA thing, which after spending 2 months straight every summer for 11 years at a YMCA camp which considered that song (heh) something of a theme, I could have probably managed the lyrics decently- and spent the night talking to Norcumi and Quindar in their room. That conversation starting off with me being asked to explain the differences between the reality of First Born and real life. I suppose those of you who follow the comic might have been wondering as well, so I’ll just clear the air right now…yes, it’s true.

Cat really IS dating Cthulu.

Got back into the room a little after four in the morning, realized that I no longer had to work on a costume, and was happy. Then I realized I was skedj’d to co-present a panel the next morning, re-checked the time, and whimpered at the ten am slot. (why ten am? why Sunday morning? whhyyyyyyyy??? ; )

Sunday

Wake up to my own alarm clock and skiddadle off to co-host “Gargoyle Biology 101”, a sort of lesson in applied science. Or applied reality, as the case may be.

Mara got me a muffin, which I managed to nibbled the top off of while waiting for more people to show…we had a scant room at first, but fifteen minutes into the presentation the ranks had swelled to something respectable. Yggdrasil started off with a power-point presentation on genetics, a very well done one at that. It moved to me next, and my short focus on basics of anatomy, with an emphasis on gargoyle wing structure. (I’d like to see- or host- a panel some year that caters to the art side of how gargoyles are built.) It was also an excuse to show off some of my art, which I’d created for this very purpose (in school) in the first place…and the research of other knowledgeable fandomites I’d collected, Like Shadowriders’s “Gargoyles and Flight” document. The latter half was more opting answers to the audience’s questions, which were very good; Dylan fielded most of them, since he of all of us has the strongest (actual medical) background. Topics ranged from social aspects of the species impact on their biology to speculations on “real” causes of eye-glow, to…all sorts of stuff. Some slightly more earthy than I expected, but it was all fun. And I learned a few things myself. All three of us agreed that we’d like to see it relived (and improved) at Vegas, provided all can make the con.

I find it a bit amusing, in an odd fashion, the number of people who’ve referred to this as “Whit’s Bio Panel” in their con journal, especially after his own admission of not having time to do any prep work…not that I did much new for the con either, beyond grabbing the vast notebook I’d put together over the last school year. (Actually, until I got my schedule at registration, I wasn’t wholly sure that we were even going to *have* the panel.) Yggdrasil was definitely the one who was best prepared…

No, my “amusement” had far more to do with the fact that my name was left entirely off the header, when the panel was inspired by my running around last semester trying to draw people into discussing gargie bio to help me come to realistic conclusions for a project I was doing for school (Basework for my Senior Thesis, actually) and the panel partially my idea…Okay, it irks me. Yes, I *know* it wasn’t deliberate and there was far more to contend with than such a minor detail. It still irks. ; )

I can’t remember what happened between the end of the panel and closing ceremonies. I recall briefly looking in on both Kathy’s writing panel and Liz’s art one…wait, no, I remember. I spent it in the art room, which I had not yet seen, participating in the silent auction. (I won the only two I tried for, shocked that neither had bids; one was Kythera’s “the Storm” – both a print and original sketch- and a lovely watercolor Liz did of the three named Ishimuran clan members and their beast.) I also picked up a copy of the Phoenix Gate Anthology and a pin, and headed for the signing table. Talked to people, Liz and Eden and Karine some, and the signers, but mostly with Dylan and Stormy.

Closing Ceremonies came on, and then the guest signing. I ran up and got my Montreal Con shirt for Mara to get signed, and wandered around the room talking to people. (Again, mostly Dylan and Stormy, since I am nearly as fixated on their work and ability to write as I am on Cyrway’s, and they as people (and not just authors) are both imminently cool.) Mara grabs me to ask what I want Keith David to sign on my shirt, and after a minute of blanking on anything, ask that it be “munchies??” I drift off, and come back to find Mara had been asked to explain the context of such an odd quote…and Keith had been much humored by the story. (This being the “true story behind the Goliath CHRONICles”) I am talking to Karine at the back of the room, wavering over presenting the Montreal Puppy to Keith, and manage to just miss his initial reaction to Aaron’s tattoo, which he was again convinced to show. Around that point I go up, hand over the glass with a fairly brief explanation, and leave with Aaron before I can hold up the remainder of the line for too long.

The Official Meeting was after that; strange experience. (I agree with Quindar that KGB meetings are more entertaining. ; ) We’re gathered en masse for talkies a bit, and then came time to say goodbye to Cat, Rika, Heccy, and Dave, who all had to leave then. : (

Hudson and Aaron and many others decided to play laser tag, which I have always wanted to try, but really didn’t feel up to; I was assured everyone would be back in an hour or so. (It was five.)I spent the first two hours packing up my art mess and trying to convince Mara that she wasn’t wearing pants, and should put some on. (The fact that she was entirely clothed was a logic I simply ignored on the grounds that I was bored and she- being very tired and thus susceptible to my inanity- was entertaining.) I finished most of the clean on up and took pity on Mara, letting her nap, and wandered off to, well, wander. I ran into Norcumi and Quindar some time later, who had just left a note for me at the room. We circle the lobby several times before landing in the big comfy lobby chairs for me to wait for the return of the laser-taggers. At one point we pass Keith David and his wife coming out of the elevator, and I managed to put on a less-grumbly expression just in time to return his greeting.

The three of us sit and talk, eventually joined after an hour or so by Mara, and Emambu- who was crashing in our room that night. Ckayote and Greg Bishansky materialized and joined us until, an hour or so later, Aaron and the others showed up. And he brought pizza! We swapped stories with Norcumi and Quindar, who randomly took pictures as the night went on.

Monday

Slept well, very deeply, and was woken up by a voice in the room that wasn’t expected there; Siryn, in search of her missing wallet. It was later recovered, although not in the room. Being of no help and knowing it, I let sleep drag me back down right as she left. The second time I wake and there is an extra someone in the room, it turns out to be Ellen Stolfa, whom Emambu finally hunted down to sign his Anthology. There are about two seconds where I think, “oh good, nothing is on fire, I can go back to sleep” before recalling I really wanted her to sign mine as well…and I’d already packed it. Besides, I wanted to talk to her- I’d managed to miss her pretty much the entire con, and the same thing happened at ’03- and so managed to wake up enough to do so. I think I was officially up after that, and due to the one miscommunication in the Travel Plans side of things, I’d only gotten the room until Monday morning anticipating leaving that afternoon. We’d already taken care of that, having worked out with Revel and Spacie to crash their room for the last night, and so I started trucking my bags and boxes down to their room on the 7^th floor.

At some point during this move, Mara and Aaron woke up enough to pack, and with Emambu we got everything moved with no mishaps. Oh, I did have to spare a good 15 minutes to finish cleaning up the bathroom. The paint was the easy part, actually; it was the soft pastels that had turned to powder everywhere that were the problem.

I go check-out, and more or less stumble into Kathy then- she amidst a crew of her own, who tapered off while we talked until we were the only two in the walkway. Now, I hadn’t gotten to talk to Kathy much, outside of what con matters she helped with in 2003. Definitely my loss. Anyway, there was again a moment of “let’s move out of the middle of the walkway”. Talk at this point was focused on con stuff and the position the DVD might put Vegas in. She went off to do something, and I wound up talking with Flanker and IRC Goliath, whom we shortly learned the origination of “Team Canadian Body Massage” ‘s oh-so-original name from. For the unenlightened, it is from one of a collection of amusingly re-dubbed GI Joe Public Service Announcements. (He was nice enough to post the link in LJ for our perusal; it’s I think sixth or so down on the list. http://www.fenslerfilm.com/?sec=video )

The group doubled in size somehow, and next thing I know Emambu and I were giving Kathy a back massage. I got to talk to Flanker for a bit, and after Aaron showed up the conversation with Kathy turned back to con stuff for a while, but rapidly moved to fic. And lo, we were struck amazed, for here was someone who not only remembered what happened during season 1 of TGS, but *remembered why things were done the way they were!* A bloody revelation to those left with the chore of writing the last seasons of the Gargoyles Saga as we prepare to close down the project. Somehow Chris and Hudson and Kael materialized amidst this, along with Norcumi and Quindar, and suddenly there were umpteen conversations going on. I was pulled out of chat by Dancer for a twenty minute discussion, only to return and find the conversation was just returning to the point I had left it at. Surreal.

Hunger takes up, and those of us who are going out for food offer to pick up McDonald’s orders for those who aren’t. We make the mistake of ordering our own food to sit down instead of takeaway, and are an hour or so later in returning with feed for the others. …ooops…

We move up to the loft of the lobby for a bit, Aaron and I dragging Emambu into the ficcy talk with Kathy, until Chris and co. have to leave and the rest of us are too exhausted to stay awake much more. All of us opt to go back to the one room and hang out there for a while, and offer Mandi the same when we run into her, which she took us up on. We gather there for a while, lots of random storytelling, especially things involving cars and a great story Emambu has from a time his brother inadvertently caused the start of a mile back-up on both sides of the highway.

A good time was apparently had by all, although Kathy’s expression at nearly the whole room singing along- and keeping pace- with the entirety of Dennis Leary’s “The Asshole Song” was quite amusing in its own right.

But we couldn’t keep up the pace forever, and one by one people begged off for the night or fell asleep where they lay. A perfectly dead-dog way to end a wonderful weekend, and I only threw up twice during the con, which makes this the least vomitous Gathering I have been to.

Yaye Montreal!

And now it’s time to prep for staffing 2005; I’ve already started by updating the “tips for running a small con” advice piece that Aaron and I wrote after 2003; unfinished, it’s already blossomed into website proportions and has been accorded such. Con Planning 101 can be found at: http://lynativerse.artchicks.org/Fic/CP_TOC.htm

(For anyone who has useful things to add to this, feel free to throw them my way at Lynati_1@hotmail.com)

oh. one last thing. On the way back, the border directed our car over for inspection; the main inspector’s reaction to us: “…Kids.” Which was shortly followed up by a, “Hey, there’s a tail back here!” from the people looking in the trunk.

So, we get back on the road and Revel walki-talkie’s over, “What was the hold up?”

Aaron: “The border patrol was distracted by Lynati’s tail.” Much laughter all around, at my expense. *sigh*. It’s hard, being the butt of a joke…

-Lynati

Aug 29^th, 2004