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telarynor, "if my hand ends up in your crotch, I apologize in advance."
Wow.
Got home about an hour and a half ago from the first Dragoncon in nine years where I played instead of working my ass off. This? Is a convention you need to train for. I walked endless miles, got seriously dehydrated, ran the emotional gamut from bliss to devastation, and in retrospect wouldn't trade a bit of it for anything.
Okay, strike that. If I could do it *without* the stupid drunks at the Pirate Party (not the two captains that might be reading this you understand...the *stupid* drunks), I would happily make that trade.
And actually getting to *sing* karaoke. Next year I think I want to check out Klingon Karaoke. There might not be sake', but getting to sing would be less complicated. (And this is not a slam on your organization skills,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
happygoth, so *shh*! Shit happens, particularly when you're trying to herd cats.)
The most overwhelming part of the weekend was undoubtedly the freedom.laughingimp and I went to a concert Thursday night featuring the Rum Runners and Emerald Rose, and sitting there listening to Queen of Argyll I started to cry. Emerald Rose's music is so powerfully beautiful under ordinary circumstances - but sitting there with laughingimp and bard_wench I couldn't think of anything I'd rather be doing or anyone I'd rather be doing it with.
I was blissfully happy. And based on how the rest of the weekend spun out, this is apparently an emotion I'm still somewhat leery of trusting. A point which was driven home on Monday - *again* by Emerald Rose - during their last concourse show. "Freya Shakti" set me off on another round of tears...culminating in a rather profound (for me) spiritual experience.
Now I just need to figure out if the lesson will stick this time, or if I'm still riding the Goddess' short bus.
(More later...I promise. Things are just getting a little distracting around here right now.)
Wow.
Got home about an hour and a half ago from the first Dragoncon in nine years where I played instead of working my ass off. This? Is a convention you need to train for. I walked endless miles, got seriously dehydrated, ran the emotional gamut from bliss to devastation, and in retrospect wouldn't trade a bit of it for anything.
Okay, strike that. If I could do it *without* the stupid drunks at the Pirate Party (not the two captains that might be reading this you understand...the *stupid* drunks), I would happily make that trade.
And actually getting to *sing* karaoke. Next year I think I want to check out Klingon Karaoke. There might not be sake', but getting to sing would be less complicated. (And this is not a slam on your organization skills,
happygoth, so *shh*! Shit happens, particularly when you're trying to herd cats.)The most overwhelming part of the weekend was undoubtedly the freedom.
laughingimp and I went to a concert Thursday night featuring the Rum Runners and Emerald Rose, and sitting there listening to Queen of Argyll I started to cry. Emerald Rose's music is so powerfully beautiful under ordinary circumstances - but sitting there with laughingimp and bard_wench I couldn't think of anything I'd rather be doing or anyone I'd rather be doing it with.I was blissfully happy. And based on how the rest of the weekend spun out, this is apparently an emotion I'm still somewhat leery of trusting. A point which was driven home on Monday - *again* by Emerald Rose - during their last concourse show. "Freya Shakti" set me off on another round of tears...culminating in a rather profound (for me) spiritual experience.
Now I just need to figure out if the lesson will stick this time, or if I'm still riding the Goddess' short bus.
(More later...I promise. Things are just getting a little distracting around here right now.)
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3/9/08 04:50 (UTC)