Farsighted
Oni-Con 2009 wasn't scheduled to start until Friday, October 30, but for us it began much further than that. April 12, 2009, Easter Sunday, we walked out of the Woodland's Marriott with the weight of eternity bearing down our shoulders. The glimmer of Oni-Con was small and far, but it had to do. We were more than just three kings following a star. Summer did not only signify the entrance into vacation, but also the marker for the opening of pre registration. It didn't come. And like when all good things that do not came, we freaked. But only a miniscule freak, after all there was still time. Our wounds were barely being cared for before change took another stab. The location had been moved. Instead of taking place in the always accommodating George R. Brown Convention Center, it was now being held in a smaller venue known as the Westchase Marriott; a lovely hotel by any means, but incapable of filling such high demands. We beared our strikes, one after another. The official website only dimmed our light. It was already August; the end of Summer, and the site still contained event information from the 2008. We bitched. We moaned. Prayers only answered a little over thirty days from our livelihood. We paid our dues and waited. And waited.
October 29, 2009
It rained. It rained with such furiousness. My Plymouth Neon and I trudged through at miles much to slow for these roads, but safety was number one; tomorrow was the day after all. Visibility was rare and all the lights were out. Winds tore at my car, attempting to throw me off. With luck I made it, but I still had to go to work. Ten o’clock post meridian rolls around and I’m out of there. Kevin meets me at my house and we rest. We need our rest.
October 30, 2009
Twelve hours later I showered, then he showered and we were off. Before we could head off we needed food; not just for us but for the room too. This year the fotz only need one room. Coed. Oo la la. Kevin and I took a detour at Which Wich and got the usual Grinders, a northern sandwich and oh so delicious. But twelve o’clock at a sandwich shop is a hoppin’ place, and time slipped away. Then we needed groceries, $31.14 worth to be exact. Water, Gatorade, Lunchables, Double shots; you know, the essentials. Next we needed cash. I went into the bank. I leave the bank. Already I’m a $150 in the hole (I only paid for $16 worth of the groceries). Finally we’re there. Finally. It was about three o’clock, that’s how finally it was. Lindsay had already been there for a few hours and was ready to meet us with our badges. Kaitlin met us minutes later. The side lobby we entered in through did not bode well for size or organization. Before we headed over to the dealer’s room we took a speedy detour around artist alley only to find a secret. The Secret. Or maybe “a” secret. Okay, more like a secret dealer’s room. No wait, a second dealer’s room; such an oddity that only occurred thanks to the not grandiose enough size of the hotel. Nevertheless this room was the epicenter of a long line of purchases to come. Though I only made a single purchase in this room on a later day, it was the site in which Kaitlin bought me my birthday present; a Revoltech Gurren Lagann figurine. Sparks imploded and I need more. With my excitement blossoming to find more, we headed to the main room. As the four of us arrived in to the main dealer’s room, it seemed it when on forever. Though it was indeed long, the space was unfortunately narrow and obvious not spacious enough to hold the amount of con-goers Oni-Con usually rounds up. My attack was swift and painless, three new Revoltech figurines within ten minutes of being in the room: Eva Unit 01, Eva Unit 02, and a Massed Produced Eva Unit. Oh how glorious, but we still needed our rooms to drop off my Godly loot.
At this point we found that Kevin made a grave mistake. With all seven of us sharing one room, which has two full beds, that would make four people sleeping on the beds which left a remainder of three. “One fotz, two fotz, three fotz on the floor,” as the count would say. These three needed sleeping equipment, this sleeping equipment was the responsibility of one Kevin Barber, this Kevin Barber was the man that left this sleeping equipment in the closet of his home. After finally arriving he had to head back, but this gave Kaitlin and Lindsay time to wait in the check in line, a lovely forty minute wait. Shortly upon our return, Angie, Bianca and Chrissie arrived about eighty-three hours late. We found ourselves hungry so we ventured to La Madeline where we dined, danced, and beat up old women. Only a percentage of that is true. After stalking over the bodies we destroyed, we headed back to the con and into room 670 of the Westchase Marriott and filled out our Great Pumpkin/Magic Pumpkin/Secret Pumpkin/Great Magic Secret Pumpkin from a distant future sent to blow our fucking minds away/Secret Santa 2.0 forms.
Then to the concert, which was shit to say the least. The first band that played was just some Japonphile loser who wished he was more famous then he was. Buranden (Romaji for Brandon) was a man, if you could call him that, of Anglo-Saxon blood who tried to sing in Japanese. His full name is Brandon McInnis for Christ’s sake, who is he trying to fool? At one point he boasted about touring in Japan, which impressed me about as much as Bangs did in his attempts. The band also attempted to do a change from “pop” to “rock” midway, but it still sounded like a bunch of the same bullshit to me. On “Buranden’s” website, which is (of course) just a myspace, the “about me” section claims that “Buranden” is “trained as a classical opera singer” and “perform[ed] such roles as Figaro in Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro.” The blood from my ears, however, begs to differ. The band left none too soon and then Satsuki emerged. This performance I didn’t like or dislike. I was completely apathetic towards it the whole time he was up there. He sang alone to pre-recorded music, played a few instrumental ballads and left. I took about as much time to notice him as I would a piece of trash on the carpet. Apathetic. The next band, however, was simply pathetic. Echostream was their name and boring me to tears was their game, apparently. The singer had a voice that would have went well with the right type of music, and the music would have went well with the right type of voice; however Echostream decided to mix fish with peanut butter and the result was vomitrocious to put it kindly. The set they played was about six thousands songs to long, and I couldn’t take it any longer. Question Oni-Con coordinators: Where, in all your holiness, did you find it a good idea to have four bands play one night? Kevin and I were in the same boat so we left before the Main Event.
In room 670 Kevin proceeded to draw and I just read the first volume of Monster, one of two volumes I bought in the dealer’s just before the concert. We could hear the music blasting from Born within the concert hall, but it was nothing I found exciting. Eventually the girls came back enthralled. I could feel the aura from their wet panties as the walked in. They got a little too excited. They moaned of Japanese men making out with each other, crowd surfing, and groping. Angie brought up possibly one of the greatest, most profound philosophical inquiries, “There is his crotch. Should I grab it?” Oh moral implications and the hearty debates such an inquiry could possibly cause. The old sophomore college students were tired, but the two freshmen were still young and excitable so they decided to run down to the dance that followed. As each girl showered one after the other unfortunately, I decided to have some fun. I put on Lambdse’s pink plaid winter vest with a hood trimmed with faux fur and paraded around the room with it. At one point I was sucked into the poltergeist inside the cabinet of the entertainment center and at another point Kevin was wearing my cardigan, quite the sophisticate. Then I tried on Chrissie’s teal neckerchief, and though originally I was against neckerchiefs, I found that I actually looked good in one. Shortly after Angho and Bistank twittered that they were now in the hentai room. God knows why. I will admit one thing and only once, though yoai is evil, at the least it generally has good art. Hentai is just disgusting smut. And there among the smut they found Trey. Of course. They came back and we slept. Two thirty ante meridian.
October 31, 2009
Halloween. We set the alarm for nine-ish but none of us got up until ten. Kevin showered first as punishment for making me sleep in the sub-arctic tundra. After taking a million hour shower, I showered then Angie showered and we were out of there… at around eleven-thirty. We all headed down to artist alley, but at some point we were torn asunder and I was with Kevin, Bianca and Angie were together, and Chrissie, Kaitlin and Lindsay were having a threesome off somewhere. I was Kevin’s gift giver so I had much difficulty in the dealer’s room scooping at the good gifts. “Should I get my secret pumpkin this naked Gackt poster?” I probably would have gotten punched but maybe it would have been worth it. When we went back to the room we met up with Chrissie and decided to join our threesome instead, we all know how she likes the boys. On the way down the elevator we meet Chrissie’s best friend advertising free hugs from her hotel window. What a whore. Elevator wait was about as fun as a punch to the testicles. The hotel, for reasons due to likely a lapse of mental retardation, had no conventional stairs that guest could access. All stairs were barred by alarm and lock, and designated for Emergency use only. Um, excuse me, I’m at a fucking convention and getting downstairs as fast as possible is a matter of emergency. The only port of transportation up and down these six floors was four elevators. There was a fifth elevator, but it may or may not been aborted by its whore of a mother since we never once saw it in use.
As Kevin, Chrissie, and I walked around artist alley I joked about getting my secret whatever-the-fuck a cake ring to which the main gauche replied, “Oh I know who you have, you have Kevin!” A reply which I took seriously, stupidly. “Shit how did you know?” “Um I was just kidding.” Then I kicked her straight in the cunt. Hyperbole. Well the cat was out of the bag, the skeleton came out of the closet and so I told Kevin to wait in the room while I got him something awesome. Chrissie and I went to go the dealer’s room where we found for the first time ever a line. Apparently the dealer’s room, to everyone’s surprise, was getting over crowded so they had to only let in a few people at a time. At one point an ambulance came and hauled some girl who had a seizure. Oh joy. In the room of dealers, I got Kevin a model, not a figurine but a model of Enki from Gurren Lagann, and Chrissie got Lindsay the Kingdom Hearts Riku charm she wanted. Back to room 670, we waited for Kevin to return with my room key and then we were off to the bank to receive more gil, or gold, or rupees, or dollies, or whatever. Upon return Kevin quickly bought Bianca the Atari hat she yearned for from the overflow dealer’s room and we headed back to 670 to prepare for free chipotle.
The challenge: Wrap yourself in foil for Halloween making you look normal in a convention, but like a freak at the Chipotle parking lot. The prize: Free Chipotle burrito. Angie in all her royalty dawned a crown of foil with a make shift tortilla toilet paper in the center. She used tape from a pad (yes that kind of pad) to stick to obtuse triangles just below her eyes. Bianca went with “jihad terrorist chic” sporting foil around her face and a head band only revealing her eyes. Chrissie took her direction into “neo-neko of piratedom” with a makeshift aluminum eye patch, gauntlet and eventual tail. Kaitlin used a simple head band. Kevin wore foil bangles as well as a finger or two wrapped in foil. Lindsay created a well designed mask using the plastic used to hold drinks together and foil. I, of course, in my entire splendor, went with ever fashionable foil fundoshi and armored arms. Chipotle always reaches its peak perfection when it is free, and all of our stomachs sang with joy. I was so happy I may have stomped on a puppy. But surely I did not. Maybe. At first the proprietors of pleasantness would not allow us joy, claiming the event was not till six; but Lindsay’s promising prowess perfectly placed us peacefully uh phed. Or fed.
With our stomachs full (all of us finished our burritos whole) we headed back to add to this euphoria to give and receive gifts. We decided to wrap our gifts in the remaining aluminum foil and write the names on top. The exchange went as follows: I got Kevin the Enki model and Capricorn pin from Kinein Aqua, Kevin got Bianca the Atari she wanted, Bianca got Chrissie a Gintama sin doujin, Chrissie got Lindsay the Riku charm, Lindsay got me Kiiroitori, a fotz Axel badge (both she also got for herself) and a free sampler of manga sutra, Kaitlin got Angie cute Super Mario 3 tote bag, and Angie got Kaitlin the wrong gift. Why? Because Angie is our lovable idiot. Aw. I’m only kidding of course. I think. Kaitlin explicitly stated in her form that she wanted a white monokurobu with a black polka dotted parasol to mach the black one she already has. As we should have already learned, Angie doesn’t know English. She even failed to write her name on her form. While the rest of us got ready to watch the cosplay contest later, Angie ran down to the dealer’s room, cut in line, and successfully traded in the wrong gift for the right one. The rest of headed down and waited in line like decent, honest human beings and walked around the dealer’s room for a while. Originally the room was to close at six, then they pushed it back to seven, then further back to eight. Such organization. We left the room a little before eight to wait in line for the cosplay contest, something we would regret as a massive waste of time.
We waited in the line, which snaked around a courtyard went out and stretched to beyond the front of the lobby main entrance. Waiting in line meant one thing and really just one thing only, pictochat. And what’s pictochat without penises, vaginas, and death? Nothing, I tell you, nothing! But thay ended and the pain began. As the line made its eventual forward movement into the concert hall, it became numbingly obvious we just simply wouldn’t fit. About twenty people before getting in, the all-knowers halted the line. There was no way we were not getting in. So basically we just took out those AK-47’s we hid in the Gloomy Bear pouches and shot the shit out of the people in front of us. Ten people ducked just in time, and we were out of ammo. We got a little over zealous. I pulled out the sword I had hidden in my pants and went to work on two individuals. I got the first one right in the face, but the second planted a kick right in my jaw. Lindsay jumped in and pulled a nice sweeping kick to the kid’s shins and his face hit the pavement with a crack. Everyone behind us jumped in the brawl. I had three kids on me in an instant; two kids dress as fatass L's and one Haruhi Suzumiya. I wielded my sword quickly and glanced at Angie and Bianca implementing double bicycle kicks to a couple of boys dressed as girls. I broke Haruhi’s nose with the hilt of my sword and ducked just in time for Kevin to throw his knife into the forehead of one of the L's. “Thanks, jackass” “Anytime.” Kaitlin had acquired two nunchucks from who the fuck knows where and was beating the shit out of the One Piece cast. Chrissie and I got swarmed by a bunch of fatties who didn’t know showers existed so we linked arms and the kick the shit of all of them. I felt a sharp pain in my back and turned to see… And none of that happened, because the real cosplay contest that happened was a little less than shit. None of the costumes really impressed me except the Princess Mononoke one. The skits made me come pretty close to slices my eyeballs. Apparently the announcer didn’t know how to read and kept stumbling on her words and blamed it on “technical malfunctions.” We could not leave soon enough.
Lindsay and Kaitlin decided to go to the Born autograph signing, so Angie, Chrissie, Bianca, Kevin, and I decided to head over to Randall’s to replenish our water supply. The lovely and kind Kevin offered to pay for the expenses, which meant we were now getting more than just water. We eventually left the place with two packs of water, Peanut M&M’s, Frosted Animal Crackers, and two bottles of soda. Thanks Red! By the time we head back and swiped a nice parking spot, it was just about time to get going to the Halloween Rave. We danced the dance of love and probably blew a couple of people’s mind. A few of the people on the stage decided to throw candy to us so we made our way to the front to swipe some snacks. Eventually they decided to start grabbing people and bringing them to dance one stage. I, fortunately or unfortunately, have a need to seek attention, so I bum rushed the stage and so did the masses. The DJ put a stop to our fun and sent us off, but I thoroughly enjoyed being on the stage. Some sort of thrill. A thrill of which I did not get my fill. I needed more. After two people attempted a somewhat sucky stage dive, I decided I could do better, and I did. I hopped on stage and before any one could kick me off I was in the air. Hands raised and praised and I floated all the way the back, nothing more thrilling than crowd surfing. I highly recommend it. Again, I still did not get enough. I wanted to be on the stage for some unknown reason. It was odd because if I did get pulled up there I would not even know what to do. Sure would I dance, but I wasn’t even sure if I was doing that right. The beat moves and quivers and your body goes with it. The flow wraps you and your arms are there and your face is here and your hips there and hands there. Your eyes close and it’s suddenly it. But who knows if you’re even doing it right? I mean who gives a shit really. After me the DJ called for no more stage dives. “This is a rave not a rock concert!” Like I give a fuck. Like Moses a short guy on stage decided to take it upon himself to part the crowd and create a circle in which show offs could show off in. Short man soon ended it and we were back to dancing, which was getting me hungry. I took it upon myself to order a pizza for all of us.
The man on the phone, some sort of middle eastern I could ascertain from his accent, was kind of a jackass. I was ordering the Pizza at twelve thirty and the place closed at one. This man decided to tell me to hurry because they were trying to close. So instead I took my time. By twelve fifty, we got our pizza and headed to the room. Being the paymaster I got two delicious slices, something my stomach yearned for. We decided that this late hour was optimum time to raise Apples to Apples hell. (りんごからりんごまで for you Japanese folks out there). I never realized just how educational the game could be. Through out the ordeal I learned that maybe The End of the World isn’t so hopeless. And that Custer’s Last Stand was definitely not desperate. I leaned the peacefulness of bathing in soy sauce while spitting and vomiting just as the CIA shoots out your brains can be very relaxing. I learned the difference between a glacier and an iceberg, and which sank the Titanic. You see, we aren’t always just about having fun. Education is very important to each and every one of us. We are highly esteemed individuals after all. Well thanks to Kevin I lost and so I don’t remember who won. Winning is an irrelevant factor to me when that position is not mine. Time fell back an hour and we didn’t sleep until sometime after three o’clock came around a second time.
November 1, 2009
The girls woke up at some ungodly hour and Kevin and I didn’t feel like moving. Ten ante meridian, “Are they even awake?” “Yes, you bitch,” I retorted. I hopped in the shower and by the time Kevin started his, everyone left with all their belongings. The only things left in the room were ours. I didn’t like this omen. I was not ready to leave. I forced some of the girls back up to help us bring our stuff to Kevin’s car. On our way, Lindsay stopped to check out and that was it for room 670. I loved you but I hope to never see you again. We decided to use what little time we had to go through the dealer’s room. I made my final purchases of two phone charms, a chibi Alphonse Elric and Banao (My new favorite character). Bianca and Angie pooled together what little money they had left and bought me Kamo (the platypus) stickers. Sankyuu. Kevin and I bought a set of two Boota pins, and Lindsay bought some [non-discounted] magazines, and we left the room for the final time to head to the artist alley. In the artist alley I had planned for my last purchase of our Oni-Con 2009 career to be a Scorpio Kinein Aqua pin, but alas, they were sold out and my poor weak heart was broken. Soon Angie, Bianca, and Chrissie left to meet the Cald’s mom for lunch and soon after Kaitlin, Lindsay, Kevin and I left and that was it. Oni-Con was over. Our wait for Anime Matsuri began.
But that was not the last of Angie, Bianca and Chrissie that Kevin and I saw. We were both hungry and had our stomachs set on Sushi Hana. As we parked Kevin pointed out a car that looked just like Bianca’s and as we walked closer to the entrance I pointed out a car that looked like Angie’s. Then as we walked in it hit us, I could smell her and that unmistakable smell. Bianca was there and she had her stanky legs wide open. Angie and Chrissie were there too and so were their parents and EJ. I decided to try something new and I got the delicious Unagi Don. Kevin went with the Katsu Don, but went with chicken instead of pork this time. The meal was delicious and we left.
November 2, 2009
Work.
November 3, 2009
School and a test I did not prepare for.
November 4, 2009
Work.
November 5, 2009
School and then work.
You see, a con is never just the con. It’s everything plus the con, all the surrounding events: the waiting, the preparing, the con, the aftermath. We all have real life and we all have our escape. This is ours. This is the freedom we have and the unadulterated joy we experience together. That is something that we dread leaving. Right now as you are reading this and as I’m typing this the life is getting sucked out of us. I feel it. PCS. Post Con Syndrome. Symptoms include fierce frustration, mild to temperate heart ache, depression, longing, lethargic feelings, memory loss and in some serious cases, death. Anime Matsuri can not come soon enough.
October 29, 2009
It rained. It rained with such furiousness. My Plymouth Neon and I trudged through at miles much to slow for these roads, but safety was number one; tomorrow was the day after all. Visibility was rare and all the lights were out. Winds tore at my car, attempting to throw me off. With luck I made it, but I still had to go to work. Ten o’clock post meridian rolls around and I’m out of there. Kevin meets me at my house and we rest. We need our rest.
October 30, 2009
Twelve hours later I showered, then he showered and we were off. Before we could head off we needed food; not just for us but for the room too. This year the fotz only need one room. Coed. Oo la la. Kevin and I took a detour at Which Wich and got the usual Grinders, a northern sandwich and oh so delicious. But twelve o’clock at a sandwich shop is a hoppin’ place, and time slipped away. Then we needed groceries, $31.14 worth to be exact. Water, Gatorade, Lunchables, Double shots; you know, the essentials. Next we needed cash. I went into the bank. I leave the bank. Already I’m a $150 in the hole (I only paid for $16 worth of the groceries). Finally we’re there. Finally. It was about three o’clock, that’s how finally it was. Lindsay had already been there for a few hours and was ready to meet us with our badges. Kaitlin met us minutes later. The side lobby we entered in through did not bode well for size or organization. Before we headed over to the dealer’s room we took a speedy detour around artist alley only to find a secret. The Secret. Or maybe “a” secret. Okay, more like a secret dealer’s room. No wait, a second dealer’s room; such an oddity that only occurred thanks to the not grandiose enough size of the hotel. Nevertheless this room was the epicenter of a long line of purchases to come. Though I only made a single purchase in this room on a later day, it was the site in which Kaitlin bought me my birthday present; a Revoltech Gurren Lagann figurine. Sparks imploded and I need more. With my excitement blossoming to find more, we headed to the main room. As the four of us arrived in to the main dealer’s room, it seemed it when on forever. Though it was indeed long, the space was unfortunately narrow and obvious not spacious enough to hold the amount of con-goers Oni-Con usually rounds up. My attack was swift and painless, three new Revoltech figurines within ten minutes of being in the room: Eva Unit 01, Eva Unit 02, and a Massed Produced Eva Unit. Oh how glorious, but we still needed our rooms to drop off my Godly loot.
At this point we found that Kevin made a grave mistake. With all seven of us sharing one room, which has two full beds, that would make four people sleeping on the beds which left a remainder of three. “One fotz, two fotz, three fotz on the floor,” as the count would say. These three needed sleeping equipment, this sleeping equipment was the responsibility of one Kevin Barber, this Kevin Barber was the man that left this sleeping equipment in the closet of his home. After finally arriving he had to head back, but this gave Kaitlin and Lindsay time to wait in the check in line, a lovely forty minute wait. Shortly upon our return, Angie, Bianca and Chrissie arrived about eighty-three hours late. We found ourselves hungry so we ventured to La Madeline where we dined, danced, and beat up old women. Only a percentage of that is true. After stalking over the bodies we destroyed, we headed back to the con and into room 670 of the Westchase Marriott and filled out our Great Pumpkin/Magic Pumpkin/Secret Pumpkin/Great Magic Secret Pumpkin from a distant future sent to blow our fucking minds away/Secret Santa 2.0 forms.
Then to the concert, which was shit to say the least. The first band that played was just some Japonphile loser who wished he was more famous then he was. Buranden (Romaji for Brandon) was a man, if you could call him that, of Anglo-Saxon blood who tried to sing in Japanese. His full name is Brandon McInnis for Christ’s sake, who is he trying to fool? At one point he boasted about touring in Japan, which impressed me about as much as Bangs did in his attempts. The band also attempted to do a change from “pop” to “rock” midway, but it still sounded like a bunch of the same bullshit to me. On “Buranden’s” website, which is (of course) just a myspace, the “about me” section claims that “Buranden” is “trained as a classical opera singer” and “perform[ed] such roles as Figaro in Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro.” The blood from my ears, however, begs to differ. The band left none too soon and then Satsuki emerged. This performance I didn’t like or dislike. I was completely apathetic towards it the whole time he was up there. He sang alone to pre-recorded music, played a few instrumental ballads and left. I took about as much time to notice him as I would a piece of trash on the carpet. Apathetic. The next band, however, was simply pathetic. Echostream was their name and boring me to tears was their game, apparently. The singer had a voice that would have went well with the right type of music, and the music would have went well with the right type of voice; however Echostream decided to mix fish with peanut butter and the result was vomitrocious to put it kindly. The set they played was about six thousands songs to long, and I couldn’t take it any longer. Question Oni-Con coordinators: Where, in all your holiness, did you find it a good idea to have four bands play one night? Kevin and I were in the same boat so we left before the Main Event.
In room 670 Kevin proceeded to draw and I just read the first volume of Monster, one of two volumes I bought in the dealer’s just before the concert. We could hear the music blasting from Born within the concert hall, but it was nothing I found exciting. Eventually the girls came back enthralled. I could feel the aura from their wet panties as the walked in. They got a little too excited. They moaned of Japanese men making out with each other, crowd surfing, and groping. Angie brought up possibly one of the greatest, most profound philosophical inquiries, “There is his crotch. Should I grab it?” Oh moral implications and the hearty debates such an inquiry could possibly cause. The old sophomore college students were tired, but the two freshmen were still young and excitable so they decided to run down to the dance that followed. As each girl showered one after the other unfortunately, I decided to have some fun. I put on Lambdse’s pink plaid winter vest with a hood trimmed with faux fur and paraded around the room with it. At one point I was sucked into the poltergeist inside the cabinet of the entertainment center and at another point Kevin was wearing my cardigan, quite the sophisticate. Then I tried on Chrissie’s teal neckerchief, and though originally I was against neckerchiefs, I found that I actually looked good in one. Shortly after Angho and Bistank twittered that they were now in the hentai room. God knows why. I will admit one thing and only once, though yoai is evil, at the least it generally has good art. Hentai is just disgusting smut. And there among the smut they found Trey. Of course. They came back and we slept. Two thirty ante meridian.
October 31, 2009
Halloween. We set the alarm for nine-ish but none of us got up until ten. Kevin showered first as punishment for making me sleep in the sub-arctic tundra. After taking a million hour shower, I showered then Angie showered and we were out of there… at around eleven-thirty. We all headed down to artist alley, but at some point we were torn asunder and I was with Kevin, Bianca and Angie were together, and Chrissie, Kaitlin and Lindsay were having a threesome off somewhere. I was Kevin’s gift giver so I had much difficulty in the dealer’s room scooping at the good gifts. “Should I get my secret pumpkin this naked Gackt poster?” I probably would have gotten punched but maybe it would have been worth it. When we went back to the room we met up with Chrissie and decided to join our threesome instead, we all know how she likes the boys. On the way down the elevator we meet Chrissie’s best friend advertising free hugs from her hotel window. What a whore. Elevator wait was about as fun as a punch to the testicles. The hotel, for reasons due to likely a lapse of mental retardation, had no conventional stairs that guest could access. All stairs were barred by alarm and lock, and designated for Emergency use only. Um, excuse me, I’m at a fucking convention and getting downstairs as fast as possible is a matter of emergency. The only port of transportation up and down these six floors was four elevators. There was a fifth elevator, but it may or may not been aborted by its whore of a mother since we never once saw it in use.
As Kevin, Chrissie, and I walked around artist alley I joked about getting my secret whatever-the-fuck a cake ring to which the main gauche replied, “Oh I know who you have, you have Kevin!” A reply which I took seriously, stupidly. “Shit how did you know?” “Um I was just kidding.” Then I kicked her straight in the cunt. Hyperbole. Well the cat was out of the bag, the skeleton came out of the closet and so I told Kevin to wait in the room while I got him something awesome. Chrissie and I went to go the dealer’s room where we found for the first time ever a line. Apparently the dealer’s room, to everyone’s surprise, was getting over crowded so they had to only let in a few people at a time. At one point an ambulance came and hauled some girl who had a seizure. Oh joy. In the room of dealers, I got Kevin a model, not a figurine but a model of Enki from Gurren Lagann, and Chrissie got Lindsay the Kingdom Hearts Riku charm she wanted. Back to room 670, we waited for Kevin to return with my room key and then we were off to the bank to receive more gil, or gold, or rupees, or dollies, or whatever. Upon return Kevin quickly bought Bianca the Atari hat she yearned for from the overflow dealer’s room and we headed back to 670 to prepare for free chipotle.
The challenge: Wrap yourself in foil for Halloween making you look normal in a convention, but like a freak at the Chipotle parking lot. The prize: Free Chipotle burrito. Angie in all her royalty dawned a crown of foil with a make shift tortilla toilet paper in the center. She used tape from a pad (yes that kind of pad) to stick to obtuse triangles just below her eyes. Bianca went with “jihad terrorist chic” sporting foil around her face and a head band only revealing her eyes. Chrissie took her direction into “neo-neko of piratedom” with a makeshift aluminum eye patch, gauntlet and eventual tail. Kaitlin used a simple head band. Kevin wore foil bangles as well as a finger or two wrapped in foil. Lindsay created a well designed mask using the plastic used to hold drinks together and foil. I, of course, in my entire splendor, went with ever fashionable foil fundoshi and armored arms. Chipotle always reaches its peak perfection when it is free, and all of our stomachs sang with joy. I was so happy I may have stomped on a puppy. But surely I did not. Maybe. At first the proprietors of pleasantness would not allow us joy, claiming the event was not till six; but Lindsay’s promising prowess perfectly placed us peacefully uh phed. Or fed.
With our stomachs full (all of us finished our burritos whole) we headed back to add to this euphoria to give and receive gifts. We decided to wrap our gifts in the remaining aluminum foil and write the names on top. The exchange went as follows: I got Kevin the Enki model and Capricorn pin from Kinein Aqua, Kevin got Bianca the Atari she wanted, Bianca got Chrissie a Gintama sin doujin, Chrissie got Lindsay the Riku charm, Lindsay got me Kiiroitori, a fotz Axel badge (both she also got for herself) and a free sampler of manga sutra, Kaitlin got Angie cute Super Mario 3 tote bag, and Angie got Kaitlin the wrong gift. Why? Because Angie is our lovable idiot. Aw. I’m only kidding of course. I think. Kaitlin explicitly stated in her form that she wanted a white monokurobu with a black polka dotted parasol to mach the black one she already has. As we should have already learned, Angie doesn’t know English. She even failed to write her name on her form. While the rest of us got ready to watch the cosplay contest later, Angie ran down to the dealer’s room, cut in line, and successfully traded in the wrong gift for the right one. The rest of headed down and waited in line like decent, honest human beings and walked around the dealer’s room for a while. Originally the room was to close at six, then they pushed it back to seven, then further back to eight. Such organization. We left the room a little before eight to wait in line for the cosplay contest, something we would regret as a massive waste of time.
We waited in the line, which snaked around a courtyard went out and stretched to beyond the front of the lobby main entrance. Waiting in line meant one thing and really just one thing only, pictochat. And what’s pictochat without penises, vaginas, and death? Nothing, I tell you, nothing! But thay ended and the pain began. As the line made its eventual forward movement into the concert hall, it became numbingly obvious we just simply wouldn’t fit. About twenty people before getting in, the all-knowers halted the line. There was no way we were not getting in. So basically we just took out those AK-47’s we hid in the Gloomy Bear pouches and shot the shit out of the people in front of us. Ten people ducked just in time, and we were out of ammo. We got a little over zealous. I pulled out the sword I had hidden in my pants and went to work on two individuals. I got the first one right in the face, but the second planted a kick right in my jaw. Lindsay jumped in and pulled a nice sweeping kick to the kid’s shins and his face hit the pavement with a crack. Everyone behind us jumped in the brawl. I had three kids on me in an instant; two kids dress as fatass L's and one Haruhi Suzumiya. I wielded my sword quickly and glanced at Angie and Bianca implementing double bicycle kicks to a couple of boys dressed as girls. I broke Haruhi’s nose with the hilt of my sword and ducked just in time for Kevin to throw his knife into the forehead of one of the L's. “Thanks, jackass” “Anytime.” Kaitlin had acquired two nunchucks from who the fuck knows where and was beating the shit out of the One Piece cast. Chrissie and I got swarmed by a bunch of fatties who didn’t know showers existed so we linked arms and the kick the shit of all of them. I felt a sharp pain in my back and turned to see… And none of that happened, because the real cosplay contest that happened was a little less than shit. None of the costumes really impressed me except the Princess Mononoke one. The skits made me come pretty close to slices my eyeballs. Apparently the announcer didn’t know how to read and kept stumbling on her words and blamed it on “technical malfunctions.” We could not leave soon enough.
Lindsay and Kaitlin decided to go to the Born autograph signing, so Angie, Chrissie, Bianca, Kevin, and I decided to head over to Randall’s to replenish our water supply. The lovely and kind Kevin offered to pay for the expenses, which meant we were now getting more than just water. We eventually left the place with two packs of water, Peanut M&M’s, Frosted Animal Crackers, and two bottles of soda. Thanks Red! By the time we head back and swiped a nice parking spot, it was just about time to get going to the Halloween Rave. We danced the dance of love and probably blew a couple of people’s mind. A few of the people on the stage decided to throw candy to us so we made our way to the front to swipe some snacks. Eventually they decided to start grabbing people and bringing them to dance one stage. I, fortunately or unfortunately, have a need to seek attention, so I bum rushed the stage and so did the masses. The DJ put a stop to our fun and sent us off, but I thoroughly enjoyed being on the stage. Some sort of thrill. A thrill of which I did not get my fill. I needed more. After two people attempted a somewhat sucky stage dive, I decided I could do better, and I did. I hopped on stage and before any one could kick me off I was in the air. Hands raised and praised and I floated all the way the back, nothing more thrilling than crowd surfing. I highly recommend it. Again, I still did not get enough. I wanted to be on the stage for some unknown reason. It was odd because if I did get pulled up there I would not even know what to do. Sure would I dance, but I wasn’t even sure if I was doing that right. The beat moves and quivers and your body goes with it. The flow wraps you and your arms are there and your face is here and your hips there and hands there. Your eyes close and it’s suddenly it. But who knows if you’re even doing it right? I mean who gives a shit really. After me the DJ called for no more stage dives. “This is a rave not a rock concert!” Like I give a fuck. Like Moses a short guy on stage decided to take it upon himself to part the crowd and create a circle in which show offs could show off in. Short man soon ended it and we were back to dancing, which was getting me hungry. I took it upon myself to order a pizza for all of us.
The man on the phone, some sort of middle eastern I could ascertain from his accent, was kind of a jackass. I was ordering the Pizza at twelve thirty and the place closed at one. This man decided to tell me to hurry because they were trying to close. So instead I took my time. By twelve fifty, we got our pizza and headed to the room. Being the paymaster I got two delicious slices, something my stomach yearned for. We decided that this late hour was optimum time to raise Apples to Apples hell. (りんごからりんごまで for you Japanese folks out there). I never realized just how educational the game could be. Through out the ordeal I learned that maybe The End of the World isn’t so hopeless. And that Custer’s Last Stand was definitely not desperate. I leaned the peacefulness of bathing in soy sauce while spitting and vomiting just as the CIA shoots out your brains can be very relaxing. I learned the difference between a glacier and an iceberg, and which sank the Titanic. You see, we aren’t always just about having fun. Education is very important to each and every one of us. We are highly esteemed individuals after all. Well thanks to Kevin I lost and so I don’t remember who won. Winning is an irrelevant factor to me when that position is not mine. Time fell back an hour and we didn’t sleep until sometime after three o’clock came around a second time.
November 1, 2009
The girls woke up at some ungodly hour and Kevin and I didn’t feel like moving. Ten ante meridian, “Are they even awake?” “Yes, you bitch,” I retorted. I hopped in the shower and by the time Kevin started his, everyone left with all their belongings. The only things left in the room were ours. I didn’t like this omen. I was not ready to leave. I forced some of the girls back up to help us bring our stuff to Kevin’s car. On our way, Lindsay stopped to check out and that was it for room 670. I loved you but I hope to never see you again. We decided to use what little time we had to go through the dealer’s room. I made my final purchases of two phone charms, a chibi Alphonse Elric and Banao (My new favorite character). Bianca and Angie pooled together what little money they had left and bought me Kamo (the platypus) stickers. Sankyuu. Kevin and I bought a set of two Boota pins, and Lindsay bought some [non-discounted] magazines, and we left the room for the final time to head to the artist alley. In the artist alley I had planned for my last purchase of our Oni-Con 2009 career to be a Scorpio Kinein Aqua pin, but alas, they were sold out and my poor weak heart was broken. Soon Angie, Bianca, and Chrissie left to meet the Cald’s mom for lunch and soon after Kaitlin, Lindsay, Kevin and I left and that was it. Oni-Con was over. Our wait for Anime Matsuri began.
But that was not the last of Angie, Bianca and Chrissie that Kevin and I saw. We were both hungry and had our stomachs set on Sushi Hana. As we parked Kevin pointed out a car that looked just like Bianca’s and as we walked closer to the entrance I pointed out a car that looked like Angie’s. Then as we walked in it hit us, I could smell her and that unmistakable smell. Bianca was there and she had her stanky legs wide open. Angie and Chrissie were there too and so were their parents and EJ. I decided to try something new and I got the delicious Unagi Don. Kevin went with the Katsu Don, but went with chicken instead of pork this time. The meal was delicious and we left.
November 2, 2009
Work.
November 3, 2009
School and a test I did not prepare for.
November 4, 2009
Work.
November 5, 2009
School and then work.
You see, a con is never just the con. It’s everything plus the con, all the surrounding events: the waiting, the preparing, the con, the aftermath. We all have real life and we all have our escape. This is ours. This is the freedom we have and the unadulterated joy we experience together. That is something that we dread leaving. Right now as you are reading this and as I’m typing this the life is getting sucked out of us. I feel it. PCS. Post Con Syndrome. Symptoms include fierce frustration, mild to temperate heart ache, depression, longing, lethargic feelings, memory loss and in some serious cases, death. Anime Matsuri can not come soon enough.