Categories
Too Long For Twitter

Political Message

Other than watching the Daily Show (*gasp* Yes, I’m one of those). I ignore political discussions, watch no pundits and only accidentally watch the debates. As in, I randomly discover it’s on and watch from then on. I refuse to commit to memory anyone else’s political opinions other than my own and the candidates. And even then I prefer text to speech.  Many of our former presidents, not presiding during times of gluttonous portable device ownership, when it was only their printed words, and not their personality, voice, humanizing speech imperfections or knowledge if they ever used illegal drugs.

The reason? Politicians disgust me, almost to a one. I rely on research online (done for my by Chooch this year – long story) and limit hearing the politicians and their rehearsed answers, although I do like to watch at least one debate to get a sense of each of them on a personal level – how do they handle themselves with each other and the moderator? Do they take potshots at the other opponent instead of answering a direct question? That sort of thing. I feel the debates are good. They will either reinforce your decision or decide it. It’s a disgusting display of ego, but a necessary part of our available input – how will the candidate handle himself when dealing with other countries, under the scrutiny of those that elect you.

Whichever issues are most important to you should matter in the voting booth. Forget the archaic political system handed down to us by our parents, part of which required we label ourselves, Democrat, Republican, Independent (Response is typically a puppy dog head tilt.), Conservative, Liberal or Unicornian (Puppy dog head tilts measure far lower than for Independents).

In my opinion, issues must drive elections, hopefully more so than outdated and eternally shifting labels. Look at your life. Are you poor? Then general belief is that voting Republican could keep you poor. Martian? Then you should likely be down on the side of those in support of marriage equality. Admittedly, the debate now concerns same sex unions, but breaking down that barrier will mean that Martian/Earthling legally recognized unions are more likely.
(Note: Feel free to argue my fictional examples. Like my main point, most debate is moot. You are not likely to change my mind, and vice versa.)

So you’ve heard my rant, refusing to join in debates and back away slowly, and it’s likely not for the first time. This is already more than I like to say on the subject. And don’t worry, I’m already regretting it.

With all of this disgust, boredom, disdain and love for our challenging political system, color me surprised when I actually came across a political message I can not only get behind — it had me cheering and rewinding immediately.

Thanks to the insistence of our sons Naughty Bear and LT, Chooch and I have gotten heavily into Adventure Time, on Cartoon Network. It’s a favorite go-to show for us, and I get the jones for it daily. The simplicity and inherent truth in the relationship between twelve year old Finn and 4 year old Jake, his yellow dog rock my world.

This is where I found the one Political Rap to rule them all, performed by Jake (beatbox) and Finn (lyricist).

(Note: Apologies for not posting with video or audio, but I can’t find a sanctioned site and am sick of dealing with old broken links, let alone posting future ones. Trust me, it is far more awesome in Jake’s voice. Google it for the freshest video link.)

Lyrics
Yeah,
ugh,
political rap.
Yo yo,
demon apathy,
yo zappity.
Get ready.
Government,
where you went?
Yo, farmer’s market.
Ride bikes.
Get on it.
Geodesic domes,
science.
You heard?

Categories
Too Long For Twitter

Did Someone Say Hurricane Party?

So, Hurricane Sandy is dead set on screwing up the schedules and lives of what must be nearly person in the North East. High winds, blizzards and floods, with what is expected to be millions of us without power for a potentially long time.  Because none of our children live with us, I am not as prepared as I would be with them here.

Long ago, we stopped keeping our “Bunker” well stocked, as it’s just the two of us now. Since we’ve moved into the home we share with another family, which includes two young and energetic girls, we are still ready for most potential disasters. Note: If anyone has an app that protects your home from falling trees/flying objects, please link in the comments?

I have to mention, since it literally just occurred, that if the spontaneous explosion of pain in my noggin is anything to measure by, the changes in the barometric pressure have me already grateful that I’m stocked up with medication. If necessary, I can ride it out with Prince Vicodin and Sandman Soma.

I am now thrilled that we were too broke to spring for a New York City 9th and 10th anniversary celebration for Chooch and I for our November 1st, 9th and 10th anniversaries (9 years married, 10 years since our first official date).

Just having returned from the final grocery trip, I am happy to say that our local community is clearly trying to observe the warning to stay home, as the roads were way less crowded than expected, as was the store itself. Businesses were closing, and I watched stores empty into parking lots as people hurried along.

We are nestled in, I have made sure my sons are safe and there is little left to do, other than some cooking before we potentially lose power– Barbeque chicken in the crockpot (only 2 more hours!), plus sugar cookies for the girls we live with to decorate on Halloween again this year. All our devices are charged and we are splurging on electricity as much as we can.

In truth, I almost wish for a power outage.  It never happens here, the weather is mild and there is so much going on that I, uh, well… I kind of tingle at the idea of primitive living. Using devices sparingly means things get down to basics. Happily, we have flashlights and batteries, candles and many, many books and board games.

I suppose the scary part would be getting cut off from our Beloveds, and being sure they are all well. But not having electricity means that you let go and streamline. Your control over their, and your own, situation is all just worry in your own mind. Useless.

*sigh*

Cool!

~~~Please be safe, stay where you are if possible and among everything else you are being warned about, take care with children and animals around downed power lines as well as lit candles or flames.

And, from George Takei’s Facebook post earlier today:
As things intensify, if you need to let others know you’re ok or to search for loved ones, here is one resource: www.redcross.org/safeandwell

Categories
Too Long For Twitter

Modesty vs. Halloween

There have been a metric butt-ton of these types of Facebook posts:

 

I opted out of slutty again last year. I lost my mind over a hamster costume that completely covered me. It was not sexy in any way. While it was not my intention to wear something quite so burlap sack-y, I was beyond excited as it was reminiscent of Hamtaro (but not licensed as such).
Not slutty and full of happy memories of watching the cartoon with LT? Hellz yeah!

I was given pink bunny pj’s at Christmas, so this year I’ll be wearing glasses and rocking Ovaltine in my pimp stein. Unless we get washed away in

Happy Halloween and be safe with merry making with the bad weather and so on. Call a cab if you get even mildly sauced. Trust me, you don’t want to piss off this hamster.

Categories
TV

“Firefly: Browncoats Unite” to Air on 11/11/12

Science Channel’s FIREFLY Sunday extravaganza begins at 7AM ET/PT with an all-day marathon of the series.  Then, at 10PM ET/PT, the event Browncoats everywhere have been waiting for – FIREFLY: BROWNCOATS UNITE premieres on Science Channel. – from Cinema Blend, dtd 10/25/12.

WTF, friends, tweeps, internet and everyone else? A new Firefly anything and I heard not a peep before now? I know, it’s my own fault, really. Life has kept us busy and I’ve been unable to keep up with everything going on outside of the day-in/day out. And it’s not as if it’s a new movie or series. But it’s sure as hell a great way to spend a Sunday.

A description of what will air:

The 60-minute special includes secrets from the set, exclusive cast interviews, and footage from this year’s colossal Comic-Con panel that dominated the pop culture conversation.  Joining Whedon and Fillion for FIREFLY: BROWNCOATS UNITE are Serenity crewmembers Sean Maher, Summer Glau, Adam Baldwin, Morena Baccarin, Alan Tudyk, Gina Torres and Jewel Staite; along with executive producer Tim Minear and executive story editor Jose Molina.

After being blessed enough to have briefly met Jewel Staite and watched “Jayne” and “Simon” with her on a panel at Dragon*Con, I can say that I will be fully tuned in to watch it, as the three demonstrated what must have been great fun they had during the filming of Firefly and Serenity. I saw some real douchebags on some other panels, and it changed my opinion on their work. Not true with Jewel, Adam or Sean. Now knowing that I really would love to sit down and hang out with them for a bit, I greatly anticipate the show.

At least set it to record on your DVR, people!

Categories
Health Uncategorized

*blink*

I’m thinking out loud here, sharing a few experiences during this, Breast Cancer Awareness month. It’s been a blur the last few weeks, as we face many unknowns on many fronts, nearly all in the control of others, but the constant thread throughout the year has been cancer. Not just my own brushes with it as doctors run various tests and even, just this last summer, for our middle son, LT. Nope, MANY others that I love have dealt with the terror of cancer recently– a staggering and heart breaking number.

And normally I wouldn’t write a confessional like this for fear of poking at anyone’s wounds on the subject of cancer. So if you’re one of those people, you’re just going to have to stop reading here or continue knowing that I’m raw and writing with little censoring.

I’ve been digging in deep in therapy, facing my cancer fears and, as my Momma taught me long ago (after 3 known generations of a breast cancer death sentence), exerting control over it where I can:

  • by vigilantly performing breast self-exams;
  • by staying up on new possible risk factors;
  • ensuring that what I consider to be essential dietary requirements are met;
  • never, ever missing an annual physical or mammogram.

So, as it happened, this year my annual exam best worked out on my 43rd birthday. It was just one of many things that defined the day in a special way, particularly because of the love and patience my husband showed me.

While at the appointment, I was given an order for a mammogram. I have them annually and have for years. I don’t fear them, I welcome them. Find the little fuckers before they can spread to my lymph nodes, because Holy Hell you don’t want to happen.

I put it with an order I already had for back x-rays, deciding to make the appointment within the week.

Then I got a call from my doctor’s office, relaying my extremely trusted doctor’s need to discuss abnormal results from the pap test portion of the exam. I wasn’t terrified, because it was the second one I’d had, the last being 15 years ago and the follow up testing and annual testing in the intervening years have been normal. I was also terrified, because it was the second abnormal and if it had been missed all this time then it had 15 years to secretly fill my body.

*blink*

I already had a full day of laundry, and shopping for baking and an already too-full To Do list, but the plans went out the window and the race to see her began. She explained it was likely nothing, but she doesn’t mess around when it comes to me and reproductive cancers. After she opted for a pelvic ultrasound, I snatched the order for that test and the other two and dragged my dazed and raw self to the imaging center I prefer. (A phrase I hoped never to say.)

The ultrasound, with a fresh 32 ounces in my distended bladder was unpleasant but over quickly, and with great relief I headed off to tinkle when I was then told of the shocking (to me) internal component that I was not warned of. Again, ever seeking more information on life-threatening matters, I leapt into the necessaries, and was beyond relieved when I was given the all-clear on Monday. (Huzzah!) In related news, my left ovary is bashful.

One down, two to go, and I don’t really know what to wish for regarding the back x-rays. That left me with the mammogram results to sweat out. I try to act like I wasn’t worried, but I always am. After leaving my doting husband, and his comforting hand in mine (Thank God for Chooch), in the waiting room, I liken the feeling I get to being a little girl reaching up for my Mom’s hand to guide me through it the rest of the way. Luckily, although she died almost 7 years ago from breast cancer, she never disappoints. (Thank God for Mom.)

So a phone call from my doctor today, followed by a notice from the imaging center that there is again an area of concern in a new location, and I have to go back for a breast ultrasound and what I think of as a targeted compression mammogram. I’ve had multiple ultrasounds over the years and one targeted compression mammogram. That year, I had photographed the room, the machine and different steps involved in the hopes of de-mystifying the mammogram experience of an ordinary patient.

Before I could even edit the photos and write the post, I had gotten the notice of the area of concern and need for further testing. Even having gotten the all-clear, it felt like tempting the fates to post it. This year, I again stopped myself from taking my camera to finally write a blog post. No jinxies.

*blink*

Am I getting better at handling and processing terrors? Is therapy helping? Or, with all the other nasty surprises the year has brought our direction, am I just burned out?

Tomorrow I schedule that test, hopefully Monday. Now, how many tests can you have come back negative before the odds send home a positive? As in, “You have tested positive for cancer.” Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.

Even scarier, what if something is wrong and I hadn’t gone for my annual exam and/or mammogram?

And yes, I know, everything is going to be fine. In fact, I’ve even been able to find a thin sliver of a silver lining, if you can believe my gall, if the worst is true. So, there’s that.

Please, everyone, if you haven’t gone for your annual physicals yet this year, schedule them now. 

There is more than simply breast cancer to be vigilant against, Dear Reader, so give yourself a fighting and well-informed chance on anything you or your doctor are concerned about.

I don’t mean to diminish what is likely a hefty co-pay, but I would certainly prefer knowing that a loved one nixed gift giving over the holidays in exchange for a health screening.

Promise you’ll at least think about it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S. For those expecting a Dr Who reference, here ya go — if I do get breast cancer, send the Weeping Angels my way if it starts to win. Cuz I have no intention of being the 4th generation with that particular cause of death.

EDIT:
Everything came back negative and WOW that’s a long and gnarly post.  Ah, the wonder of me.

Categories
Uncategorized

A Lesser Geek No Longer

I’ve never played D&D, despite having a brother, an ex and a husband all devout in their worship of the game.

I’ve never sat through a Dr Who episode before the glorious Christopher Eccleston took up the mantle of the sonic screwdriver.

I only remember a few scenes from ANY Star Trek, be it TV show or movie. (Tribbles! Nagging clone wives! Khhhaaaaaaaaan! Beautiful bald chick! Ear wigs! )

In spite of seeing every Star Wars movie countless times, I can’t name all the secondary characters, geek out on Death Star specs and have no clue who shot first.

I’ve only gotten heavily into gaming since being with Chooch. Other than when I was a kid, gaming was primarily something I did to entertain kids — my sister, then my kids and the kids of others. Now I am always seeking fun games to play, and Chooch and I recently revived our forgotten habit of playing quick start/easy to finish games (Bananagrams, Zombie Dice, Gloom, etc) while waiting for food at restaurants.

I always explain at conventions that I love Firefly/Serenity and Dr. Horrible, but cannot sit through Buffy, Angel or anything past the first few episodes of Doll House. So while I am a Joss Whedon fan, it’s only a small percentage of the characters he’s created that I care about. (Yes, I have tried. No you won’t change my mind, it’s not for me. I won’t insult you by listing why I dislike it, if you won’t insult me for not being a fan. Deal?)

I have passion, as anyone that saw me after the Big Damn Heroes panel or meeting Jewel Staite can attest. But I typically just take the easy way out and skip the “How Much Could You Know?” discussion since my knowledge usually peters out long before the questions do anyways. I’d just claim myself to be a Geek by Osmosis and bail, seeking fun rather than judgment.

Then I saw a post from creative genius and overall grantor of peace, J.R. Blackwell.  It’s not a kindly,  upbeat post. There is exquisitely descriptive profanity. There is rage. And there is hope for a gal like me.

I no longer just “<3 my geek.” I proclaim myself to be a Geek. And not just in the music realm, but in the realm I now frequent the most – True Geekdom – sci-fi conventions, board games, podcasting, audio editing, photo ops with stars that are obscure at best to most of the people not in this realm, movie memorabilia and a long-standing need to let my freak flag fly, no matter who it scares off. For goodness’ sake, we named our dog after a fictional space ship engineer.

THAT WE MET LAST MONTH!!!!! ZOMG!!!! <3 Jewel! <3 Kaylee!

*ahem*

Another Dragon*Con post is likely coming. But as usual, don’t expect too many facts. I go where the giggles are, and sometimes the things that cause them are best left in confidence between those present.

Categories
Chooch Family Friends No Whining Uncategorized

43, Not 21

Yesterday was my birthday, and I’ve been spoiled by my husband for the last week or so as he drove me to see a few family and friends. Tuesday night (my birthday eve) I had dinner with my husband, oldest son (Naughty Bear), niece, sister, sister’s husband, brother and father. Due to some family drama, I had more than a little anxiety. I just simply pushed that aside and focused on the excitement I felt that they were all coming to my birthday dinner.

It was a wonderful time, although my brother announced his move far away in a week (?!?!!), and I was even more grateful to have gotten everyone together since we don’t know when we’ll see him next. Luckily, Chooch, my son and my niece are the kind of people that it’s impossible not to have a good time around.

When the waitress asked how old I was, my dad said, “21!” I was standing and taking a picture of someone when I heard, giggled and said “43! Woo hoo!” making it clear to all that I have no druthers about my age. Besides, how awkward would that have been with my 21 year old sitting at the table? No, I embrace my years, color my grays and smile at the laugh lines in my reflection, grateful for every smirk and belly laugh that’s contributed to them. 43!!!! In hindsight, based on his usual flirtatiousness, I think he wanted the waitress to think he was younger. Just kidding. I actually don’t think he knows that I embrace each birthday with such aggression. I love to level up to a new age. Have a giddy moment, even. Give a sigh of relief, even.

We slept in at a surprisingly nice, cheap ass hotel, and headed to the first fun item on the agenda: my annual *cough* physical. Regardless of where I live or how good my local general practitioner is, I always go back to Dr. E for this particular appointment. She’s thoughtful, very clever, empathetic (a rarity, I’ve found, in doctors) and a genuinely good person. She also keeps looking at all my symptoms and bringing up MS as a possibility, which scares the shit out of me. She keeps me honest, kicking me out of denial on an annual basis for well over a decade.

Then Chooch and I had lunch, which I inhaled since my appointment wasn’t until two pm (fasting bloodwork), made a grocery store run and headed home. Mmmm… jalepeno cheddar bread from Sweetwater Tavern … mmmm… Drunken Rib Eye (I don’t order the delish dish, Chooch does. It’s so rich, I only ever want one bite, which he sweetly shares.)

As planned, Housie Jen and daughters Tiny Expert and Feral Dancer joined Chooch in having a cake party for me, and the resulting silliness, giggles and feral impressions made the day special in a completely different way. They are at that amazing age where their full belly giggles and laughter are magical, stopping adults (is it just parents captivated by The Giggle?) in their tracks to stop and revel in the innocent sound. I was so happy to have had the time with them. It eased missing our kids a bit.

It was devastatingly difficult to leave, but TMC was running a special showing of Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds. I haven’t seen it since I was a teen and was startled and “migrained” by the difference. I don’t think I’ll ever view old movies the same, the ones I’ve only ever seen on a television screen. Never before had I recognized the tremendous difference between the two displays. Having the opening credits play over a wall of blurred images of attacking birds and over-loud screeching birds had my heart racing by the time the movie suddenly went silent and started.

It was something that had never blipped on my radar before, typically getting snacks or fussing with a blankie or whatever, waiting for the actual movie start. But I now see how movie theater viewers would have a much higher fear factor towards the flying murderers from the very beginning of the movie. On the tv, it’s like a commercial or filler (for me) that I only partially pay attention to and I had no fear of the birds at the start of the movie. I don’t know which is a better/more powerful, the lack of fear and seeing how they go from every day birds to killers? Or being immediately immersed into the terror to come?

Now I wish I could see all the AFI Top 100 movies on the big screen. I think seeing some of the ones I disliked may strike me differently. And it may eventually be possible with Turner Classic Movies dropping these tasty theatrical nuggets. My friend Andrea, just told me she heard they are brewing up a Karloff movie for Halloween.

There have been a few small birthday celebrations and toasts this year, no big party as circumstances just don’t accommodate it. And while Facebook doesn’t seem to allow me to reply for about 40 of the well wishes , I’ve read each of them and greatly appreciate each one.

Now, on an unrelated note, there’s a new Hobbit trailer! Yes, I’m annoyed it’s to be a trilogy. Yes, I pray McKellan’s role has been completely filmed. Yes, I’m FUCKING EXCITED. *swoon – Martin Freeman*

Categories
Health Uncategorized

Health Blahs Update, aka Dragon*Con 2012, Part 2

I think it’s been awhile, and I have recently been known to attempt to steer recent conversations away from my health issues. I’ve done okay, with one regretted exception, where it was too much honesty for too long and I hastily began the backpedal out of health blah territory and back to the fun light stuff I went to Dragon*Con for in the first place.

History of what I call my Health Blahs (over the last 3 years): Sudden onset of vestibular migraines (and associated neurological symptoms), neurocardiogenic syncope (fairly common – I may faint under stress. Like approximately 70% of the population, reportedly.) TMJ and a Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever diagnosis (4 week RMSF treatment, no clue what to expect from it in the future).

Earlier this year, after a massive increase in pain, fatigue and many other symptoms, primarily pain hotspots hitting pretty much any joint I could identify at one point or another, I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. There has been concern over the extreme pain and loss of flexibility and mobility in my hands and feet, and after x-rays gave no clear answer, I had an MRI of my right hand to try and diagnose the frequently painful periods in both hands and feet.

The MRI revealed that there is no evidence of rheumatoid arthritis in my right hand (Praise Baby Jesus); we don’t really know what’s causing the pain in my hands and feet, but some pain in my right hand may be attributed to a cyst I am to get checked out (wheee!); I’m getting physical therapy and a safe start back on the path to (crossing fingers) 5k’s and half-marathon training (Dammit, Mur. I’m not giving up.). I miss running and I intend to have another 500+ mile year. Soon.

So, in general, I had more tests run, have more tests being run, have extreme gratitude to my husband for providing excellent health insurance for us and our kids, have far more interesting Dragon*Con posts and no more real information but lots of options still open to me.

While some of these issues are chronic, they are not life-threatening. Sadly, I have many examples of those less fortunate than I to reflect on, and I am fully aware of how lucky I am and will take my hefty dose of pain over the things that others are dealing with health-wise ANY day.

I remain flabbergasted by the gestures of love and support I get from many that I have met once, two hundred times or never (in meat space).
For many reasons, those gestures pull me through some pretty dark stuff so if you think I’ve not noticed a kindness, know that I have.
I am unendingly uplifted and grateful for the kindness of the singularly amazing and fascinating people that let me call them friend.  Thank you, to those it applies to. Special thanks to Roomie For Life, P.G. Holyfield and my hubby. It’s not easy rooming with me, but they spoil me anyways.

Now, it’s really hard to write a self-indulgent, whiney post like this, even though the hope is to remove any need folks may feel to ask after my health. I am thrilled when it doesn’t come up, although I am generally happy to answer questions as long it doesn’t linger too long or turn too dark.

When you see me, I may have one or both wrist braces on. Same may be true of my knees or ankles. I may be using a cane. I don’t want to need them, but I’m accepting them as necessary tools for me right now, on occasion. And while I’m trying, I’ve not yet hit the “you have to be able to laugh about it” stage. It’s all still ill-fitting yet, but I’ll try not to spill Awkward on you.

I have to take breaks, the more strenuous the activity, the more often. That’s why I am so rarely out and about in the crush of the big events at conventions and spend a lot of time resting in my room recovering from or hoping to prevent some pain or symptom or another. Sadly, as was driven home again last Saturday, all the rest in the world won’t make my body able to get up and moving, but I fight really hard before giving in on time with friends.

But, I am fine.

Really.

Now, let’s get back to the giggles.  M’kay?

Tomorrow, Dragon*Con 2012, Part 3: Magical Friday, or, How I Met Jewel Staite.

Click here for my previous post on D*C ’12.

Categories
Convention Friends No Whining

Dragon*Con 2012, Part 1

I’ve decided the 20+ draft blog posts are going to be posted with some regularity, even if unfinished. Since our family podcast, Into the Blender is having drastic changes discussed, I’ve decided to brain dump family journal stuff here. Some will require what seems like unattainable bravery, so they may not ever see the light of day. But I have two memory journals that I’ve filled in the last year or so, maybe there will be something worth sharing there if I run out of things to post about.

Rather than grabbing a stale post I thought I’d do a (To The Best of My Memory)Dragon*Con Timeline in bits and pieces. I can’t work on my photos until my craptop is rebuilt anyways. I will work on the drafts as I come to them and as my mood strikes. Some may seem out of date, but that’s how I roll now, apparently.

Of note: No matter who you are or how I feel about you, I will likely have forgotten some of our time together. Part of the high cost of having a multiple health issues requiring loopy making meds? You don’t get to choose what or who you forget. That’s why photos are so important to me. I rarely drink alcohol because of the risks of interaction with some of my medications, yet I still have a faulty memory, far more faulty than ever before. If I don’t type it here, it doesn’t make the time any less special. And the photos I’ve seen so far from hubby and friends: Bruce Press, P.G. Holyfield, Tony Miller, Timothy LeGower and many others, have been both laughter and horror inducing (sometimes I have so much fun I forget to think about camera ninjas).

So, Day 1 of our trip, to be told in a rambling fashion as things occur:
Chooch and I left NoVA on Wednesday morning and after a DMV FAIL on our part (solely our fault for procrastinating), we arrived in Charlotte, NC that evening. We stayed at our BFF PG Holyfield’s lovely home, and he cooked dinner for us and some dear and local friends, Shawn and Jess Murphy, and also a new friend. We had lots of fun and laughter, and I always love seeing them. We got to share some extra wicked giggles, and even coined the phrase that would remain with us for the whole of the weekend and beyond.

Wonderful, clever people, but after they left I’m drawing a blank on the rest of the night. I think the boys did played Gloom while I tried to stay awake? I do know there were giggles, but that is nothing new when the three of us get together. Chooch had “night before” jitters for the long drive and couldn’t sleep on Tuesday night, but slept well on Wednesday night.

Thursday morning had us out the door for the drive to Atlanta (after doing the dinner dishes from the night before, fearing the repercussions would make it impossible to reenter the house upon our return. I think after two separate years, we can include Bojangle’s as an official tradition on our D*C road trip. (BoRounds, people!) After much enjoyment on my part on the long, but too short trip road trip, we got to the hotel and headed to the parking garage to prepare to unload.

I did have a moment of lamentation over having seen no costumers yet, chalked it up to being only Thursday and then heard an engine revving in the parking garage. We turned to find the Speed Racer car pulling around a corner. Yes, we were in the right place! *sigh* Dragon*Con!

We got checked in and got settled and headed off for con registration. At PG’s suggestion, we did onsite registration this year instead of pre-registration, and only invested about 10 minutes total as opposed to the over 2 hours we spent in 2009. (It was in the company of Patrick McLean, so don’t feel too bad for us.) Yay for Thursday arrivals! The line for the store was longer than registration, so we skipped getting lanyards and such.

We kicked off our arrival by splitting up – PG off to get prepped for the Star Party and us to meander and find food off property. I was greatly disappointed that someone I had planned on spending the rest of the day with had something come up, but we girded our loins and decided to  have a magical time regardless. First stop: Subway! Don’t laugh, it was the closest thing to real food that was packed full of people. Then to the room before heading to the bar.

Our permanent reset point was the Hilton hotel bar, which turned out to be where we ran into most of the folks we now. As we were being seated, the waiter excitedly told us that Lieutenant Uhura was at the bar and it was the most exciting person he’d ever seen in person. Working at the hotel that hosts Dragon*Con, that’s really saying something. Sure enough, there sat Nichelle Nichols, the original bridge hottie. She was there with another woman, but that beautiful face was impossible not to recognize. She had silver hair and this low-cut blouse on, fully rocking the ensemble and we were agog. Seeing THE LIEUTENANT UHURA within hours of our arrival? Toasts all around our table for our sighting, which she quickly beat out of there when she realized people were recognizing her.

We saw many friends. We made new ones. We laughed and giggled and told stories. We ended up in our room with hubby setting up the PS3 for gaming breaks between panels, etc., and we settled back and stayed up too late, as per usual.

There are hundreds of photos that document the weekend and I’d have to go through them to identify all we saw and when. I’m too impatient and will add another post linking to my photos in Flickr, with some going in to Facebook as well. I’ll also correct any faulty memory bits. But Nichelle Nichols? That was pretty bad ass. No pictures, because we respected her clear desire not to interact at that moment, but the memory remains.

Part 2 will be coming along soon, where I will likely be documenting what I call Magical Friday. Travel tip: I never stay away from home without the gorgeous and travel tested bottle set I bought from my beloved friend’s Nineteen O’Three Etsy store. Over more than a year of hard travel use, with no peeling, fading or bubbling of the labels. They are wonderful quality and the unique designs make the exact bottle I need easy to spot even if the text is out of sight.

I have a brand new set of these bottles to give away, even though I want to keep them for always. Watch future posts for info on how to enter.

Favor: PLEASE make comments here on the site instead of in Facebook or Twitter or G+. I may never see them and will certainly never see them when reviewing posts in the future. I would love pictures linked to, stories I’ve left out, anything that could make the memories come back or the ones I do have linger longer. To feel safe to do this, some of you may need to know that…

Of Important Note: I not only don’t capture email addresses to use, I wouldn’t know how even if I wanted to sell you out, which is not my style. Even if so, I would have to get Chooch to help me, and he would refuse. So, don’t worry about US using your email address, ever. They don’t go into my email address book or anything like that. Feel free to comment. Or not. Whatevs!

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Quarters

Yesterday I realized that my nearly two decade habit of always having quarters or a few $1 bills in my wallet had somehow ended.

I had learned early on that after a long day of running errands with me, for my kid(s) and I, the difference between sanity and the heart of a screaming inferno, begging for release via insanity was as thin as a quarter. Yes, this was before smart phones/tablets/iDistractions and I’m also talking about the ages before Gameboys were appropriate.

One quarter (usually) could turn an impending meltdown from a miniature human into a happy child, when spent at a machine rack dispensing tiny rubber balls, wall walkers, miniature football helmets, fake gold chains, etc.,.

And of course, video games. The quarters and tokens typically got used up before I could steal a turn or turn away from a wee one and towards a distraction, possibly putting them at risk of getting into danger without a vigilant eye. Even with backup, I could rarely bring myself to take fun from the kids.

Back to yesterday, as we exited the theater after watching The Dark Knight Rises (Review: Bane = Cancer. Possibly in a future post?), we separated for a quick Rest in the appropriately appointed Rooms.  I didn’t see Chooch upon my exit, so I headed over to the theater’s game room to see if he was waiting there.  I saw the video games and smiled at the thought of our recent trip to Barcade in Philadelphia. For the first time in a long time (They are extreme dizziness and migraine triggers), I played video games.

I still don’t know if it was my recent game time  in Philly or my spirit rebelling against the spasms in my back, but I found myself reaching for my wallet. It was then that I discovered — no cash.

No quarters.

No quarters?

No quarters?!?!?!

Surreal but true, as the quarters sat unused after the boys moved out years ago. At some point, I just stopped carrying them, along with $1’s. Now, anything under a $5 bill goes in the Family Fun jar.

But wait, a glimmer of hope? Maybe the change machines take bank cards? Alas, $1 and $5 bills only. Stupid archaic machines. Swiper no swipey.

I surveyed the room and realized I’d have to cross the very large lobby to the ATM, then cross back to the Rest Rooms to try and get that broken into $5’s at the snack bar. Then, not to be forgotten in the calculation, the aforementioned back spasms made sure I knew they were still in attendance.

So, no games.

Newly Resurrected Rule:
Always have quarters in my wallet.

‘Cuz it’s my turn to play.