aftercon
I'm in an odd mood at the moment, sparked by getting over an exhausting con (oh Norwescon, you are not my cup of tea), and the relatively warm spring day (and night) we had today in Portland.
The weather reminded me of summer nights in Palo Alto. They're not the perfect black silk nights of my childhood in the Central Valley, but they have magic in them nonetheless. Is part of growing older that everything reminds you of something else? I think it must be.
I'm also feeling a certain inchoate yearning that accompanies a minor crush. Yes, well. That'll fade in a day or two.
(If honest loves, and could-be loves, and wanting loves can all fade in time, to what permanence can a transitory limerence aspire?)
(And that's as it should be.)
There's learning in it, though. This past weekend has been educational: I now have a better sense of the work that goes into attending a convention when you've got your professional hat on. WisCon was my first convention, which spoiled me. It feels like my home convention. World Fantasy is large on business, and any costumes are because it's Halloween. Norwescon, though--that's fannish, which is cool in its own right, but not what I was expecting. Which is my own fault, as I did not prepare myself for it: I didn't look things up ahead of time, I didn't preregister or sign up for panels or readings, and I didn't ask friends for their impressions on it. I can blame that on distraction from the move and settling-in process, but frankly, I'll just leave it as experience gained and make note of it for future reference.
It was fantastic to see friends, though. Intimidating as they all can be, it's still wonderful to hang out and talk with people who all know what it's like, and who have the same (or enough of the same) reference points as you do, so that you don't need to explain it all.
I laughed a lot. There's a delight in that.
The weather reminded me of summer nights in Palo Alto. They're not the perfect black silk nights of my childhood in the Central Valley, but they have magic in them nonetheless. Is part of growing older that everything reminds you of something else? I think it must be.
I'm also feeling a certain inchoate yearning that accompanies a minor crush. Yes, well. That'll fade in a day or two.
(If honest loves, and could-be loves, and wanting loves can all fade in time, to what permanence can a transitory limerence aspire?)
(And that's as it should be.)
There's learning in it, though. This past weekend has been educational: I now have a better sense of the work that goes into attending a convention when you've got your professional hat on. WisCon was my first convention, which spoiled me. It feels like my home convention. World Fantasy is large on business, and any costumes are because it's Halloween. Norwescon, though--that's fannish, which is cool in its own right, but not what I was expecting. Which is my own fault, as I did not prepare myself for it: I didn't look things up ahead of time, I didn't preregister or sign up for panels or readings, and I didn't ask friends for their impressions on it. I can blame that on distraction from the move and settling-in process, but frankly, I'll just leave it as experience gained and make note of it for future reference.
It was fantastic to see friends, though. Intimidating as they all can be, it's still wonderful to hang out and talk with people who all know what it's like, and who have the same (or enough of the same) reference points as you do, so that you don't need to explain it all.
I laughed a lot. There's a delight in that.