So about a dozen of us are hanging out in the secret lounge on the ground floor of the Hyatt, wasting time until we get hungry and/or need to print boarding passes. What better to do with our Post-Con Depression than to recap the highlights of the weekend?
Wednesday: We gathered. We watched Olympics. (This will be a theme.) The usual hugging and squeeing. We turned tradition on its ear and went to Alcatraz the first night, instead of Sunday. The goat cheese/artichoke fritters were a big hit. Beth was surprised to learn that Grand Admiral Sean is a child of the ’80’s who still loves those 80’s tunes. Those who were home were pulling all nighters trying to get ready.
Thursday: We gathered again. We watched more Olympics. More squees and hugs as the remainder of the group arrived. The hotel incurred the Wrath of Kelly when she learned that the hotel dared to forget that we own the 19th floor and should all be on it. Thankfully, some of the snafu was fixed through creative room juggling. Games Night, as previously blogged, was a big hit with Telephone Pictionary. (Keep an eye out. Dunc will have them all scanned in.) The winners were pulled for the first-ever “What is thy bidding, my master” services auction. Mike’s massages still the most popular. More Olympics. More inappropriate comments about semi-naked men. Plus, the vinyl naked men were handed out for Project Runway.
Friday: Seminars in the suite. The Emperor imparted his wisdom upon us. We gabbed. Then we headed to the park for the Sith Ascension Picnic. The Darksiders honed our rage by having the hotel give us incorrect maps to find the site, but they failed. We got there. Best game ever: Sithball. When you flip around the bases, it’s very hard to remember which way to run. Our first injuries that con were the concussions and arm injuries from that confusion. The Flaming Wookiee Relay Race was hilarious. Another popular game was Destroyer Toss. The Emperor was honored with the Denjax Teppler Cantina Run in which water guns, water bombs, silly string and Dan’s coconut were hurled at the poor souls who ran it. (Lesson learned: Picking up silly string on the ground requires a lot of people.) We made S’mores. (Dark chocolate rules.) We gave tribute to Mara. And we learned another lesson: Clean up before it gets dark, or have a car available to shine headlights upon the clean-up.
Back to the suite. More Olympics. And Dan ruled the bar in Mary’s stead with the strawberry tequila being substituted for the jalapeño rum. (Mary was missed.)
Saturday: More seminars! Beginners got to learn how to game, but very early. (So it wasn’t normal.) The blogging seminar will probably result in some new people popping up here. We talked about Legacy of the Force. But the biggest event had to be the wine and cheese tasting. (Mmm. Cheese.) Thankfully, we had a two-hour break for setup of the night’s party, so folks got to sleep off their wine buzz. Per Liz, “Success! I got half of Club Jade drunk before 4pm!”
The Big Event was the Mustafar Meltdown Sith Ascension Party. Our fears over the volcano eruption were thankfully abated when we discovered that they had created a cake with tons of icing. And then…we filked. This is when Shane got to filk to ascend to knighthood. “No Sleep at Gencon.” (Think Beasties Boyz gone wrong.) We promoted nearly all padawans. Willow, the Jedi Puppy, got scared and ran to Bob.
The Teacup Auction was a HUGE success. We raised $800 for Reading is Fundamental!!!
We did have to pause, as previously mentioned, for the crowd to watch Michael Phelps win his 8th gold medal. (Oh yeah, there was a relay team involved, apparently, as well.) Amazingly, no one called hotel security with all that screaming of “Faster, more intense.”
After that, things deteriorated further into a group massage. (The Conga Rub) Not as kinky as it sounds, but very relaxing.
Rumor has it that there was a spontaneous filk sing session around 3am. This reporter was sound asleep, but several heard it. [Editor’s note: Though our captain smells of bait…]
Sunday: Post-Con Depression Breakfast kicked off at 9am with bagels, egg sandwiches, yogurt and this mysterious stuff they called fruit. (Very strange food for a con, but we’ll go with it.) PG threw us out at 11am. And so we descended here to the lobby to stave off our depression a little longer.
Plans are for further talking, a couple of meals, and (most likely) more Olympics.
Wow. Late-breaking quote, “It’s Alan Rickman with no genitals.”
Thanks to everyone for following along with the silliness while we’ve been here. Regular blogging might start up again around Tuesday or Wednesday. We need sleep!