Reading Is Fundamental
If I didn't have a set of D cups, I swear, I could be a man. I like Monty Python, Terry Pratchett novels, FHM, classic rock and movies with lots and lots of bare-knuckle fighting (okay, maybe I could be a 14 year old white boy). And sometimes, usually when it's most important, I just don't read. [This is a male trait if ever there was one. Before I catch hell for pointing that out, read this. Every woman can tell you a similar story. Not reading (instructions, directions, fine print, etc.) seems to be embedded in the Y chromosome (as in the time a friend came to visit me, got lost, chewed me out for giving him bad directions, and then, under questioning, 'cause I gave that fool directions including landmarks and all kinds of other shit, he admitted he had skimmed them, not liked them because they didn't look right--mind you, he had never been there before, and I lived there, yet, he thought he could do better--and then taken a totally different route, dumbass. We ain't friends no mo'). For further illustration of my gender confusion, check out me profile, or this entry. I really do think Eddie Izzard is one of the sexiest things on three legs. And that is saying a lot, considering some of his wardrobe/makeup choices.] So today, having finally gotten my money back from Freshdirect, I made hasty plans to attend Noreascon 4, a.k.a. Worldcon 62, a.k.a Dorkfest 4000. After buying a day pass and booking a hotel for the night, I went back to the dorkfest website and tried to register for the Masquerade, which was the whole reason I was planning to attend on Sunday, and juggled my work schedule to accomodate it, rather than going today or tomorrow, which I already had off, and which would have involved more dances, the Hugo Awards ceremony, and been somewhat cheaper. Now, when I heard there would be a masquerade, I assumed this meant a masquerade ball, where people dress up, put on masks, and have scandalous trysts. Or at least dance spastically to '80s muzak while wearing stiff, flowy or sparkly attire. But no, the Noreascon Masquerade is not a dance. It's a costume-contest/talent show, which requires participants to parade around on stage to music of their choosing, for a few minutes, before an audience and judges. Incidentally, this is my idea of Hell On Earth. I have stage fright of truly epic proportions (which nestles deep in my psyche, bizarrely, right next to my near-sociopathic need for attention). I could easily have discovered this little tidbit at any time over the last several weeks, well before finalizing my plans, just by clicking on the Masquerade link on the Noreascon website. But I didn't read. Until after the fact. And now I must decide whether or not to cancel my hotel reservation and try to switch days ('cause there are dance parties Saturday) or keep what I've got, because there are some really great discussions Sunday, anyway, like the one on using mythologies other than Celtic folkore in spec fiction, for once. Or to cancel the hotel and take the money to go Saturday and Sunday, and crash with friends. Crap.
posted by Sid @ 9/03/2004 05:28:00 PM
3 Comments:
If you had your heart set on the parties you should look into changing days or saving your hotel money. You can't get it back once it is spent. Unless you want a mini vacation. I love hotels.
I might do that, though I have to admit, the idea of staying in a hotel was a sort of decadent and appealing idea, plus, if I go Saturday, I'll be going alone, and partying alone is as much fun as drinking alone, whereas if I go Sunday a friend would join me, but she wouldn't come Saturday, for that, I have ben told, is reserved for Bluegrass festival activities. I'll figure it out soon!
I've cancelled the hotel, alas, but kept the same date. Chinatown bus, here I come! I'd like to go saturday, but it is too late to get a hotel room. Everything is full! So I don't think I'll be doing Saturday, dammit.
Stank!
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