elderwitty (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
elderwitty) wrote2010-08-31 04:26 am
elderwitty) wrote2010-08-31 04:26 am
Entry tags:
Con Report: Day 1, in which I am the Universe's bitch
This will seem like a rant and a rambling one at that. The day got to the point where it was almost humorous, so take it in that spirit. It was irksome at the time, but now I can see the funny in it.
Three hours of sleep. Partly my fault, partly I couldn't sleep. While I was trying, I had a cool idea - instead of buying headshots of the actors for them to sign, I'd have some of my photos sent to the nearest Walgreens. A change of pace for the boys, a chance to see my photos not onscreen for me. Easy-peasy, right? Wrong, for Lo, today I am the Universe's bitch. System didn't recognize my password - okay, I might not remember it right. They sent me a new one...then didn't recognize the login name - the one they sent me. Whatever, it worked on the second try. Had gotten the photos in a temp folder while awaiting the password email, for easy uploading. Yea! Decided to switch two out - no big. Got through the whole process, picked the nearest store, chose to pay at pickup (as credit card was far away in the kitchen), and hit go. Wandered off to continue packing. Came back to check - We need your updated cc info. WTF?! I'm paying in the store! Nothing on the page works, so I hit the cancel arrow. On every other page this goes back one page. On this page it cancels the whole shebang. Shrieking ensues. I do it all again (except the upload) and pay by cc this time. lovely - now I can leave.
At 1:30pm. Three hours behind schedule. It wasn't all due to photo play, but a lot of it was. I was aiming to get to Chicago early enough to see the Institute of Art, which is free after 5p on Thursdays. Luckily, checking the website one last time shows that they're open 'til 9pm Thursday between Memorial and Labor Days. Yea, something's gone right!
Eight separate sets of roadworks. The last one was 12-15 miles of grooved pavement.
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm (A bridge. Ahh.)
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! Erk!
80mph otherwise.
Toll road doesn't warn you that it's coins only (and no attendant) until you're fully committed. Luckily, I had it. Next one had a booth, so I asked the guy to make all the change I'd need 'til my exit. Nice guy. Get there, it's eighty cents. I toss it in the basket, but since I've been clutching it, a quarter sticks and misses. I throw another. Another. Another. I threw the entire rest of my handful and sped off. (Or, the version with sound: Toss. "Damn." Toss. "Fuck." Throw. "Fuck!" THROW. "FUCK!" clangclatterjinglecrash tire squeal "AAGGHHH!!") JESUSEVERLOVINGMOTHERFUCKINGCHRIST!
Google directions missed the driveway. No big, went down, left, around, back right.
Proposed time of arrival - 3pm. Actual time of arrival - 6:30pm.
All fire lane parking in front, so I went to the other side of the grassy knoll. Doorman informed me that's valet, and he needs my keys. I asked where to park to register, and he indicates the gated lot. Okay. Do I have to come back to this door to go check in? Yes, I do. Okay. Park, walk back, go in and up to Registration. Clerk is very nice, and asks how I am. I state (humorously) that I refuse to answer and suggest we skip ahead, so he starts the process, and gives me a message from Kath. Cool. He tries to tell me it's $15 a night to park. I protest that I was told $9/day. He says, 'Yes. $9/day, $15/overnight.' I propose that the day runs the same in the lot as it does in my room, and he (possibly unwilling to watch my brain exploding all over his lovely lobby) promises that he'll take care of it. (He did, btw.) Room cards doled out, and I'm off. Drop my purse and cds in the room, and go to get the rest. No luggage carts in sight - whatever. Lug my stuff in from the car - through the unlocked door nearest the lot...I could have been in a/c half a block sooner, despite the dozy parker.
Back downstairs, to get directions to the train to race to the Institute, because an hour at a world-renowned museum is better than nothing (train takes 50 mins). Concierge, who strongly reminds me of Luke's flaky sister on Gilmore Girls (appearance only - she was very competent), whips out a guide book, marks the path, makes the change I need for the train, tells me about a light/music show at a fountain 4 blocks from the museum, and holds the shuttle so I can be dropped off at the station quicker. Out to the shuttle - damn, left my fan at the desk. No big, asked valet to have them hold it - and we're (really) off. Caught the red light, which made me miss a train. Another in 12 minutes. Cool.
50 mins on train with no reading matter. See, museums don't like bags, and I don't blame them. The plan: purse and sister's $500 camera in the shopping bag, for stealth. Soda can for drinking and eventual recycling. Shopping bag will go in camera bag, which is slung for fun art times. Logic is my friend, but a magazine was not in the cards. 'S Okay. Off the train, down a block and three over. Lions, a crowd on the steps, a saxophonist, and more people than I've ever seen walking around a downtown outside of RibFest. What celebration? Thursday. :D
In I go into the airlock. 8:00. The guard says, "I'm sorry. We're closed." (You called that one, didn't you?) "I thought you were open 'til 9 'til Labor Day?" "That was last year." I very calmly refrained from pulling the building down around us, and said, "You might want to update the info on your website, because as of six hours ago, it said that you were open 'til 9." Out again, artless. Walking down the street muttering like a nutter. On to the fountain. It was lovely. It wasn't 2 hours on the train, rushing, racing, sweating, not-reading worth it - but it was okay.
Back towards the station, but hungrily. Surely I can find fare from here to there? Ooh, a non-chain Mexican place - closed. Ditto Chinese and hotdogs. Only bars and Baskin-Robbins/Dunkin Donuts, and I'm not in the mood. Back to the sax, the lions, the steps. Back to the train, the boredom of booklessness. Back to the hotel, in the now dark. It's only a couple of blocks, so I hoof it. Back to the room, where I grab a quick shower. Now on to Walgreens and some sort of food.
Desk clerk #2 gives me directions to #2 Devon, utilizing some sort of bumblebee logic, I believe. Left out of the lot (onto River Des Plains), left at the light (Higgins), when I see the sign for I90, turn right onto the street at the odd angle (Devon). Go 'til Walgreens.
Odd angle is right. Or not right, as in 90 - it's much closer to 35. I'm on the hand pointing to six, and I'm to turn onto the hand pointing at four. Or not - as the sign prohibits. I started laughing, because what else could I do? Again with the go past, turn left into a lot and u-turn, then right turn, then come back. Except the lot has a guardshack. And a guard who is determined that I should know the name of the city that the Walgreens is in. I agree that his guess is correct, and back around I go. Onto Higgins, left on Devon, onto the Walgreens. Wait, did I just cross over River Des Plains? Why, yes. Yes I did. I'm sure you see what that means. Sigh.
Walgreens achieved, I start my shopping. Ivory soap, as faux-spa soap is reeky (and, by that, I mean mildly scented); cough drops, since I left mine at home; and pens for the signing of photos. Soap in hand I wander toward Photo, wondering if Sharpies will smear. I pass them and apply to the clerk. He says they should be fine, and did I order two sets of prints? Um, no. (I guess that first one went through after all and all the shouting was unnecessary. Grr.) I ask to inspect, what with the day I'm having. He inquires and I reply, pitching toward the funny side. Skaterboi also waiting for pix praises my water lilies. A highlight of the day thus far. :) We all tell tales of days that fail. As the receipt passes from his hand to mine, "Shee-it!" "What?" "Forgot to buy the pens, der!" All belongings abandoned on the counter and I'm off to pens (10' away). Pick my pack, pay the man, receive receipt. "Shit!" "What now?" "I forgot the cough drops, but I'm not checking out again! I'd rather rasp!" All chuckle. Clerk offers the other set of prints gratis, and a new daily highlight is achieved. :grin:
Directions to fast food are sought, with the resulting info that there's only a McDonald's for miles around (11pm, remember?). Sigh, fine. I forgot that they're more than just oversauced burgers now. The salad was fine. The fries were better, but when are they not? Ate in Kath and Sue's room, while they regaled me with stories of cons and SGA auctions. Sue let me touch John's Season One uniform shirt.
Off to bed and better days tomorrow.
Three hours of sleep. Partly my fault, partly I couldn't sleep. While I was trying, I had a cool idea - instead of buying headshots of the actors for them to sign, I'd have some of my photos sent to the nearest Walgreens. A change of pace for the boys, a chance to see my photos not onscreen for me. Easy-peasy, right? Wrong, for Lo, today I am the Universe's bitch. System didn't recognize my password - okay, I might not remember it right. They sent me a new one...then didn't recognize the login name - the one they sent me. Whatever, it worked on the second try. Had gotten the photos in a temp folder while awaiting the password email, for easy uploading. Yea! Decided to switch two out - no big. Got through the whole process, picked the nearest store, chose to pay at pickup (as credit card was far away in the kitchen), and hit go. Wandered off to continue packing. Came back to check - We need your updated cc info. WTF?! I'm paying in the store! Nothing on the page works, so I hit the cancel arrow. On every other page this goes back one page. On this page it cancels the whole shebang. Shrieking ensues. I do it all again (except the upload) and pay by cc this time. lovely - now I can leave.
At 1:30pm. Three hours behind schedule. It wasn't all due to photo play, but a lot of it was. I was aiming to get to Chicago early enough to see the Institute of Art, which is free after 5p on Thursdays. Luckily, checking the website one last time shows that they're open 'til 9pm Thursday between Memorial and Labor Days. Yea, something's gone right!
Eight separate sets of roadworks. The last one was 12-15 miles of grooved pavement.
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm (A bridge. Ahh.)
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! Erk!
80mph otherwise.
Toll road doesn't warn you that it's coins only (and no attendant) until you're fully committed. Luckily, I had it. Next one had a booth, so I asked the guy to make all the change I'd need 'til my exit. Nice guy. Get there, it's eighty cents. I toss it in the basket, but since I've been clutching it, a quarter sticks and misses. I throw another. Another. Another. I threw the entire rest of my handful and sped off. (Or, the version with sound: Toss. "Damn." Toss. "Fuck." Throw. "Fuck!" THROW. "FUCK!" clangclatterjinglecrash tire squeal "AAGGHHH!!") JESUSEVERLOVINGMOTHERFUCKINGCHRIST!
Google directions missed the driveway. No big, went down, left, around, back right.
Proposed time of arrival - 3pm. Actual time of arrival - 6:30pm.
All fire lane parking in front, so I went to the other side of the grassy knoll. Doorman informed me that's valet, and he needs my keys. I asked where to park to register, and he indicates the gated lot. Okay. Do I have to come back to this door to go check in? Yes, I do. Okay. Park, walk back, go in and up to Registration. Clerk is very nice, and asks how I am. I state (humorously) that I refuse to answer and suggest we skip ahead, so he starts the process, and gives me a message from Kath. Cool. He tries to tell me it's $15 a night to park. I protest that I was told $9/day. He says, 'Yes. $9/day, $15/overnight.' I propose that the day runs the same in the lot as it does in my room, and he (possibly unwilling to watch my brain exploding all over his lovely lobby) promises that he'll take care of it. (He did, btw.) Room cards doled out, and I'm off. Drop my purse and cds in the room, and go to get the rest. No luggage carts in sight - whatever. Lug my stuff in from the car - through the unlocked door nearest the lot...I could have been in a/c half a block sooner, despite the dozy parker.
Back downstairs, to get directions to the train to race to the Institute, because an hour at a world-renowned museum is better than nothing (train takes 50 mins). Concierge, who strongly reminds me of Luke's flaky sister on Gilmore Girls (appearance only - she was very competent), whips out a guide book, marks the path, makes the change I need for the train, tells me about a light/music show at a fountain 4 blocks from the museum, and holds the shuttle so I can be dropped off at the station quicker. Out to the shuttle - damn, left my fan at the desk. No big, asked valet to have them hold it - and we're (really) off. Caught the red light, which made me miss a train. Another in 12 minutes. Cool.
50 mins on train with no reading matter. See, museums don't like bags, and I don't blame them. The plan: purse and sister's $500 camera in the shopping bag, for stealth. Soda can for drinking and eventual recycling. Shopping bag will go in camera bag, which is slung for fun art times. Logic is my friend, but a magazine was not in the cards. 'S Okay. Off the train, down a block and three over. Lions, a crowd on the steps, a saxophonist, and more people than I've ever seen walking around a downtown outside of RibFest. What celebration? Thursday. :D
In I go into the airlock. 8:00. The guard says, "I'm sorry. We're closed." (You called that one, didn't you?) "I thought you were open 'til 9 'til Labor Day?" "That was last year." I very calmly refrained from pulling the building down around us, and said, "You might want to update the info on your website, because as of six hours ago, it said that you were open 'til 9." Out again, artless. Walking down the street muttering like a nutter. On to the fountain. It was lovely. It wasn't 2 hours on the train, rushing, racing, sweating, not-reading worth it - but it was okay.
Back towards the station, but hungrily. Surely I can find fare from here to there? Ooh, a non-chain Mexican place - closed. Ditto Chinese and hotdogs. Only bars and Baskin-Robbins/Dunkin Donuts, and I'm not in the mood. Back to the sax, the lions, the steps. Back to the train, the boredom of booklessness. Back to the hotel, in the now dark. It's only a couple of blocks, so I hoof it. Back to the room, where I grab a quick shower. Now on to Walgreens and some sort of food.
Desk clerk #2 gives me directions to #2 Devon, utilizing some sort of bumblebee logic, I believe. Left out of the lot (onto River Des Plains), left at the light (Higgins), when I see the sign for I90, turn right onto the street at the odd angle (Devon). Go 'til Walgreens.
Odd angle is right. Or not right, as in 90 - it's much closer to 35. I'm on the hand pointing to six, and I'm to turn onto the hand pointing at four. Or not - as the sign prohibits. I started laughing, because what else could I do? Again with the go past, turn left into a lot and u-turn, then right turn, then come back. Except the lot has a guardshack. And a guard who is determined that I should know the name of the city that the Walgreens is in. I agree that his guess is correct, and back around I go. Onto Higgins, left on Devon, onto the Walgreens. Wait, did I just cross over River Des Plains? Why, yes. Yes I did. I'm sure you see what that means. Sigh.
Walgreens achieved, I start my shopping. Ivory soap, as faux-spa soap is reeky (and, by that, I mean mildly scented); cough drops, since I left mine at home; and pens for the signing of photos. Soap in hand I wander toward Photo, wondering if Sharpies will smear. I pass them and apply to the clerk. He says they should be fine, and did I order two sets of prints? Um, no. (I guess that first one went through after all and all the shouting was unnecessary. Grr.) I ask to inspect, what with the day I'm having. He inquires and I reply, pitching toward the funny side. Skaterboi also waiting for pix praises my water lilies. A highlight of the day thus far. :) We all tell tales of days that fail. As the receipt passes from his hand to mine, "Shee-it!" "What?" "Forgot to buy the pens, der!" All belongings abandoned on the counter and I'm off to pens (10' away). Pick my pack, pay the man, receive receipt. "Shit!" "What now?" "I forgot the cough drops, but I'm not checking out again! I'd rather rasp!" All chuckle. Clerk offers the other set of prints gratis, and a new daily highlight is achieved. :grin:
Directions to fast food are sought, with the resulting info that there's only a McDonald's for miles around (11pm, remember?). Sigh, fine. I forgot that they're more than just oversauced burgers now. The salad was fine. The fries were better, but when are they not? Ate in Kath and Sue's room, while they regaled me with stories of cons and SGA auctions. Sue let me touch John's Season One uniform shirt.
Off to bed and better days tomorrow.
no subject
no subject
I may go back and add the bits that I left out. Toss. "Fuck." Throw. "Fuck!" THROW. "FUCK!" clangclatterjinglecrash tire squeal "AAGGHHH!!"
:D
I'm doing Friday Con Report in the other window.
no subject
And completely unrelated - I'm watching A Dog's Breakfast. OMG, Hewlett is a MESS in this movie. SO VERY, VERY ADORABLE!!!!
no subject
I plan to watch that this weekend. Sometime between the Museum Friday, and the Japanese Festival at the Garden Saturday, and the finishing up of the con reports, including posting pix of the autographed pix.
Oh, yeah, and buying an external hard drive so my Properties bar isn't shouting RED at me now more! (I should also watch the Joe/David vids before I post, to refresh my memories.)
(The icon is Joe's great-great-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-grandcreature.)
no subject
OMG OMG OMG! Another tangent. You know the first John/Rodney AU you ever sent me? "Mail Myself To You"? I just realized it's by Cate! Man, you really pulled out the big guns to drag me into this fandom, eh? :)
no subject
Consider this a request for the fruit basket poem! *grin*
no subject
I also realized that the poem won't really make sense without the backstory. So I'm posting Friday's con report right now, in the other window. I'm building my way up - and the whole thing will end with the poem, I promise.
:D