Okay, so, I owe you lot an Anime Boston report, a Padudu construction synopsis, and some in-progress shots of Mytho before I hit AnimeCentral (in Chicago) on the 11th. Right? Right. Lotsa stuff, but it'll get done.
However, in this instant I am so hopped up on cosplay-related adrenaline that I could die happy. Why?
Because Lionel's pic of my Phedre as Mara costume is on Jacqueline Carey's homepage. Her freakin' homepage!
(Screencap by the ever-lovely Valerie!)
Sunday March 18th:
Eventually I thawed out enough to contemplate getting into costume. Unfortunately, all the traipsing about in those heeled boots the day before had made me most reluctant to put Robin on again. Fortunately, I had stuffed some piratey odds and ends into my trunk just in case I could sneak away to a Piratesof the Carribean event that Red had invited me to. So, I set about braiding and fake-dreading and just generally making a horrid mess of my hair, then gave myself a half-assed black eye with some purple eyeshadow.
Then I snuck into the con center behind an arriving dealer and scurried off to the bathroom to assemble something. I ended up in a black peasant top, a brown microsuede corset, a black pleather tie-around belt (removed from a cute faux-vintage dress years ago), brown microsuede vambraces wrapped with dark grey rags, and black swishy pants tucked into sock-boots that matched the vambraces and corset. As a joke, I donned several several strings of fake black pearls, as well as one black pearl earring (my other ear had two big silver hoops--yes, I have three piercings).
It didn't look too bad for closet cosplay, truth be told. (Then again, most people probably don't have bits left over from a generic Lord of the Rings costume lying in their closets, either.) I dubbed it the "Generic Badass Bitch" and spent the day flicking off anyone who took my picture. It was fun, and people seemed to enjoy it. (There were some amusing moments with the stiltwaker and his "puppet." Oh, how I wish I had copies of those pictures!)
To kill time, I hit up the dealer's room and bought a shirt to support the con, then spent about 15 minutes talking to the creator of The Devil's Panties for the second con in a row. (She's such a hoot!) Then I went down to the viewing room to sit for a bit before I decided to get some real food.
I was devouring a personal-size cheeze pizza when Jill called. She and Gabs were upstairs, and they needed someone to take pictures before she shed her costume (Quistis is kind of toasty with all that vinyl). So I trotted up, we commandeered a table by the photo backdrop, and I took a few passable pictures of them.
A horribly annoying creature that goes around cons taking pictures (I refuse to call him a photographer, as no real photographer I've known has thought it appropriate to go around randomly shoving their camera in people's faces and snapping pictures ambush-style) came by and tried to give us flyers for a summertime Florida con (that shall remain nameless). None of us like that convention, so Jill hurled the card he forced on her back at him, and I jumped away from his outstreched hand like he was passing out the bubonic plague. The look on his face will be a source of hilarity to me until my dying day.
Gabs and I settled down at the table we'd taken over--after I helped her pull her wings off--and I set about finishing my baby pizza while Jill went to change. Gabs decided to amuse herself by improving my black eye. By the time she got done with me, I really looked like I'd been in a bar fight! It was great!
At some point we decided that it was time to get the various wig heads out of my trunk and head over to the panel building. Gabs was supposed to be conducting the Wig Making panel, and she had asked Jill and I to sit on it with her the week before. (Thus the multitude of severed heads in my trunk; it's hard to talk about wig techniques without visual examples.) The wig panel went pretty well, I think, especially considering that it was scheduled opposite the EGL and Prop Forge panels (always crowded venues). Some really stupid chatty girls came in towards the end, there, but it wasn't for long.
You see, about half an hour before we were due to be done (but around the time I needed to leave anyway if I was going to make the Pirates gig with Red), a staffer came in and told us that they had to shut down the con....because some doofus had set off fireworks inside the main building, which campus police had to regard as a bomb threat.
(W. T. F?! Fireworks? In public? INSIDE?! Genius, kids, GENIUS. You ruined the remainder of the day for lots of people, and reduced the poor con coordinator to tears. Way to go.)
So, the con abruptly over with, we took my severed heads back to my car, and I headed off to meet Red while Jill, Gabs, and Chan-Chan went to the Vortex for food.
After my Pirate-y afternoon, Jill invited me over (didn't have to work the next day, hurrah) and we had a pleasant evening with Gabs and Chan-Chan. They left in the morning for their home-state, and Jill and I finished our ongoing marathons of Escaflowne and Cowboy Bebop.
Honestly, I think the hours after the con got shut down were more fun than the con itself...
Saturday March 17-Sunday March 18:
Upon reaching the theater-type room where pre-judging was to take place, I immediately shed my coat and gloves (somehow I knew I'd be plenty warm for the next few hours), bellowed to the folks still sitting in the room that they needed to clear out to make way for the contestants, and joined Shorty in trying to figure out how to get the big projection screen to retract back into its little nest in the ceiling. Once we admitted defeat, Shorty started setting tables on end to create a makeshift privacy screen and sent me off to the Green Room to retrieve water bottles for the judges. I must admit, getting to fend off shrieking teen photographers with the words, "Sorry, Staff!" was mildly gratifying. (Yes, I am an attention-whore, but sometimes being surrounded by flashbulbs gets really old.)
Once back in the judging room, I stationed myself just inside the doors so I could both screen those coming in and make sure the waiting contestants were doing okay (and keeping it down). At least the new "judging time" slips made my life a bit easier. But, I still ended up having to shut the left half of both double-doors and stand in the doorway of the outer set. Why? Because people seemed to think that a contest pre-judging was something they should watch!
Seriously, I must have repeated the following about 6 billion times, often while physically blocking folks from just pushing past me: "Hi, are you in the costume contest? No? Well, we're having pre-judging in this room right now, and we're keeping it to just contestants...Because it will get loud and they contestants will get nervous if there are random people in the room, that's why. But you're welcome to join us for the actual contest, which will take place at six o'clock outside by the big metal spire...Just go straight out those glass doors, there, you'll see it."
Can you see why one disgruntled con attendee turned away muttering, "Sheesh, that has got to be the world's tiniest bouncer"?
Repeated slightly less often were my speeches for the contestants: "Hi, are you in the costume contest? Oh, okay, can I see your slip? Okay, we're on number (insert contest number at least 20 previous to contestant's, more often than not) right now, so you're welcome to come in and chill out, or you can go hang out for another half-hour or so. Okay, good luck. Oh, are you finished being judged? Remember, we're lining up by the post-office boxes at 5:30. No, no, there's no post office on campus! If you just go towards those glass doors and hang a right, there's a bunch of old-timey-looking post-boxes for students. Got it? Okay, have fun, and see you at 5:30."
This all got old very, very quickly. For a while a guy in a Jedi robe--the protective older brother of an underage contestant in a green Phoenix unitard--kept me company and served as auxillary bouncer. (An FX lightsaber suddenly glowing red and humming across the doorway is apparently sufficiently startling to get the attention of even the most oblivious teen.) His presence was especially handy when I had to run to Shorty for something (like how he wanted me to merge two groups with vastly different entry numbers, and if people who couldn't get into the packed contest could do walk-ons). Later, one of the male panelists from Cosplay 101 hung out with me for a bit, and at one point he declared "Holy crap, you're like...like...the Con Mom!" Plus, people kept asking for pictures of me in that damn doorway.
The worst though, was when I had thought it safe to slip into the room for a moment to check on two cosplayers in fur suits--the gal dons fur all the time, so I knew she'd be coping okay, but the guy was new at it and had looked a little overheated earlier, so I wanted to make sure he wasn't going to pass out--and this 40-something woman with garish shamrock earrings wandered in. At this point, I'd been "bouncing" for at least two hours, and was thirsty, tired, and distracted by the indeed-overheated Demon Seshameru in front of me.
So I called over "Hey, hey, are you in the contest, or looking for a contestant?" "No." "Okay, we're trying to keep it to just contestants right now, but you're welcome to join us outside for the contest at 6." The woman glared at me and said, "Miss, you don't have to say 'hey.' You should have said 'Excuse me, ma'am. I am not some teenager." And then she stalked out of the room. I just stood there, flabbergasted. Surely she could see that I didn't have the time or patience to be especially polite right now, and while I wasn't particularly rude, she's correcting my manner of address? When she was the one who had walked into a closed room?!
I'm still fuming about this particular indignity, can you tell?
At any rate, the day went downhill from there. An acquaintence of mine that had arrived too late to get into the contest was hanging around, hoping to get in, even after I told her the best I could offer her was a walk-on, and I felt bad. I tried to help line the contestants up, but Shorty was at the end of his temper and he just took over--granted, he did get them in order quickly, but with all the friendliness of an angry drill sargent. So I just wandered out the door and found a place in the freezing outdoor mini-amphitheater and watched the show.
I knew at that point that I had no desire to ever staff again. I had done this round as a favor to Shorty, but never again. NEVER!
After the contest, things got a little better. Jill was headed to the Josh Groban concert, but Gabs and her friend Chan-Chan, the two guy panelists from Cosplay 101, and Sparkles and Ber were all eager for food, so I went and changed (oh, that felt so good--Robin is still comfy, even slightly shrunken, but wearing any costume for 10 hours is exhausting) and then the lot of us headed for Ru San's.
Ooooooh, delicious udon noodle soup. I can never finish the whole thing, but it makes me all warm inside, so it's worth it. There were several hilarious moments at dinner, one of which actually featured a rare moment of wit from Yours Truly...
A male friend-of-a-friend (FoaF): "And who are these lovely ladies?"
Another male FoaF: "Oh, these are just some hookers we picked up on the street."
Women around the table : *glare*
First male FoaF: "Really? How much do you charge?"
Yours Truly: "Just for that, we're upping the price."
After stuffing ourselves to sickly, it was back to the con center to wait for Jill's concert to be over, as Gabs and Chan-Chan were staying at her place. Jill invited me along, as I really didn't want to drive an hour home, only to drive right back in the morning, but I didn't want to make her place too hella-crowded. Plus, there was supposed to be an all-night Ouran High School Host Club marathon, and as I'd recently been addicted to that horrible crack by Valerie, I thought I'd go and catch a few winks there if I needed to.
That was the plan, anyway. The staffers working the marathon, however, seemed to take it as a personal affront if anyone fell asleep. So they took to looming over sleeping marathoners, running through the room shrieking nonsense, and other undignified methods of waking people up. If it hadn't been so cold, I would have gone back to my car, pulled down the back seat, and slept in my trunk. But, as it was freezing, I instead slunk off to the bathroom upstairs...and found myself an unlocked panel room with a little nook that wasn't visible from the doorway, dragged two chairs over there, and crashed.
No, seriously. I slept in an abandoned con room. (An abandoned gaming room, no less. Oh, the fanboy funk...)
And I have never felt so pathetic in all my life. I will not be doing that again.
Anyway, after about three hours, I woke up, positively freezing, and made my shivering way back down to the marathon room. At least it was warm there. Plus, we were getting to my favorite part of the series. Around 7am, though, I was too hungry to stand it any longer. I scurried back to my car, turned on the heat, and scarfed a granola bar while savoring a Cherry Coke, hoping I could survive another day of this wacko convention.
(Incredibly late, but, hey, whatever. I promise there will be a big-ass progress update before Boston as well.)
Saturday March 17:
My day started much too early after having gone to bed much too late. (In my defense, Robin is a shitload of fabric to iron, and we all know what a wrinkly disaster cotton-based fabrics are after washing. Plus I had promised to make a "Kaiju Big Battel: More Better Fighto!" poster for Shorty, one of the head staffers.) I had volunteered to be a "Cosplay Guide," which basically entails standing in costume on strategic street corners around the Tech campus pointing the way towards the convention. Unfortunately, Cosplay Guides were supposed to be on campus before 9:30am. It takes me nearly an hour to get to that campus. And it takes me about an hour and a half to shower, paint my face, and get into Robin.
Yeah, you can count backwards. I was up EARLY. And my costume had shrunk slightly in the wash. Fabulous.
At least I already had all my stuff together the night before, so I actually did make it out the door on time. What got me was campus, as usual. 9:30am found me at Tech, but hopelessly circling looking for the street that would take me to the correct building! Thankfully, Shorty had his phone. Together we got me to the con okay, though I still take exception to his describing Cherry Street as having a big-ass tree on the corner. (ALL the intersections along North Street have trees of equal size on the corners. The tree in question is slightly larger, but that wasn't enough to catch my eye the first time I passed it.) Anyway, I got there, got parked, and fetched my trusty "MOMOCON!" signs from the trunk.
Shorty and I paired up and headed for the same corner we stood at last year. It's the intersection of two major streets on campus, so chances were good that the lost and confused would have to pass us at some point. Unfortunately, the weather had decided to take a 20 degree tumble the day before, complete with biting wind. (Note: petticoats are great for blocking wind and keeping your legs warm, but the rest of your limbs feel colder by comparison!) When I remarked that my Robin wig was going to need a combing once I got inside, Shorty quipped that I could just tell people that I was "Post-Coital Robin." (This is especially funny as Shorty is one of those people who gets squicked out by the idea of Robin x Amon because of the age difference.)
Around 10:30am we headed back inside. I discovered immediately that I was going to find it hard to get anywhere this year; not only were there about three billion more people in attendance than the year before, I was in costume this time, and a rather recognizable one at that.
I sat through Opening Ceremonies (which is usually rather funny at MomoCon, as the head staff always has hilarious shirts and an opening vid that spoofs on a popular tv show), then headed over to the separate building where they were having the panels (a new addition this year) to support some buddies who were running the Cosplay 101 session. Of course, I ran into Gabs, one of the panelists in question, on the way over. She was wearing these hilarious black and white shiny strappy stripper heels with black and white stripped socks, a long black skirt, and a black and white corset. This made my morning, especially the shoes.
We hunted down the panel room and found Sithy setting up inside. I found myself a seat in the second row, plopped my coat and gloves into it, and then traipsed off in search of a restroom. The nearest one in working order turned out to be upstairs. (If you've never attempted stairs in heels and full skirts, I don't recommend it.) And these stairs weren't any ordinary staircase, either. They were this funky shape that colleges the world over seem to love, but that prevent you from actually being able to use the handrails.
The only upside to this bathroom break was the dude who was running the AMV room bolting out to tell me what a fab Robin I was and if I wanted I could have one of the Robin DVDs for free. This was very nice of him, and I told him so. (I never did go get one. Drat.)
Once safely back in the panel room, the day actually started to get fun. A cosplay friend stuck his head in and wanted to know what the hell I was doing sitting in the beginners' panel--I told him I was there for heckling purposes. Then Sithy's husband, always hilarious, showed up and sat in the row behind me, and Jill came in, to much squealing from me. (Once you've survived 16+ hours in a car with someone, you either love them or hate them. I lurvs me some Jill!) We sat together to better heckle Sithy and Gabs and their fellow panelists. Sithy and Gabs had other ideas, however. During the panel they started referring questions to me and Jill (and Sithy's husband)! It's hard to properly tease people when they're telling other people that you're cool.
After the panel, I traipsed back to my car near the main building to fetch my lunch. (In another miracle, the food court was open this year, but I'd packed the damn sandwich so I was determined to eat it.) Then it was back to the panel building for a stint on the PSCS recruitment panel with Jill and Moony and some other folks at 2pm. Only that ended up being a very brief stint, because Shorty needed me back over at the main building to herd cosplay contestants through pre-judging at 2:30pm. So at 2:25pm I excused myself and scurried down the hill (no, really, there was a hill involved between the two buildings!) to do my stafferly duty.
[T-minus: 21 days]
Ohmigaw, has life been kicking my ass and keeping Vox off my radar. Weekend before last was MomoCon--that con report should be up fairly soon--and this past weekend my job turned me into a pained, sun-poisoned little red-limbed creature (I don't even want to think about how I'm going to cope with stark tan lines). But the other day I did manage to buy almost all the fabric I still needed for Mytho and Padudu (I just need to order Mytho's coat fabric to match Brooke's Fakir), and today I slammed out almost all the patternage for both of them.
Tomorrow's going to be an early day. Apparently I am best fueled by last-minute panic.
[T-minus: 33 days]
MomoCon's this weekend. It's nearby, and free, and I'm just wearing Robin, so it's a low stress affair. I'll be spending my time hanging with Jenn and Gabs and my cousin Gaz, and coercing unruly munchkins into behaving organizing the cosplay contestants for prejudging. (I guarantee that task will be one of the entertainment highlights of the weekend. Seriously!)
In preparation, Robin got a bath today. She's plenty sturdy enough to stand a trip through the washing machine, but I wasn't sure about color-fastness, so I scrubbed her in the deep-sink. (There was no dye leakage, hooray!) Man, and I thought that skirt was heavy while dry. She's thumping around in the dryer right now.
For the last month, though, I have been singularly unmotivated to work on cosplay. I don't know if I'm just burnt out, or intimidated by the costumes I have to do next, or just bummed about being poor (working on patterns is productive, but just not fun when you can't rush right out and buy the actual fabric), but I've gotten almost nothing accomplished.
And I have 33 days to make the entirety of Padudu and Mytho before I leave for Boston.
Are you feeling the panic? Because I am.
Thank god I get paid today.
Sunday February 18th - Monday February 19th:
Once back at Val's, I did a preliminary search for my lost license while I got out of Robin, and when I didn't find it, I had to suppress hysterics in favor of some much-needed sleep. (I am convinced that naps are godly, awesome, and absolutely essential for proper functioning of the brain some days. Why we quit being allowed to have them in kindergarten is beyond me. Workplaces should seriously have options for naptime; people would be much more productive.) I woke up around the time Val and Co. got back. A further search of the apartment still didn't turn up my license, so I popped on my coat, grabbed the Maglight out of Jill's SUV, and ventured out to search the graveyard.
That was kind of a stupid idea. There were no streetlamps in the 'yard, obviously, but there were ones in the neighborhoods around it, so my night-sight was kaput, and on such wide tracts of ground the Mag really wasn't doing me much good. Plus, in the dark it was hard to remember what path we'd taken through the stones and trees, so I was sure I would miss a 2" x 4" bit of white plastic.And, you know, I'm ashamed to admit it, but it was actually kind of creepy out there at night! So I fled back inside for a shower and packing.
We all played some Wario Wares Wii games (ohmigaw, so WEIRD!) together, then watched about half of Hoot before we gave it up as a lost cause (and agreed that Luke Wilson's career has definately taken a few hits in the crotch since Legally Blonde 2). Valerie couldn't get the My Little Pony and the Search for the Princess Pony (another joke gift--she and Verb are a riot) DVD case to open, so instead we all settled down to watch the middle arc of Princess Tutu. (There is so much awesomeness in Episodes 11-13, I swear it should be illegal for an anime to be that good...and it only gets better from there!) We all called it a night after that, since Brooke's flight was at the crack of dawn the nest day and we were all still exhausted.
Monday we car-trippers loaded up the car and got directions back home while Val took Brooke to the airport. Once we were all packed up and I was sure my license was no where in our stuff or the apartment, I traipsed out to the graveyard again.
I traced our path of the previous morning, and just as I was giving up hope, there was my license, lying on the ground by the one stone we actually took a picture of! (That was where the particularly big gust of wind had hit and flapped my coat all over, so I guess it flew out of my pocket in the chaos.) I bowed to the stone and thanked the resident--whose name I never did check--and skipped back into the apartment, much happier now that I wasn't going to have to think of a way to get to a DMV before work on Tuesday.
I think we must have left around 9 or 10, since we got back around 4:30PM, but I'm really not sure. The trip back just kind of passed in a haze of tiredness, con gossip, and delicious Subway sandwiches. (And caffine. There was a lot of caffine involved on Monday.) At least the wings were no longer in my lap. *winkwink*
Once back at Jill's, we said hello to all the puppies and then transferred my stuff to my car (Gabs was staying another night before driving the long road north to her place). It was prime traffic-time by then, and I had no inclination to go through The City during that kind of mayhem--traffic around here is terrifying enough when it's not rush hour--so I plucked Disc 4 of Tutu out of my stuff, stripped off all the horrid anti-theft wrappings, and we settled down to watch a couple more episodes...which turned into watching the entire disc (duh--once you start, you just can't stop)!
At any rate, I finally said my goodbyes and made that final hour-long trip home, wishing the entire way that the radio station would play something by the Dresden Dolls. Or that I had the opening theme to Princess Tutu on my iPod.
Or really that there was any auditory way to fool myself that the awesome trip was now over.
Sunday February 18th:
So we got to the OCCC and, lo and behold, everyone headed towards parking had taken some kind of Stupid Pill. So Gabs and I jumped out while Jill went to park, since we both had on serious heels and Jill had sensible shoes. Of course, we passed many Christian Communications convention-goers on our way up the concourse, and their reactions were fabulous. You see, without fail their eyes would first alight on Gabs, in her skintight latex and cleavage galore (she was SO HOT!), and they looked affronted and scandalized. Then their eyes slid over to me, dumurely garbed in Robin, and their faces relaxed a little bit.
Once out of earshot, I wondered aloud to Gabs if they would still approve of my costume if they knew that Robin is a witch. *chuckle*
I was already hungry again by the time we got up to the MegaCon lobby, so I got a smoothie, and everyone who asked for pictures while I was trying to convince it to be a smoothie (rather than a snowcone in a cup) got pictures of Robin slurping away as I was too tired to accomodate people by hiding my much-needed sustenance. Valerie and Brooke were waiting for the last few people in their Phoenix Wright group to show up, so we were all still just chilling in the lobby when IT happened.
Some little punk--and I mean little, as I could have broken this kid like the twig he was--came up to Gabby with his camera phone, said (in the most affected lilting voice imaginable) "Oh, let's get one of the camel toe," and snapped a pic of Gab's crotch.
I was too stunned to move. Gabs, fortunately, was not. She grabbed his tiny day-glo-bracelet-clad wrist and growled, "You (I don't remember what she called him). I could kill you with my shoes." I just stood there stupidly, staring slack-jawed at the audacious little bastard in his knit Hello Kitty hat and polo dress, hoping that Gabs really would stab him somewhere painful with those 4" stilletos.
"Could you really?" The kid was completely unfazed. No, seriously, he did not realize that he had done anything wrong and that he had every reason to fear for his life right now. I was still trying to convince my brain to do something about the situation. I did manage to sidle up next to Gabs for moral support.
"Yes, yes I could. That was totally uncalled for and I do not want that picture on the internet."
"I don't know what you're so upset about, but would you like me to delete your image?"
"Yes."
"Alright, I will." This kid still was showing absolutely no remorse. And his friends were gathering around, giggling, treating Gabs like she was being totally unresonable. I was getting angrier by the second, but my mouth still didn't want to work.
"No, now. I want to watch you do it."
"Okay, okay." Finally, as the boy belligerantly took his time about deleting the picture, I found my voice.
"Seriously, that was really rude. You don't go around taking pictures of people's crotches and saying that they have a camel toe when they don't." (*headdeskheaddesk* Lame, I know, but that's all I could come up with. I really wanted to toast his gonads, but sadly dressing as Robin doesn't give me her powers.)
"But it was hot. People want to see these things. Alright, dear, it's gone. Ta-ta." And the little brat wandered off, still completely unapologetic.
Gabs and I just looked at each other. "Oh. My. GOD." I gave poor Gabby a hug. "The little shit. Dammit, where's Jill, I don't want to wear this anymore, I want to swap. No, wait, where's security?"
"I don't see them," I said, "but let's go ask Danni." Danni was working the Information Booth again, and currently she was talking to Kat and Di...who were being accosted by Miss Bastard and his little group of friends. Once they had moved away we scurried over to the booth and I relayed the whole story to one of the older male staffers, who practically vaulted the desk and had Gabs point out the culprits. Then they went to go get Security. I turned to Kat and Di to chat, trying to keep the Asshole Crew in my peripheral vision so the wouldn't sneak off.
"Ohmigawd, who said that to Gabs?" Kat asked, horrified.
"Those kids over there, the one on the Hello Kitty hat."
"You're kidding!" Di piped up. "They just told Kat and I that we should switch drinks!"
"What?! Those little fucks!" You see, Kat, who is tall and thin, was drinking a Diet Coke. Di, who is cutely curvy, but by no means large, was drinking a regular Coke. Those kids were apparently just all kinds of horrid.
I wandered back over to our regular group, who had now been joined by their Phoenix and Edgeworth, still trying to keep the Little Idiots in view. Just then Valerie mentioned to me that she really needed to talk to Kat about our ACen room arrangements, though, so I went scampering back after Kat and Di, who were about to hit the dealers' room, to drag them over to Val. In this hustle I lost the Moron Squad, so when Gabs came back a few minutes later, accompanied by several large bouncer-type men, all I could do was point them in the general direction I had last seen them. (I was just all kinds of falling down on the job that day. It was quite depressing.) Gabs joined us a few minutes later. Apparently her insulters had disappeared into the maw that is the dealers' room.
The day is really a muddled mess in my brain after this point. I know we went into the dealers' room, whether to look for the Idiot Crew or for Jill I don't remember, but I do remember that everyone thought Gabs was the height of cool, especially as the artfully mussed hair was really hers (Jill wears a wig). And I remember that everyone kept walking into my pigtails and stepping on my dress (which only trails 4", so you have to be really damn close to me to step on it) until I followed Anna's example (see, I know she was there, but I don't remember why she was with us at the moment) and looped my shirt up over my arm. I was surrounded by the unwashed masses--literally, the dealers' room reeked--and it was so hot that I was beginning to suspect that my anti-perspirant had worn off or I'd fogotten to apply it, so sweaty was I getting. So we booked it out of there eventually. (Seriously, I don't remember why we were in there in the first place.)
We went and joined the Phoenix Wright crew off in the corner by the Kinko's / Fed-Ex store (they were eating lunch). Darling Kamanda had some good ol' anit-BO in her Edgeworth briefcase, so I bummed some to make myself feel better. Once back from the restroom I parked it.
Literally, I parked it. I lacked the energy to move. People left to go take pictures, people left to change, people left to go in the dealers' room, and there I sat in the corner, my skirts pooled around me and my coat piled next to me. Rex sat and chatted with me for a while, which was nice. I had fun pointing out to him that the beautiful figurine he'd just bought, which apparently featured a nine-year-old mage, was wearing a teensy black thong.
Eventually, my growling stomach necessitated that I get up and go spend my last few cash dollars on an overpriced basket of fries and a soda. Hilariously enough, a great many people in the food court were very impressed with my costume. I think I was declared "the best Robin ever" six times in two minutes. I managed to extricate myself from the kiddies, however, and slunk off to sit and eat by myself. (A guy named Greg came up at one point, introduced himself--shock! amazement!--and complimented me on my costume. He was relatively normal and very nice, so we had a nice chat about the extreme awesomeness that is Witch Hunter Robin, and how woeful it is that so few people have the patience to watch the whole series. He was the only person all weekend who got my "So, how would you like your Zaizen: crispy or extra crispy?" joke!)
Jill and Gabs eventually found me, sitting there, still working my way through my fries. Gabs pilfered a few as I was getting quite full. All three of us were very tired and borderline cranky, so when we hauled our asses up and hunted down the rest of the group a few minutes later, we elected to go back to Val's place to pack, nap, and look for my license (though not necessarily in that order) while the Phoenix Wright crew got some more pictures.
On our way out of the con we made sure to take a picture of Jill's left breast while she was in the Catwoman suit, expressly for the purpose of me Photoshopping a graffiti-styled "street" tattoo onto it later. *evil grin* (I can't wait to do that!)
The manager at Friendly's was very kind when I asked about my license, even though he hadn't found it. He had me write down the number, and asked a few questions about the convention and such. He also thanked us for being so patient and nice the night before, even through the bad-server fiasco.
Of course, during all this a girl ran up, declared "You're from Mega, you're dressed as Robin!" and proceeded to play with my pigtails. I did not bitch-slap her (I reeeeeaaaally wanted to), but rather pulled back and kindly asked her to be gentle with people's wigs, and went back to my business.
A quick rant: I'm not sure if it's because I started cosplaying in my twenties or due to my upbringing or whatever, but I'm really finding it harder and harder to tolerate the tiny teens with no social skills that run around conventions. Yes, everyone should have a place where they feel accepted and it's fine to be weird, but things like personal space and common courtesy need to be observed no matter what, and it seems to me like more and more people just don't understand that simple concept. It won't stop me from going to conventions, but I might have to start getting downright mean with them. I'm that irritated. Okay, back to your regularly scheduled con report!
Thoroughly disgruntled about my lost license and the Wig-Molester--whose friends were calling to me from across the restaraunt to come talk to them, ferchir'sakes--I scurried out the door to the safety of Jill's SUV, quite ready for us to be back at Val's place, free of the idiot masses, wigless, in pajamas, and, most importantly, blissfully unconscious.
Sunday February 18th:
Come sunrise (literally), my alarm didn't wake me up right away. No, it went off long enough to wake Jill (the light sleeper), and she called out "Hey, Leigh, you're alarm's going off." That's what woke me up. And then it still took me a good twenty seconds to process that my cell phone was indeed the source of the light and noise located somewhere around my right ear. (This little ancedote should explain to everyone my horrendous attendance at all morning classes during college.)
Shivering, as February is the month of pleasantly cool days and oddly freezing nights in Orlando, I finally convinced myself to crawl out of my quilty coccoon and get my ass costumed and makeuped. Wisely, I'd left my contacts in (they're the extended wear kind, so even with my horrific tear chemistry I can get away with leaving them in overnight once in a while), so that saved me a few minutes of prep time. I knocked on Val's door right before I started putting my wig on so she could have a few minutes to bumble around and get dressed herself while I completed that tedious task.
Once we were both bundled up, it was out to the graveyard behind Val's building. (It was nearing 8AM by the time we left the apartment, but it was cloudy, so the light was still very early feeling.) Upon entering, we announced ourselves to the residents, thanked them for letting us use their abode for pictures, and apologized in advance should we accidentally step on anyone's head. (Usually I am not superstitious, but it never hurts to be nice!) Then we tromped over to a tree and Val started shooting.
The lighting was great, and while it was a bit windy, that just kind of added to the pictures. There was this great tree that looks perfectly normal from Val's balcony, but is actually growing up and over backwards, almost perpendicular to the ground, when you see it from another side. (I know that makes no sense, so I'll be posting the pic of it when I get it from Val!) There was another tree that was hollowing out on one side, so I hunkered down in it a bit. Then we searched for a cool headstone to feature the back of (for devious photoshopping purposes). There was a huge gust of wind as we were taking the headstone pics that blew my coat all over the place. That made for some really cool "Gee, Robin just set something on fire," type pictures. Eventually, cold and hungry, we booked it back inside. Everyone else was still asleep, so Valerie and I munched on granola bars and watched AMVs on YouTube until the rest of the apartment started to stir.
Once Jill and Gabs were functionally awake I gleefully cracked out my Witch Hunter Robin DVDs, which I had brought for one purpose: to recreate my favorite shot from the opener, where Amon is on the TV and Robin is stroking the screen wistfully. Hilariously, while we were attempting this feat Val told me to "Look more horny!" which apparently worked, as in the shots after that (once I stopped laughing) I have the appropriate lustful/desperate expression on my face.
After that, everyone else started getting ready in earnest, so I watched a few eps of Robin while they bustled around. Gabs joined me on the couch once she had most of Jill's Catwoman suit on, remarking that I had no idea how weird it was to see Robin sitting calmly on the couch watching Robin on TV. Jill (now transformed into Wonder Girl) joined us shortly after that, and we rewatched two of the episodes of Tutu from the night before because Jill had missed some important stuff. Then it was off to the car.
Or rather, it should have been. As we were heading out the door, I realized that my driver's license (which I had been keeping on me as ID) wasn't in my coat pocket anymore. I was pretty sure that I'd had it when we left Friendly's the night before, but I couldn't be sure. Showing a remarkable amount of self -control (no, seriously, I can really freak out about shit like that), I resolved not to worry about it and ruin everyone's day. Instead I stuffed my DoD ID in my pocket, checked under the seats of Jill's SUV, and decided to check Lost and Found and to stop by Friendly's to ask about it on the way home that afternoon. And that was mostly the end of that.
Though, it wasn't the end of the Sunday drama. Oh no. The best (or rather, worst) of that was yet to come.
Saturday February 17th - Sunday February 18th:
Friendly's was an adventure in many good ways...and in many ways no restaraunt trip should ever be. >_<
Saturday night on International Drive is madness. No, seriously, it's madness. When you take into account that about half the people on the road (maybe even two-thirds) are tourists, people doing things like turning left from the middle lane (someone did this in front of us! Jill and Gabs are my witnesses!) makes sense, but is still farking insane. Of course, this meant that Friendly's was really damn packed, mostly with ordinary families and eldery couples.
Val's car beat ours there by a few minutes, as did Danni's crew, but as we stood there, waiting for a table, it became apparent that the hostess had not put our name down when they got there because the whole party wasn't present. Whatever--no biggie. (Though many of us were already so hungry that were were willing to start gnawing on furniture or even possibly resort to cannibalism to silence our yowling innards.)
So we just hung around the claw-game machines, critiquing the mutant stuffed animals within. (Furry green frogs in snorkling gear and European swim trunks = wtf?! "Oh no! NEKO-SENSEI! He's TRAPPED!" There was also a blue Disney-esque looking mouse in there, so we made up this long tale about how he was Mickey's less successful gay cousin who was driven to drink and eventual drug overdose by his relative's eclipsing fame.) Some guy bumbled by and asked Verb why he was surrounded by so many girls and Jill quipped "Pay me $50 and I might consider talking to you." The dude stared at her for a second, as if trying to work out whether or not she was seriously a whore. It was a beautiful moment.
Most everyone else had changed, but I was still in Robin. This resulted in some really awesome slack-jawed stares when Gabs and I wended our way all the way through the entire restaurant to the restrooms, bwa-aa-aa. (I've really started to enjoy walking around in public in costume during cons, just because it's fun to mess with people's ideas of normalcy.)
When we got back from the restroom, the rest of the group informed us that the father of the large group behind us had complained and bullied his way into being seated...while his children had gleefully scribbled all over the hostess stand restaraunt diagram! *twitches* (I love kids, and I generally love people, but one thing I learned over the 18 months I spent waiting tables was that people seem to think that being "served" means they can treat you like dirt, keep you from doing your job, and let their children run wild. It's enough to drive anyone to misanthropy.) Our group made sure to tell the manager, who had taken over the hostess duties and was being very kind to everyone, that we were terribly sorry he had to put up with people like that. (This will come into play later.)
Finally we did get seated at two adjacent booths, so while our group was split, we could still talk. I was sitting with Val, Verb, Anna, and Brooke, while the other table consisted of Gabs, Jill, Danni, and Danni's man (I feel like I'm forgetting someone...) Strangely enough, the booths apparently belonged to two different servers. (This too shall come into play.) Our server was a nice, attentive, fairly attractive young man. (He was being tailed by a woman, but I wasn't sure if she was training him or if he was training her. We never did figure that out.) We got our drinks sorted out (Friendly's water is safe, whoo!) and settled down to talking.
Gab's ingenius spoon-dragging-a-knife interpretation of Pyramid Head, first concocted back at Cracker Barrel, made an encore appearance at both tables to much laughter.
By the time we had our food, however, the other table hadn't even gotten their drinks! And their waiter was bitchy about it! Poor Gabs' face went all red (with stark white blotches around her eyes and nostrils--she proclaimed herself a "red oni" when I told her about it) with irritation and low blood sugar as she told the manager about the problem. He immediately assigned their table to our server and everything got straightened out. (See, I told you all that stuff would come back into play. It pays to be nice.)
My shrimp basket was absolutely delicious, and everyone else at both tables seemed equally delighted with their food. Of course, as this was Friendly's, ice cream had to be ordered (it's so good that it always seems criminal not to get any), so Brooke and I devoured a Cookies and Cream Sundae. Ohmigaw, so damn tasty. A dad from the next table over stopped by to ask what was up, so I told him about MegaCon, knowing he would understand since he had an "M&M Wars" ballcap on. (Think Star Wars with M&Ms filling in for the main characters. It's quite hilarious and geeky, I assure you.) He told his familiy that there would be a detour to the Convention Center the next day, much to everyone's amusement. Some folks I knew that happened to also be at Mega stopped by the table to say hi, too.
Eventually we decided it was time to go. Jill and I, with Gabby's help, managed not to get lost on the way back to Val's this time. (Jill cracked that just about the time she finally figures out her way around a convention city, the convention's over and it's time to go home.) Everyone piled onto the couch to watch more Princess Tutu, which of course was at the place in the series where things start to change and really grip you. We called it quits at episode 10, partially because if you watch 11 you have to watch 12 and 13 too, and partially because poor Jill kept nodding off at crucial moments due to sheer exhaustion.
Crashing then was a good idea anyway, as Valerie and I had decided that just after sunrise would be the best time for the graveyard Robin photoshoot. So I set my cell phone alarm for 6:30AM (UGH!) and curled up in my obnoxious quilt, excited and eager for morning to come.
