2009-09-09 12:48![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
digitaldiscipline
digitaldisciplineRather than go into tedious detail about my day-to-day shenanigans at D*C, bullet point highlights:
Biggest, and Most Importantly:
- Seeing everyone I expected to see, and a few folks I didn't. That's really why I go. I don't give a damn for most fandoms, hate standing in long lines, can't/won't do any fancy costuming, am a pathetically uninvolved fanboy (dude, Shatner and Nimoy were there, and I couldn't be arsed to try and make it to their panel (see aforementioned aversion to lines)). For me, D*C is a social event first, a bit of work second, and an actual convention a very, very distant third.
Other Assorted Goodness:
- Unofficial staff/former-guild meeting which involved scotch, pizza, and smack-talking Guitar Hero.
- Getting a pre-event massage, as recommended by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tirani. A little spendier than the place I go locally, but the "beat the fuck out of my shoulders, arms, and back" sports massage two days after a more moderate full-body one managed to actually work out some of the latent kinks (not those, you perverts) that have plagued me for the last fifteen years (ie: since I busted my collarbone).
- Being a panelist, where my ineffable talent fornuanced oratory strategic tactical vulgarity was put to good use (even though grimthorn is one chatty bitch).
- - Corollary to the above, getting to talk with WoW players who literally just picked up the game a week ago, and being able to offer advice, as well as chatting with folks at the bleeding edge of content progression and being able to pick their brains (conveniently, they play the same classes I do, for bonus helpfulness).
- Strategic Jerky Reserves, protein shakes, gatorade, and other assorted snackables procured byaishlynn proved to be a superb breakfast and grazing option, even if they did keep me away from the awesome shwarma place in the mall food court, save for a quick dinner with baobh (with swords).
- The gym time paying off, to the extent that $random_bar_patron and her husband twigged that I read T-Nat. Also, the aforementioned ability to heft random strangers.
- - Corollary to the above,grimthorn was apparently pointing to me as the guy unruly guests would need to worry about, rather than himself or the other couple of big, gruff, six-four, 280#-plus dudes on our staff. Not that I am actually all that worth being afraid of, but "small, energetic, crazy-looking dude in pretty good shape" is apparently more ominous. I am okay with that. :-)
- Meeting more of the D*C staff, who are pretty much universally awesome people.
- Being able to be useful and helpful to convention guests, and being asked to pose for a lot more pictures with random folks than a guy not wearing anything more exciting than an orange camo Utilikilt. Who the hell on BSG/Bab5 do I look like, in a plain black shirt and black kilt? Several people were very insistent on this point to me on Thursday and Friday, but I don't watch the shows, and have NFI who they were talking about.
- A really good conversation with a Scots/English woman at the hotel bar on Monday night about the collective failings of practical education. "There should be a class on managing personal relationships / basic household & vehicle maintenance / parenting / suchlike." We agreed rather vigorously.
- Coming home with $34 remaining from my pre-con budget, not counting two tanks of gas which went on plastic, and intocritus' minivan ("Pants").
Only thing I missed out on that I'd wanted to do was the Men In Kilts (With Leaf Blower) stuff; I was either asleep or engaged in partying heartily elsewhere each night it took place. Next year, for sure (though last year's pictures is in this year's flipbook;jenniebreeden rocks the catbox most heartily).
Useless D*C trivia and administrivia:
- I walked damn near thirty miles, if my pedometer is to be believed.
- I am going to bring another set of footwear besides my combat boots, since thirty miles plus a lot of standing around had my left ankle very unhappy, and the resulting limp displeased my right knee.
Biggest, and Most Importantly:
- Seeing everyone I expected to see, and a few folks I didn't. That's really why I go. I don't give a damn for most fandoms, hate standing in long lines, can't/won't do any fancy costuming, am a pathetically uninvolved fanboy (dude, Shatner and Nimoy were there, and I couldn't be arsed to try and make it to their panel (see aforementioned aversion to lines)). For me, D*C is a social event first, a bit of work second, and an actual convention a very, very distant third.
Other Assorted Goodness:
- Unofficial staff/former-guild meeting which involved scotch, pizza, and smack-talking Guitar Hero.
- Getting a pre-event massage, as recommended by
tirani. A little spendier than the place I go locally, but the "beat the fuck out of my shoulders, arms, and back" sports massage two days after a more moderate full-body one managed to actually work out some of the latent kinks (not those, you perverts) that have plagued me for the last fifteen years (ie: since I busted my collarbone).- Being a panelist, where my ineffable talent for
grimthorn is one chatty bitch).- - Corollary to the above, getting to talk with WoW players who literally just picked up the game a week ago, and being able to offer advice, as well as chatting with folks at the bleeding edge of content progression and being able to pick their brains (conveniently, they play the same classes I do, for bonus helpfulness).
- Strategic Jerky Reserves, protein shakes, gatorade, and other assorted snackables procured by
aishlynn proved to be a superb breakfast and grazing option, even if they did keep me away from the awesome shwarma place in the mall food court, save for a quick dinner with baobh (with swords).- The gym time paying off, to the extent that $random_bar_patron and her husband twigged that I read T-Nat. Also, the aforementioned ability to heft random strangers.
- - Corollary to the above,
grimthorn was apparently pointing to me as the guy unruly guests would need to worry about, rather than himself or the other couple of big, gruff, six-four, 280#-plus dudes on our staff. Not that I am actually all that worth being afraid of, but "small, energetic, crazy-looking dude in pretty good shape" is apparently more ominous. I am okay with that. :-)- Meeting more of the D*C staff, who are pretty much universally awesome people.
- Being able to be useful and helpful to convention guests, and being asked to pose for a lot more pictures with random folks than a guy not wearing anything more exciting than an orange camo Utilikilt. Who the hell on BSG/Bab5 do I look like, in a plain black shirt and black kilt? Several people were very insistent on this point to me on Thursday and Friday, but I don't watch the shows, and have NFI who they were talking about.
- A really good conversation with a Scots/English woman at the hotel bar on Monday night about the collective failings of practical education. "There should be a class on managing personal relationships / basic household & vehicle maintenance / parenting / suchlike." We agreed rather vigorously.
- Coming home with $34 remaining from my pre-con budget, not counting two tanks of gas which went on plastic, and into
critus' minivan ("Pants").Only thing I missed out on that I'd wanted to do was the Men In Kilts (With Leaf Blower) stuff; I was either asleep or engaged in partying heartily elsewhere each night it took place. Next year, for sure (though last year's pictures is in this year's flipbook;
jenniebreeden rocks the catbox most heartily).Useless D*C trivia and administrivia:
- I walked damn near thirty miles, if my pedometer is to be believed.
- I am going to bring another set of footwear besides my combat boots, since thirty miles plus a lot of standing around had my left ankle very unhappy, and the resulting limp displeased my right knee.
