There was another exciting event that happened this weekend, but the photos of my contribution to said event are saved at home, and therefore inaccessible until later.

(Photos for this post will be added this evening. Please do check back!)

But whoa, DragonCon. Extra “z”s are intended to indicate my level of alertness following the weekend. As you can probably tell, that level is not so high!

Firstly, I want to acknowledge that despite all my pessimism regarding the line for registration, it moved incredibly smoothly. I got my badge early in the morning on Thursday, with less than 5 minutes wait time once they opened the room (!). I brought cards and water and snacks for Matt and I while we waited, and none of those got used. Instead, we had a brief and very sleep-deprived conversation with Chief and Yahia, who had been awake all night, driving from Ohio and camping out on the sidewalk. Sort of like cards only completely different? Yeah. Afterward Matt got himself a monthly parking pass and we parted ways, he to save some woman having an epileptic fit, me to frantically finish sewing my Ramirez costume and pack ALL THE THINGS. Jennie came over briefly to have lunch, and then went of to unload her stuff at the artist’s alley.

OH THE FRANTIC PACKING. Amazingly, I only forgot one thing, which was the Ramirez pearl earring (small item, big thing to forget). Underwear? Check. Socks? Check. Toothpaste? Check. That evening, after checking into the hotel, M came over and helped sew my costume trousers, and we all gorged on Thai food. It was great. And I had a finished costume (I spent the time gluing trim to my hat)! Thanks so much to M for being an awesome friend.

We hung out at that weird skybar thing in the Marriott later on. It was already way crowded, and folks were costumed and we people-watched for a bit. L showed up with her husband and we chatted until Jennie declared herself to be Le Tired and we all crashed in the room.

Forgive me if I forget details in the remainder of this account, because things were very busy and very overwhelming. The Con gets bigger and bigger every year, but my desire to be not in crowds does not diminish, so I lose track of what goes on a bit.

Friday we got up and got dressed. Otter wore her sheer blue jingly outfit (this is an important detail), and I did a low-key Indian gaslight, which actually turned out to be my most lovely version of this so far. I’ve been gifted a copper brocade choli, and I have a sari with copper borders, so altogether with my jewelry, blue satin corset and copper colored juti, it’s a really nice ensemble. I like this costume. Because I’ve made an effort to retain as many Indian costuming conventions as possible, it’s a very organic outfit. It’s draped differently every time, and never looks the same way twice. I’m hoping the idea catches on and inspires more people to research India. So far, no luck, but I’m optimistic!

WH and I did some wandering, and then he was off to a panel as I went to change into the Ramirez costume. OH MY THIS GROUP WAS AWESOME. I met the rest at their hotel room, borrowed some gauntlets and off we went to be shiny. I totally forgot the claymore I promised, but ended up being the only one with a sword anyhow. Honestly, though? The Kurgan and Connor are recognizeable enough without, and together we rocked it.

We had some very excited photographers, and people were even more excited when we pointed out Candy. So awesome. Expect a repeat next year. I even got interviewed for a webcast! I don’t know if my footage made it in, but it was fun.

Then came dinner, which I honestly don’t recall all that well, except that maybe it included food? Oh! Wait. Azio. That’s right. People, don’t be fools and order the entrees. The appetizers are, well, appetizing and quite sufficient. Yum roasted mushrooms. Then we hung out and people watched before going back to the room to ready ourselves for the kilt-blowing.

So. Jingly outfit? In the morning, on the way to breakfast, we spotted Misha Collins (Supernatural actor) jogging, and Otter casually said, “Hey” at him. She went to a Supernatural panel later, in her jingly outfit, and that outfit got her a spot on Mr. Collins’s lap for a good portion of the panel. From there on out, people were recognizing her everywhere as either “jingly boobs” or “that girl from the Supernatural panel.”

Kilt blowing was nuts, with some minor incidents (overenthusiastic guys, a drunk being escorted away by the police), but for the most part pretty tame. We had a great group of surprise helpers, who made it so incredibly non-stressful. I have no idea what to do with myself when I’m not doing things myself, and was so happy to have people getting waivers signed, checking IDs, and doing crowd control. It’s so far from the early days of unruly crowds in the Marriott lobby. Like, whoa. We had a microphone! The posters went over very well, and will certainly happen again, but updated.

Six hours later, I woke up, put on garb, and rushed to the parade area, where we stood around a lot. I got to chat with a really interesting guy, who had the most incredible Italian WWII military costume (one of 30 reenactors in the US, he says) and had spend some time living in India. I will be friending him on Facebook later. Then came parade marching, with some minor snags (literally) as we discovered that our banner poles were just tall enough to get caught on the streetlights.

After that I honestly don’t recall what happened, except that we ogled celebrities, met Carrie Fisher, and did a quick perusal of the various shopping opportunities. Seriously. I have no idea what I did, except that it was evidently not terribly memorable. I was in costume? I think I changed clothes? Later we met up with friends from Chicago and had our favorite cheap Chinese buffet. Said friends made some stiff drinks and then it was off to the room to change for night 2 of kilt blowing, and husband went home.

Where the night before at kilt blowing had been mostly low-key (aside from the Goblin King serenade, which was indeed lovely), the second evening was not. We had an additional 10 participants, plus one surprise participant. In the form of Obby, Jennie’s boyfriend. In a kilt. Proposing marriage.

No, really.

They vanished for 20 minutes afterward, while we all cleaned up. Did I mention that awesome group of helpers? Awesome.

Aaand then there was more crashing in the room. Oh, sleep. I love you so.

Sunday was another day I don’t recall so well, but I do recall that we slept in, and then Otter and I went to breakfast, and I helped Lea (no blog yet! I think she’s working on one?) with her Persian Dance class, which had approximately 20 more people in it than I’ve ever seen (she confirmed that this was the largest she’d ever taught). Whoa! Then was a photoshoot of costumed superheroes, and running into Duke Max (his first con ever), and more celebrity ogling. I did manage to change clothes, as did WH, and wandered around as a 1980s Bollywood star for a while. I got my photo taken with Ming the Merciless. Then we all trundled off to Ted’s for a delicious dinner before more people-watching. Millicent, who I just met, was a good sport and accompanied me to see Jefferson Starship. It was everything it sounds like! One more Mischa Collins sighting, then back to meet up with Jennie for the drum circle, at which we danced a little and then escaped, it being brightly lit and not at all what we expected.

I wore garb again Monday morning, leaving a pile of luggage for WH to take to the car, and sat on a panel (on a panel!) informing people of the Silk Road cultures and the SCA. I met a lady who engaged me in conversation about the international community and the research we do in the SCA, and am feeling much better about what I’m doing, from the perspective of cultural appropriation (in that I’m not as self-conscious as I was).

So then came the Eureka panel, which was lovely even minus Wil Wheaton (in the words of one Sheldon Cooper, WHEATOOOONNNNNNN!; not sure why he wasn’t there, but it was great anyhow), and then a change of clothes, and some wandering with WH. Ate a mediocre lunch. Met Norman Reedus, who is a really really nice guy. Helped Jennie load out. Bought some art. Hung out with Fyvel for quite a while. Popped in on a hookah party, and picked up some con crud. Finally, we went to La Fonda with Fyvel  before dropping him at the airport.

That evening, I had intended to unpack and clean a little. Instead, I fell asleep at 7:30, and didn’t wake up until 11 the next morning. Jennie and I had a nice, quiet lunch at the Farmer’s Market while buying groceries, and I spent the rest of the day catching up on Bollywood films. I can now recommend Dhobi Ghat (excellent film), and Aisha, which is an acceptable adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma.

This weekend is Coronation and Lady Adela’s elevation to the Order of the Laurel. I plan on doing some serious lazing about.

About HappyGoth

By day, I'm a graphic designer. By night, I'm a knitter. I'm doing my part to keep Hotlanta stylish. I imagine that if you don't already understand the title of the blog, you're probably confused and perhaps slightly annoyed, but never fear - I do have a reason (and it's a good one). Having gone to hear Stephanie Pearl McPhee, and then having been inspired to blog about knitting, I found myself wondering what to call the blog. I recalled a conversation I had with Mouse and the Chicken Goddess about why it is a Bad Idea to anger knitters - this conversation was following SPM, aka the Yarn Harlot telling the assembled throng about Those Who Do Not Understand Knitting and Therefore Belittle It Much to the Chagrin of Others, or TWDNUKTBMCO, which is not the acronym she used but is the one I'm using because I forgot hers - that is, we are numerous and we all have very pointy sticks, easily transforming into an angry mob. Therefore, knitters = angry mob.
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