Loscon
2001-11-26 - 8:26 a.m.
Once upon a time, in 1990, I was looking forward to my third BayCon (www.baycon.org). I'd had lots of fun in 1988, and even in 1989, the one with the lynch mob running around the con looking for us and freaking out one of our friends from Japan.
Finals were coming up, and they were hard. But Baycon was coming up. Heck, nothing was going very well, but I kept building up Baycon in my mind as this wonderful thing to look forward to. There was even the Fish under the Sea dance to look forward to, and a girl I had danced with in 1989, when my friends finally dragged me to the dance.
Can you see where this is going? We ended up nicknaming that Baycon: Depressacon.
Jen got a ride up with us and was supposed to get a ride back down for Ren Faire, but the hotel never gave her the message that he was downstairs waiting for her. She was stuck with us for the weekend with her street clothes and Ren Faire garb.
Andri's little brother had a crush on Jen (so did I at some point, but I don't think I did that weekend), and followed her around like a lost puppy. He also tried pot for the first time (he said it was first time, though it seemed to affect him a lot), and wound up sitting in front of our hotel room door with a towel over his head, saying he wanted to kill himself.
Andri and Jen got into some arguments and drama. I was spending all my time with depressed people, and generally was feeling pretty depressed, but was still at least looking forward to the dance.
When I found my friend at the dance, and she said she wasn't feeling well and didn't want to dance. that was the last straw. My whole blown-up string of expectations came crashing down. I sat down at a table and cried.
Oh, I forgot about Day, who wasn't able to go to Baycon, who was depressed at home because he couldn't go. I think he lucked out.
About a week later, after I started getting over Depressacon, I realised I had set my expectations way too high. From then on, on some level, I've tried to set my expectations for a con somewhat neutrally, and also decided I wouldn't let other people's depression get me down too much. If things were looking down, I'd go make fun happen, somehow.
For Loscon (www.loscon.org) last weekend, I allowed my expectations to go up a bit. In my last entry, I said:
Tonight after turkeyless day, we're going away for the weekend to Loscon (www.loscon.org), which I also expect to be very very nice.
Maybe it was because I was taking my cuddle-friend along, and if the con sucked, I could always hang out with her. Maybe it was because I was more interested in the con as an excuse to spend a weekend with her. I was actually a bit nervous as well, because we had discussed the possibility of showering together, and I had never showered with anyone else before.
Well, I wasn't disappointed. I had lots of fun. I did enjoy the con. I did enjoy staying in the room, and was only slightly embarassed in the shower... and even less for the second shower.
I met a lot of my cuddle-friend's family on Saturday and had fun at her grandmother's house, even though her mom decided the lunch they went out for had to be for females only (I would point to an earlier rant about "sacred girl things," but it's in an old journal that isn't up any more... it was after a two female friends begged me to *drive* them to go shopping, then the one who was buying clothes for the other insisted that I be excluded and go find something else to do, after we'd arrived there, because it was "sacred girl shopping." Suffice it to say I don't believe in events that exclude potential attendees because of gender).
So, I didn't build up the con in my mind as some great thing, but I did look forward to it, and expected it to be nice, and it was great. Heck, I didn't even squabble with my non-romantically-involved domestic partner... the worst that happened was that once we got home, and I dropped her off, she wanted me to unlock the door, because her keys were buried in one of her bags, and I complained a bit.
I think she was happier on the way home because she had her own cuddle-friend that went along, a certain Fox.
I'm still very infatuated with my cuddle-friend. I'm perfectly comfortable with her. I like her a lot. I like her quirks and eccentricities, things she says I "put up with." Her mind, body, sense of humor, her smiles...
I could go on.
