Fourth of July weekend in Minnesota doesn’t generally involve BBQs, beach, or patriotic shenanigans for the hubs and me: for the past decade or so we’ve spent every 4th at CONvergence, the
best, craziest, most fucked up, weirdest gathering of people I usually see all year. It’s fabulous and mental, even more so than Renaissance Festival. And by the end of both events I’m peopled-out for about ten months.
From 7pm to 3am I drew them into my snarky web, had a wide variety of fucked up conversations, and people-watched.
- Had dinner with a fabulously loud group of totally normal-looking people at TGIFridays. 90% of the other patrons were in various states of costume disarray, so for once we all looked totally normal. The Friday’s staff were…unimpressed..in general. Neat!
- Saw various versions of …unfortunate…choices of costuming. Con is one of the few places everyone is generally accepted regardless of size, and I love that about it. However, a badly fitting costume that squishes and bulges where it shouldn’t flatters NO ONE, and this particular Poison Ivy looked more like bulbous Poison Oak. Sigh. If she’d gotten a green leotard ONE SIZE bigger it would’ve been a really cool Ivy on a curvy chick. Costume fail, Ivy. Costume fail.
- A friend of mine had Darth Vader in the crack of her ass. No really! (she’d converted a t-shirt to a skirt, and conveniently DV was in the middle, happily bouncing from cheek to crack to cheek as she walked).
- I pointed out that the same friend sat on Vader’s face every time she sat down. Husband wondered if that’s why Vader has a breathing problem.
- Various Tardi (that’s right, Doctor Who-ers: I’m declaring multiple Tardisses are “Tardi”) and Daleks ran the gamut from FUCKING AWESOME to “Why is that girl wearing a tin foil unicorn horn on her head. Wait, that’s a Dalek? WHAT?”
- Got in a near-argument about classism and minorities. Argumentor pissed me off by saying all arts (music, writing, art, etc) should be free and we should go back to the Patron concept. As a writer, fuck you, artists deserve to be paid for their effort. As a historian, no, you uneducated twit, poor people indeed did NOT have it better in Ancient Greece or Rome. Don’t believe me? I pointed out that she can’t sell herself into a ludus to pay off her student loans through Gladiatorial games these days, nor can her boss whip her for calling in sick one day. All in all, not cool: Con is for serious arguments about Star Trek, which Doctor was the best, whether Xena is still relevant (Callisto was there, so Xena IS still relevant!!), and which party has the best booze.
- SAVED from a lingering cranky mood from serious argumentative people when I noticed the giant Pac Man and Ghost were both wearing kilts. Because why not?
- Arthur, King of the Britons and his knights (complete with coconut-clapping and skipping) randomly trotted their way around the Con, followed closely by the armless Black Knight.
- If you don’t understand this reference, stop reading this blog IMMEDIATELY and go watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Then explain to me which rock you’ve been sleeping under for the past 30+ years. Seriously.
- Played Cards Against Humanity with Caprica 6, Zelda, and a few other fantabulous people. If you’ve never played, DO IT, but only if you’re amused by offensive things. I am, because I’m inappropriate. Examples of the “answer” cards I received: Assless Chaps, Glen Beck attacked by crab spiders, which swarm out of his eyes, Twinkies, tentacle porn. The game is terribly wonderful and it’s likely I’m going to hell for being so damn entertained. We’ll have a game table there, too, I’m sure.
- Sighting of Jayne Cobb hats, various versions of Hoban Wash, way too many Hunger Games characters, a plethora of men in Heroine drag (the theme was Women of Sci-Fi, therefore I saw far more hairy-chested Leias than brain bleach could possibly scrub away).
- Possibly the cap on the evening: our friend Robert in red boxers wearing…a pink, fur lined “boat” around his body held on by suspenders. That’s right, Robert came to Con as THE LITTLE MAN IN THE BOAT.
For the first time since my first date with my husband, I was out until 5am, had a fabulous time, and didn’t quietly get crabby from the crowds. I call that a win, and I owe my fun to my most excellent friend who were willing to hang out off and on all night and my husband, who often has to pry me out of the house with a crowbar. My hiatus from Con is likely over…I had enough fun to justify pre-registering AND getting a hotel room for next year after three or four skipped Cons. Your wily seductions win, Convergence. See you next summer.