In which I explain those angle spooge rumors that have been floating around
So. Hi. I had the pleasure of having my Fangirl Central girls in town this weekend for our third trip to Chicago Con. It was very fun. It was also my first time with a gold pass, which, lemme tell you: awesome.
I won't do a whole recap because there are a gazillion up on Super Wiki. But I will explain the nasty stories liptonrm and baylorsr have been hinting at.
Right. So after a long and amusing Saturday, baylorsr attended the dessert party, which is visited by as many of the Friday and Saturday guests who are still around/still standing.
We lucked into a table of incredibly fun-loving folk, including a three-person squad representing Australia and New Zealand, Wendy, Sam and *cough ETA cough* Emma ... oh, fuck me, how can I not remember her name? I suck. Also, the lovely charming Ann and Sandy, and Manuel. So we're eating, talking, having a good time, and because the autograph lines are SO long and slow, it's after midnight before the actors started filtering in.
Misha hit our within about twenty minutes, re-apologized to the Australians for maligning their country and people, and then noticed my hat, which we had slapped down as an impromptu centerpiece.
Sidebar: liptonrm who is made of concentrated awesome, gave me a Cafe-Press made trucker hat that has the logo for the Bobby Singer School of Library Science (which she refined from an idea that came out a discussion of my wanting to put my graduate degree to good use in Supernatural-land; I can't remember exactly how it progressed, other than my jumping Sam in the stacks, but at some point, I/we decided that Bobby obviously needed my services, and then I think that's when liptonrm suggested that Bobby probably has his own program.) So anyway. Trucker hat: library dork + SPN fan + general geekitude = FUCKING AWESOME. (oh! The BSSoLS's motto, in Latin, of course, translates to: Before us, a cliff; behind us, wolves. LOVE)
Ahem. Anyway, Misha noticed the hat, asked if I hadn't been wearing it earlier in the autograph line, and then asked what it meant. I told him a short version of the story, he was charming and funny and hot and all that, and then he moved on, leaving his (nearly empty) paper tea cup behind.
We made jokes about how we should sell it on eBay, how it could bring luck or powers or something. There was some inappropriate stroking of the cup. You know. The usual dirty fangirl stuff (and fanboy--Sam was totally a ringleader).
So then it was HOURS until Richard came by. He, too, was ridiculously charming and funny and hot.
He, too, noticed and asked about the hat, and got told the story. I think it was he who suggested getting a picture of Jim Beaver in the hat. Someone pointed out Misha's cup and said that he should add Gabriel's power to it. So heh played along and poked the cup but then said something along the lines of "Forget that! I'll add ARCHANGEL power to Castiel's wimpy paper cup!" and made zapping motions at the cup, and then his time was up and he moved on, leaving his (nearly empty) beer bottle behind.
We made a big fuss about how our table was now officially the angelic host table, and someone--I think it was Ann, decided that the thing to do would be to consolidate things. So she dumped the remaining half inch of Richard's beer into Misha's cup. More dirty comments were made, and it was at this point that someone declared that the angels' fluids had now officially mixed. It went downhill from there. Sam mimicked drinking it, which put the idea in various heads. baylorsr suggested daring Jim Beaver (who had not yet arrived) to drink it. This idea was immediately dismissed as being a) gross and b) totally out of line. (For the record, I don't think baylorsr's suggestion was a sincere one.)
Anyway, it's getting later and later, and we're getting punchier and punchier, and despite our noise levels and hilarity, I think a total of maybe four drinks had been consumed among the eight of us. (I personally hadn't had any, as I have to wait another ten days to see whether Jim-Jim the Dogfaced Boy will make an appearance.)
Finally, at around 1-ish baylorsr and I decided that Jim wasn't coming, we were tired, and we were bailing. Just as we left, Jim came in! We ran back and made more noise. And then we WAITED. FOR EVER. (Actually, not, it just felt that way.) For him to come to our table. And while we waited, we got punchier. Sandy danced her butt off, we pounded the table and clapped along, looking drunker every moment. But the talk kept coming back to that damn cup of angel fluids. And we knew that someone was going to have to drink it. So I gathered my courage and said that if they helped convince Jim to try my hat and have his picture taken with it (and me), I would DRINK THE ANGEL SPOOGE. Condition: The deal was not to be discussed in Jim's presence, and he would not be at the table when I paid up.
So we rearranged seating so that the empty chair was next to me, placed the hat carefully, and waited. Finally, Jim sat down and was charming and funny and hot and SO SO SO NICE. I showed him the hat, explained things (he didn't seem to follow as much as the others, but it was really, really late and he hadn't been feeling well, and had just spent about six hours signing autographs, so I cut him slack), and asked if he'd wear it for a picture with me. Which thing that darling man did. Sorry for the crap pictures.
And then the conversation moved along, and he was charming and wonderful, and then his time with us was up, and he moved on. Leaving the scraps of the label of his Dr. Pepper on our table with the rest of the stars' garbage. WE LOST IT. Loudly. He turned around to see what we were laughing at, and we explained, badly, that Misha and Richard had started the garbage-table trend, and it was now complete. He smiled and backed away.
And then we all sat there, grinning at each other, and someone (I suspect an Aussie) started chanting "Drink! Drink! Drink!" and there was table pounding, and I put my hat back on, took a deep breath, and threw back the Angelic Dregs.
Yeah. It was pretty gross, but not as bad as it could have been, once you get past the germ factor. Richard's beer had been a Heineken, and the Fluids had a more lemony taste than I'd expect from it, so I think Misha had actually just been drinking water with lemon in it (and, really, there was nearly nothing left in that cup when he left it). So basically it was the bottom half inch of a beer, an hour warm. Not great, but not bad.
But man, did I earn the respect of that table of fangirls and boys. (Or, alternatively: man, did that table of fangirls and boys put on a show to make me feel respected when actually they all were making secret hand signals about how easy it is to make me drink famous backwash.)
Ahem. Yeah. That's the story.
Ann, Sandy, Wendy, Sam, Emma (with your lovely black dress!) (CRAP, what's her name??? In the lovely black dress? I KNOW THIS!) If you have pics, please add them here! Or email me at hiyacynth@hotmail.com. And THANK YOU for being the funnest table. I fully expect my angelic powers to spring into action any moment. When they do, I'll totally put my teleportation skills to good use, I promise.
I have another post to make, because baylorsr and liptonrm spoiled me rotten and made some RIDICULOUSLY AWESOME gifts for me, which are the best kind because they can be shared! If I don't manage it today, they'll be up tomorrow.
*shiny happy glowy feelings about friends and fangirls and boys*
I won't do a whole recap because there are a gazillion up on Super Wiki. But I will explain the nasty stories liptonrm and baylorsr have been hinting at.
Right. So after a long and amusing Saturday, baylorsr attended the dessert party, which is visited by as many of the Friday and Saturday guests who are still around/still standing.
We lucked into a table of incredibly fun-loving folk, including a three-person squad representing Australia and New Zealand, Wendy, Sam and *cough ETA cough* Emma ... oh, fuck me, how can I not remember her name? I suck. Also, the lovely charming Ann and Sandy, and Manuel. So we're eating, talking, having a good time, and because the autograph lines are SO long and slow, it's after midnight before the actors started filtering in.
Misha hit our within about twenty minutes, re-apologized to the Australians for maligning their country and people, and then noticed my hat, which we had slapped down as an impromptu centerpiece.
Sidebar: liptonrm who is made of concentrated awesome, gave me a Cafe-Press made trucker hat that has the logo for the Bobby Singer School of Library Science (which she refined from an idea that came out a discussion of my wanting to put my graduate degree to good use in Supernatural-land; I can't remember exactly how it progressed, other than my jumping Sam in the stacks, but at some point, I/we decided that Bobby obviously needed my services, and then I think that's when liptonrm suggested that Bobby probably has his own program.) So anyway. Trucker hat: library dork + SPN fan + general geekitude = FUCKING AWESOME. (oh! The BSSoLS's motto, in Latin, of course, translates to: Before us, a cliff; behind us, wolves. LOVE)
Ahem. Anyway, Misha noticed the hat, asked if I hadn't been wearing it earlier in the autograph line, and then asked what it meant. I told him a short version of the story, he was charming and funny and hot and all that, and then he moved on, leaving his (nearly empty) paper tea cup behind.
We made jokes about how we should sell it on eBay, how it could bring luck or powers or something. There was some inappropriate stroking of the cup. You know. The usual dirty fangirl stuff (and fanboy--Sam was totally a ringleader).
So then it was HOURS until Richard came by. He, too, was ridiculously charming and funny and hot.
He, too, noticed and asked about the hat, and got told the story. I think it was he who suggested getting a picture of Jim Beaver in the hat. Someone pointed out Misha's cup and said that he should add Gabriel's power to it. So heh played along and poked the cup but then said something along the lines of "Forget that! I'll add ARCHANGEL power to Castiel's wimpy paper cup!" and made zapping motions at the cup, and then his time was up and he moved on, leaving his (nearly empty) beer bottle behind.
We made a big fuss about how our table was now officially the angelic host table, and someone--I think it was Ann, decided that the thing to do would be to consolidate things. So she dumped the remaining half inch of Richard's beer into Misha's cup. More dirty comments were made, and it was at this point that someone declared that the angels' fluids had now officially mixed. It went downhill from there. Sam mimicked drinking it, which put the idea in various heads. baylorsr suggested daring Jim Beaver (who had not yet arrived) to drink it. This idea was immediately dismissed as being a) gross and b) totally out of line. (For the record, I don't think baylorsr's suggestion was a sincere one.)
Anyway, it's getting later and later, and we're getting punchier and punchier, and despite our noise levels and hilarity, I think a total of maybe four drinks had been consumed among the eight of us. (I personally hadn't had any, as I have to wait another ten days to see whether Jim-Jim the Dogfaced Boy will make an appearance.)
Finally, at around 1-ish baylorsr and I decided that Jim wasn't coming, we were tired, and we were bailing. Just as we left, Jim came in! We ran back and made more noise. And then we WAITED. FOR EVER. (Actually, not, it just felt that way.) For him to come to our table. And while we waited, we got punchier. Sandy danced her butt off, we pounded the table and clapped along, looking drunker every moment. But the talk kept coming back to that damn cup of angel fluids. And we knew that someone was going to have to drink it. So I gathered my courage and said that if they helped convince Jim to try my hat and have his picture taken with it (and me), I would DRINK THE ANGEL SPOOGE. Condition: The deal was not to be discussed in Jim's presence, and he would not be at the table when I paid up.
So we rearranged seating so that the empty chair was next to me, placed the hat carefully, and waited. Finally, Jim sat down and was charming and funny and hot and SO SO SO NICE. I showed him the hat, explained things (he didn't seem to follow as much as the others, but it was really, really late and he hadn't been feeling well, and had just spent about six hours signing autographs, so I cut him slack), and asked if he'd wear it for a picture with me. Which thing that darling man did. Sorry for the crap pictures.
And then the conversation moved along, and he was charming and wonderful, and then his time with us was up, and he moved on. Leaving the scraps of the label of his Dr. Pepper on our table with the rest of the stars' garbage. WE LOST IT. Loudly. He turned around to see what we were laughing at, and we explained, badly, that Misha and Richard had started the garbage-table trend, and it was now complete. He smiled and backed away.
And then we all sat there, grinning at each other, and someone (I suspect an Aussie) started chanting "Drink! Drink! Drink!" and there was table pounding, and I put my hat back on, took a deep breath, and threw back the Angelic Dregs.
Yeah. It was pretty gross, but not as bad as it could have been, once you get past the germ factor. Richard's beer had been a Heineken, and the Fluids had a more lemony taste than I'd expect from it, so I think Misha had actually just been drinking water with lemon in it (and, really, there was nearly nothing left in that cup when he left it). So basically it was the bottom half inch of a beer, an hour warm. Not great, but not bad.
But man, did I earn the respect of that table of fangirls and boys. (Or, alternatively: man, did that table of fangirls and boys put on a show to make me feel respected when actually they all were making secret hand signals about how easy it is to make me drink famous backwash.)
Ahem. Yeah. That's the story.
Ann, Sandy, Wendy, Sam, Emma (with your lovely black dress!) (CRAP, what's her name??? In the lovely black dress? I KNOW THIS!) If you have pics, please add them here! Or email me at hiyacynth@hotmail.com. And THANK YOU for being the funnest table. I fully expect my angelic powers to spring into action any moment. When they do, I'll totally put my teleportation skills to good use, I promise.
I have another post to make, because baylorsr and liptonrm spoiled me rotten and made some RIDICULOUSLY AWESOME gifts for me, which are the best kind because they can be shared! If I don't manage it today, they'll be up tomorrow.
*shiny happy glowy feelings about friends and fangirls and boys*