In a hole in the ground there lived a writer….
I’m not going to tell you — and you’re not going to ask — about hair on my toes (are you? that’s so rude!) but…. it’s all very weird yo.
As I was getting ready for this micro-con (it really, really is) and freaking out internally. I no longer know how to pack. I feel a million years old. People — ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
So, we’re here. It’s fun. Mostly because well, all of the Texas troublemakers are here. So, you know, there’s a defense wall.
But mostly, being in con mode, looking around myself, the people I know….
I thought we’d all have aged 10 years. Because internally it feels like I aged ten years. I think that’s the effect of being put through the emotional ringer backwards and sideways for the last two. But … well, I don’t know about me. I probably do look 10 years older (So, my ear piercing closed. I found that out yesterday. I only wear earrings at public things. This has happened once before when I had infants. I’m going to have to have them re-pierced) but anyway, other people don’t. They look remarkably good.
What everyone looks is…. softer and calmer is not the right term. It’s a sort of “I’ve seen some sh*t and this ain’t nothing” which I’ve only seen before in people who came back from (real, combat) war or who had survived a very serious near-fatal illness.
Everyone is mellow, and a little…. softer.
Which didn’t prevent me from staying up till near midnight talking to friends. Because that’s what you do at cons. Something the last two years have made me very aware of: given all the friends I lost (Startlingly few of them of COVID) I’ll have fun with my friends while we’re both this side of the sod.
I’ll take the near-midnight as a sign I’m getting old. I used to collapse at two or three in the morning.
Anyway, I’m okay, will try to do promo post tomorrow morning, but no promises, depending on a ton of other things.
If not, will post on Monday.