Pantheacon is always one of the two greatest weekends of my year.* It is consistently delightful and yet always surprising. And not many events can make that claim.
January is always busy for me: Once my Pagan Humor seminar is finished (code freeze!), then begins the work of turning the pieces back into individual stories and then into blog posts. It is a labor of love, but it is a labor.
Prep for Pcon was pretty smooth around the Freaky Tiki. Both Admiral Karen and I bought some new clothes, which is very rare for us. Packing for me was a delight as I had lost 30 pounds since last year and I fit into all sorts of outfits that were formally out of bounds.
Including the leather pants, which I had forgotten that I even owned. (foreshadowing)
How did I drop from 245 to 215 in 6 months? By following the E.L.E.M. diet. I recommend it heartily. All of you who are a little heavy (or a lot) could benefit from this revolutionary breakthrough in Weightloss Technology.
Just kidding. E.L.E.M. stands for: "Eat Less, Exercise More."
And have Pcon circled on the calendar.
So, 5184 push ups and 10,800 crunches later I was feeling pretty good about myself.
|And, I lost another 1/2 pound DURING Pcon.|
That may be a bigger feat than the 30 pounds.
Admiral and I Checked in at 6:30pm on Thursday night and were shocked to find a line ahead of us. I mean, it was only 4 people, but it looks like the secret of checking in a day early is slowly getting out. We remained calm and got through this 10 minute ORDEAL.
And after all the rigamarole of 'winning' the Room Lottery, we almost didn’t get a room on the pool side of the hotel. But I worked for years in the Hospitality Industry, and I know the front desk clerk shenanigans.
Nice try, honey, but I know all about dumping people to the crappy side of the building. Don’t pull that sleight-of-hand with me - I was juggling rooms while you were still in short pants. Now, make with the cookieage. No, thank YOU.
The reward? A luggage cart. Those things are as rare as Morals around here!
We were in Room 664 - so we were The Neighbor of the Beast. It was cool though. A little sulphur escaping under the door and the occasional muffled scream - no biggee.
We had Dinner at the Matrix Sports Bar across the street, with Jason Mankey, Kenny Klein, his lovely partner Lauren and some other friends of ours. Great service, cute waiter and an excellent Reuben sandwich plus fries for $12.00 - What's that Cafe Ho-Hum? Were you saying something? I didn't think so.
Jason and I then leave our own party at the Matrix to go help the Green Fairy Party set up in 1054. (And me, being me, I brought my own blue tape.) The pretty hair twins get right to work with the shittiest job of all - hanging a mile of christmas lights around the ceiling of both rooms. What makes this kind of work passable is the one thing that was missing from this scene: No music!
So I go back to my room and grab my iPod and boom box. Soon polkas, creepy video game cuts, punk anthems and lounge covers are pervading the suite and we're all happily hammering away like the 7 dwarfs.
While I was in the bedroom, hanging more lights, I hear my iPod being taken off and someone else’s put on. Soon, dreary Goth soundscapes ooze into the suite. 5 minutes later my ‘Pod is back on and Swing music has us all bouncing again. Haha! My playlists are invincible!!
I took a picture of the main bar, because it was covered in bottles of booze. As soon as I did that the REAL alcohol showed up. Two full luggage carts worth! Case after case after case after case I unloaded until we had filled up the bar area completely. Impressive!
Jason and I left before the real, nitty gritty detail work on the room began. Nice folks at the Green Fairy Party, but they know what they want their altars to look like. We'd just be in the way.
The Pretty Hair Twins headed back to the Neighbor of the Beast and we watched the Olympics with Admiral Karen for a bit.
A great appetizer evening.
|This will keep the Green Fairy Party going for|
approximately 15 minutes.
Thursday night was not a good sleep for me though. I was tormented by a dream that every song in the world was a Bruce Springsteen song. And you could sing every song to the tune of every other song - but only if you had the baritone vibrato honk of The Boss (shudder).
On to FRIDAY!
On to FRIDAY!
*The other weekend is Solaris, where I spend 4 days in the forest with 35 witches, a pancake griddle and a wood-fired hot tub.