What happened then...
Apr. 11th, 2002 09:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
khaosworksI'm not a conrep kind of person, so this isn't a conrep, just a summary of events that happened up to and including FKO. Every time people meet me they ask "How was the trip?" Which I understand why they ask the question, since it's the easiest one to do so, but it gets annoying after a while, because, fuck, it's a 24-hour journey from one side of the globe to the other stuck in economy class, so how could it possibly have been? So forgive me if I growl at you if you ever ask me that question in similar circumstances.
The trip was a bear, but American Airlines made it as pleasant as humanly possible to please someone as cantankerous as I am when it comes to travel. As usual, though, it was the drones in Narita, Tokyo that were unconvinced that Lilith could fit in an overhead. I was tempted to ask them, "Well, then, how did I get it from Singapore to Tokyo? Teleportation?" However, I just relinquished possession of her for them to see if it could fit into an overhead, and she passed the test, obviously.
It was snowing in Chicago. In April. Amazing. I watched, fascinated as the flakes of God's dandruff flitted down, pushed around by swirling winds in autumn leaf-like patterns. I strained to see the intricate crystalline structures, but only managed to see them for a split-second as individual flakes drifted close to the window, collided with them like on some kamikaze run, and melted into a drop of water pooling on the surface of the glass. I thought to myself about the old saying about how no two snowflakes are ever alike. Well, how the Hell can you tell? What's the statistical sampling on that one? Then I mentally slapped myself for thinking too much, as usual.
Dropped at Toronto, was picked up my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
camwyn and deposited at the con hotel without incident. It was late by the time I got there, so by the time I got showered, most people had gone to sleep. I sat in the con suite for a while, talking to Glenn Simser, Judith and Dave Hayman and the Gordon-Kerrs from the UK for a while, hugged Katy, Yooh and Rika as they were going off to bed, and then went to bed myself. It was about then that I discovered that the Canadians have a very different sense of what constitutes a "data port". I had inquired about it earlier, and was told that the rooms had data ports in them. When I hear the term "data port" I think to myself it's an Ethernet connection, rather like the ones at OVFF last year. Turns out for the Canadians, a "data port" is a phone outlet. And since I don't have a Canadian ISP, I'm kind of fucked. So much for the idea of updating folks live from FKO using Cassandra.
The next day I met up with Dan and Melissa Glasser at breakfast, said hello to Dave Clement and Tom Jeffers and assorted others like Spencer Love, Persis Thorndike and Talis Love. The Four Points Sheraton is a new hotel for FKO this year, and the food was much superior to the crap at the hotel last year. This was the first time I had Eggs Benedict, and man, it was really really tasty. The standard of food here would extend to the banquet the next evening as well.
Anyway, Dan, Melissa, Rika and I headed down to downtown Toronto (where it was also snowing!) and "World's Biggest Bookstore" where I had to restrain myself from buying shelf-loads of stuff. I had no more space in my luggage, really, and with the number of things in Atlanta that were waiting for me from Amazon.com I was thinking - and I still am - that getting an extra suitcase for the books would be a good idea.
I did succumb when it came to the DVDs, though, because even after accounting for the exchange rate, they're like ten Singaporean dollars cheaper than the ones I get back home. I got the Usual Suspects, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back special editions, the latest Roughnecks DVD and another DVD for a friend back home. I would have bought more except for the space constraints.
Anyway, shopping done - we returned to the con. I won't go into the details of what the con was - other people like Debbie Ohi have performed that function much more admirably that I every could. For me this was a relaxacon - after killing my voice and nearly myself at MilPhil, I needed a break from doing stuff. I deliberately had not signed up for any one-shots or asked for any concert slots or anything else because I wanted to just sit back, listen to songs and play just a song or two. And in that respect, FKO was a resounding success as far as I was concerned.
Like all cons, FKO was over way too soon. Memories include the freezing cold and huddling around a heating vent withcadhla,ladymondegreen and Erica Neely like sea-borne organisms clustering around volcanic vents in the deep dark seas for sustenance - how our dinner party just before the Dead Penguin filk on the last day expanded from 3 to 34 people as we descended on the poor Montana's Steak House down the block - Debbie spreading the rumor I was moving to Toronto and me restraining myself from performing bodily harm on her for that - performing Stan Rogers' "Forty-Five Years" for Dave Clement and Tom Jeffers. The depression was alleviated slightly by being able to go to the airport with Erica and Dave and Ellen Weingart.
Toronto customs suck. A boil on their backsides. Passing through US Customs to get into the US and thereafter to Canada posed no problems, but coming in from Toronto did - because they wanted me to check in Cassandra's security cable. Yes, as if I was going to take over the plane with a length of cable. And the worst part is, the really fucking annoying part, they wouldn't even let me gate-check it but demanded I go and check it in at the front desk again. I thought to myself, this is a 20-buck cable and said, "Fuck it, you can have it." The bloody Sikh who was doing the check also asked me what my iPod was. I almost said, "It's a thermal detonator," but I really didn't feel like a body cavity search, so I restrained myself.
Aside from that, the flight to Atlanta via Dallas Fort-Worth, of all places, went without much incident, and there I was, in the beautiful South atjost's place, and pleasantly warm and humid weather.
About the recordings later.
The trip was a bear, but American Airlines made it as pleasant as humanly possible to please someone as cantankerous as I am when it comes to travel. As usual, though, it was the drones in Narita, Tokyo that were unconvinced that Lilith could fit in an overhead. I was tempted to ask them, "Well, then, how did I get it from Singapore to Tokyo? Teleportation?" However, I just relinquished possession of her for them to see if it could fit into an overhead, and she passed the test, obviously.
It was snowing in Chicago. In April. Amazing. I watched, fascinated as the flakes of God's dandruff flitted down, pushed around by swirling winds in autumn leaf-like patterns. I strained to see the intricate crystalline structures, but only managed to see them for a split-second as individual flakes drifted close to the window, collided with them like on some kamikaze run, and melted into a drop of water pooling on the surface of the glass. I thought to myself about the old saying about how no two snowflakes are ever alike. Well, how the Hell can you tell? What's the statistical sampling on that one? Then I mentally slapped myself for thinking too much, as usual.
Dropped at Toronto, was picked up my
camwyn and deposited at the con hotel without incident. It was late by the time I got there, so by the time I got showered, most people had gone to sleep. I sat in the con suite for a while, talking to Glenn Simser, Judith and Dave Hayman and the Gordon-Kerrs from the UK for a while, hugged Katy, Yooh and Rika as they were going off to bed, and then went to bed myself. It was about then that I discovered that the Canadians have a very different sense of what constitutes a "data port". I had inquired about it earlier, and was told that the rooms had data ports in them. When I hear the term "data port" I think to myself it's an Ethernet connection, rather like the ones at OVFF last year. Turns out for the Canadians, a "data port" is a phone outlet. And since I don't have a Canadian ISP, I'm kind of fucked. So much for the idea of updating folks live from FKO using Cassandra.The next day I met up with Dan and Melissa Glasser at breakfast, said hello to Dave Clement and Tom Jeffers and assorted others like Spencer Love, Persis Thorndike and Talis Love. The Four Points Sheraton is a new hotel for FKO this year, and the food was much superior to the crap at the hotel last year. This was the first time I had Eggs Benedict, and man, it was really really tasty. The standard of food here would extend to the banquet the next evening as well.
Anyway, Dan, Melissa, Rika and I headed down to downtown Toronto (where it was also snowing!) and "World's Biggest Bookstore" where I had to restrain myself from buying shelf-loads of stuff. I had no more space in my luggage, really, and with the number of things in Atlanta that were waiting for me from Amazon.com I was thinking - and I still am - that getting an extra suitcase for the books would be a good idea.
I did succumb when it came to the DVDs, though, because even after accounting for the exchange rate, they're like ten Singaporean dollars cheaper than the ones I get back home. I got the Usual Suspects, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back special editions, the latest Roughnecks DVD and another DVD for a friend back home. I would have bought more except for the space constraints.
Anyway, shopping done - we returned to the con. I won't go into the details of what the con was - other people like Debbie Ohi have performed that function much more admirably that I every could. For me this was a relaxacon - after killing my voice and nearly myself at MilPhil, I needed a break from doing stuff. I deliberately had not signed up for any one-shots or asked for any concert slots or anything else because I wanted to just sit back, listen to songs and play just a song or two. And in that respect, FKO was a resounding success as far as I was concerned.
Like all cons, FKO was over way too soon. Memories include the freezing cold and huddling around a heating vent with
cadhla,ladymondegreen and Erica Neely like sea-borne organisms clustering around volcanic vents in the deep dark seas for sustenance - how our dinner party just before the Dead Penguin filk on the last day expanded from 3 to 34 people as we descended on the poor Montana's Steak House down the block - Debbie spreading the rumor I was moving to Toronto and me restraining myself from performing bodily harm on her for that - performing Stan Rogers' "Forty-Five Years" for Dave Clement and Tom Jeffers. The depression was alleviated slightly by being able to go to the airport with Erica and Dave and Ellen Weingart. Toronto customs suck. A boil on their backsides. Passing through US Customs to get into the US and thereafter to Canada posed no problems, but coming in from Toronto did - because they wanted me to check in Cassandra's security cable. Yes, as if I was going to take over the plane with a length of cable. And the worst part is, the really fucking annoying part, they wouldn't even let me gate-check it but demanded I go and check it in at the front desk again. I thought to myself, this is a 20-buck cable and said, "Fuck it, you can have it." The bloody Sikh who was doing the check also asked me what my iPod was. I almost said, "It's a thermal detonator," but I really didn't feel like a body cavity search, so I restrained myself.
Aside from that, the flight to Atlanta via Dallas Fort-Worth, of all places, went without much incident, and there I was, in the beautiful South at
jost's place, and pleasantly warm and humid weather. About the recordings later.
