I am back! I'll be blogging the Escapade experience very soon.
But first...where is Maygra? Has anyone seen or heard from Maygra?
I turned my back on her for 42 seconds at DIA last night and she was kidnapped by aliens. Due to a series of delayed flights, she was about to miss her last connection home at the time our plane finally touched down. She was coming to my little apartment to spend the night but she disappeared.
I spent 25 minutes running up and down the concourse, looking for her. Then I had her paged four times and I hovered over the White Courtesy Telephone for another 30 minutes waiting to hear from her but the sounds of silence were all that greeted me.
Did they hold that last plane? Did she charge down the concourse and catch the last flight out by the skin of her teeth?
Is she on some UFO undergoing bizarre sexual experiments from shadowy alien scientists?
Did she spend the night huddled sadly on a hard, plastic chair, thinking mournfully that I'd abandoned her?
Where's Maygra?
Posted by AnneZook at 11:31 AM | Comments (0)Remember, many of us you'll be seeing there are just "different."
Make allowances.
Extroverts are energized by people, and wilt or fade when alone. They often seem bored by themselves, in both senses of the expression. Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone. In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially "on," we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing. This isn't antisocial. It isn't a sign of depression. It does not call for medication. For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating. Our motto: "I'm okay, you're okay—in small doses."
For some introverts, we might choose some time alone with our thoughts over food. Or sleep.
How many people are introverts? I performed exhaustive research on this question, in the form of a quick Google search. The answer: About 25 percent. Or: Just under half. Or—my favorite—"a minority in the regular population but a majority in the gifted population."
But we're not stupid.
(many actors, I've read, are introverts, and many introverts, when socializing, feel like actors),
That's me. I'm okay socially if I have a "role" to play, but I can't get started without that booster.
I know some of you may be less-than thrilled with the previous, narcissistic entry.
You may, for instance, be more interested to know how the new job is going or something? Someone mentioned to me that I blogged the start of my training (on the 13th) but never followed up.
For those keeping score at home, yes, I did learn all four new software programs in five days. And then I took Monday and Tuesday of this week to practice the two most complicated of them, to make sure I can actually produce a finished product. The other two are a bookkeeping program that I should have practiced but don't really have any interest in and a mass-email program (opt-in only, I promise) that I only have to know Dreamweaver for.
I don't actually know Dreamweaver and it wasn't on the list of things I knew I needed to learn until last Friday when the Tweenybopper dropped it casually into a conversation. She passed along a book on html that I will be studying with fierce dedication. It's not specifically on Dreamweaver, but she assured me it would be enough.
So...what else? Well, aside from the duties associated with the four software programs, there are a handful of other duties. Prepping for and attending conferences to help scoop in respondents for the satisfaction surveys. A bit of light bookkeeping. (So not my strong suit.) Some shipping and receiving. Keeping the kitchen clean which, yes, is entirely beneath my position and my years of experience and while I know that no one would ask a man who had my job to also clean the kitchen, I'm resigned. Besides, there are days when one doesn't really feel productive and it doesn't really hurt to have something non-productive but that looks like work to fall back on.
Also? I've seen both Buehler and Bernie wash the dishes themselves a time or two, so it's not as sexist as it sounds.
Anyhow. Bernie was actually out of the office last Friday and then Monday and Tuesday of this week. Technically I wasn't working today although I did go in for the Tweenybopper's Farewell Lunch (and to spend a couple of hours going over some additional questions I had for her). So I haven't really worked with Bernie enough to know if he's going to drive me as batshit crazy as he seems to drive almost everyone else.
So, you know, besides the news that I broke my brain learning too much new stuff in one week, I just don't have that much to report about The New Position. Presumably more excitement will ensue upon my return from Escapade...but I'll worry about that then.
The advent of the Con got me thinking, as it usually does, about recently (comparatively recently) abandoned stories. So, I took a trip through memory lane, via my hard drive.
My first "active" fandom was Highlander. Back in the day when much of the world was on AOL and "groups" were all Listserve.
Poking around on AOL one day, I found a "group" discussing Highlander, a show I'd just recently reconverted to. (Methos!)
Largely gen, but there was a small slash contingency.
And I had this, "wow, slash!" moment.
Slash. I hadn't thought about slash for ten years or more. I'd almost forgotten that it existed.
I joined. I chatted. I read stories. I "met" people. Eventually...I wrote. (And, yes, I abandoned.)
Phantom - My first-ever fanfic story, from late in 1996! And gen! I only got about halfway through the planned plot before I moved on to slash.
The Seduction of Duncan MacLeod - Duncan and Cory. It was mostly about the sex, so no big loss.
Penalty Box - Speaking of sex.... Heehee. I can't believe I still have a copy of that on my hard drive!
Jack - I should finish that one some day. I still think the premise has some appeal and I really enjoyed the melodramatic approach. Plus, I have a passion for the Victorian age, so I very much enjoyed writing a story set in it.
Tomorrow - One page, but that's all it was meant to be. Sometimes, you just have a scene in your head and you have to write it down. But it's not really a story, you know?
Several of those are gen. HL was the only fandom where I really ever wanted to write gen.
I had some other story ideas, from back in the days when I spent a lot of time drafting stories on paper. I actually ran across a pile of them last weekend, in the Great Bookcase Clear-out. Some of it was good for a few laughs and sighs of remembrance before I tossed it.
I didn't write as much in Highlander as I hoped to before I was seduced away by more contemporary men, aliens, and secret government conspiracies. Circa 1998 or thereabouts.
Fantasies - That was a Krycek thing and dumb enough that I'm glad I left it unfinished. It was a sequel to something, I think. Can't remember.
Hunt - I'm always getting these wild urges to write something really atmospheric. This one served no useful purpose at all. I just thought I should practice writing atmosphere and physical setting, instead of doing a dialogue dump with every story. So...almost no dialogue, but plenty of "atmosphere." And...not a good story.
Left...dreaming - A Walter-introspection piece that never went anywhere.
20 Months Later - A sequel to my unloved AU.
Defense - A case-file story. I started this one in '97 and have chunks of it written, along with a fairly comprehensive outline of the rest of it. I always wanted to write case file stories in The X-Files, but I was never successful.
There were others, but those are the ones I actually got around to starting before the love died (in 1999, to be exact) and I moved on. I had flirtations with Due South and Sentinel but I didn't produce much in either of them.
And then...a Canadian SGI (Secret Government Installation) took possession of my brain. Once a Thief.
In 1999, I wrote one half-decent story and one PWP.
From 2000 through 2004, I wrote and wrote. And then I rewrote and rewrote and tore my hair out, beating my head against the walls and breaking my heart.
School Days - 40 pages of dreck.
Trade Winds - 49 pages of garbage.
Hocus Pocus - Eight pages of outline but no story. I couldn't figure out the point, until I realized that I was, once again, struggling desperately to produce "atomosphere."
I was...discouraged. I wrote all of those in 2000 and it was 2004 before I tried again.
Shadowplay - I spent close to a year on this one. 160 pages of pure, unadulterated crap. I have five versions of this one, each worse than the last.
It took me a long time to admit that no matter how much I loved OAT, it hated me.
I think at this point I'm just grateful that I had the sense to stop posting stuff when it became clear that the magic was gone. At least most of my humiliation was private. When I die, the password that unlocks those files dies with me.
Then I had a new idea. I decided to write LESS (or, rather, L.E.S.S.). It began as a joke, but I actually started four stories at Escapade and finished two of them later in the year. They weren't good but they could have been worse. Just short bits of fluff, so no stress.
(I have Kat Allison to thank for that. She spent a lot of time with me one day at Escapade last year, talking me down off the ledge and convincing me that I didn't have to eat the entire watermelon in one bite.)
Anyhow. I'm taking the other two stories (both DS) back with me this year. Maybe I'll get some more written. There's just something about the atmosphere at Escapade. It's conducive.
Which, by the way, is how this entire boring entry started. I really just sat down to print the story files since I'm not taking the computer with me.
(The R.C. just called to say this "abandoned stories" thing was a meme on LJ recently. I'm timely! I'm thematic! And I didn't even know it! I wonder if anyone else's list was as self-indulgent as mine turned out to be?)
(Also, she wants to quit her job. I told her I'm employed now, she can quit if she wants to. She thinks she should hold off until I've actually gotten a paycheck. I guess that's reasonable.)
Tomorrow I leave for Escapade! Hooray!
An invitation to join a group of politibloggers this Saturday night just revived some very unpleasant old memories.
I met this group once before, about three years ago, shortly after I started blogging. Being, as I am, not good with groups of strangers, I helped myself to a couple of drinks early in the evening. Sadly, at that time I'd just started taking my thyroid meds and I was completely unaware that they don't mix well with booze, especially for someone who almost never drinks.
That's the only time, since I was about 20, that I've blacked out while drinking.
I remember the early part of the evening. The first beer and part of the second one. Then there's a long, black interval and when I briefly "came to" I was standing in the middle of a group of rabid righties being attacked on all sides and trying to use my four functioning brains cells to defend...I have no idea what. No memory at all.
I do remember that I had the sense to realize that I was ten times as drunk as I should be. I made my way outside and called the R.C. It took an exchange of five or six phone calls with her to explain to me how to call a cab.
For those of you who wonder why I don't have a convivial drink or two when we're out, that's why. I do, upon occasion, treat myself to a single malt beverage. I almost never go past one. If you're ever with me and I reach for a third, prove you love me by taking away the booze and my keys, okay?
Anyhow, I tendered my regrets for Saturday evening. It's supposed to be snowing again by then.
Yes, it's off to work I goed!
(Sorry about that.)
Today was my first day (of eight) of training.
On the one hand, I haven't had the luxury of getting a job where there was anyone available to train me in...must have been a decade or so. It's an unusual experience any more.
On the other hand, I really hate being trained. I usually do well enough if just left alone with a software program (I have four new ones to learn for this job) and whatever manual is available.
But, back to the first hand, after today, I barely understand what the job is. Oh, I understand vaguely that I'll be helping to prep stuff for conferences and bulk e-mails (opt-in only) and electronic newsletters. But I don't understand the stuff you have to do to get to the point where you arrive at a conference or send the e-mail/newsletter. (A lot of that is where the four s/w programs come into play.)
I keep telling myself to look upon it as an adventure, not as a sign that I'm getting old and feeble-minded and unfit to be in the job force any longer.
Sigh.
But! Paychecks will again begin to arrive on a regular basis! I can get behind that concept. I can pay for Escapade! (I can shop on Amazon! I can buy...stuff!)
If I can find them, I can buy my previous shampoo and crème rinse and throw away this garbage I bought when I was trying to be "frugal." Turns out that cheap hair products were a false economy, judging by the mass of dried-out straw currently covering my head.
I can buy the other twelve books in the series I just started reading. (Not all at once, of course.)
Second sigh.
Although...I finished a new book yesterday and took it to my room to shelve it. Three hours later, I had two boxes of books stacked in the bedroom floor that I'm getting rid of but don't know what to do with (I've taken to many to the local library that they're giving me dirty looks when I walk in with a box full. I may have to drive to other libraries.) I also have a handful of MYSA-AS books I bought that turned out to be mistakes (for my taste). I may take those to Escapade and drop them onto the swap table. Someone might want them.
And I didn't (back to the beginning of that last paragraph) really clear out that much space on the shelves, either. I might be able to fit another carton or three of books in storage. I guess that's my only other option, until I find a larger place to live.
But. I was going to talk about the new job, wasn't I?
I have a deadline for learning everything. Early in May I have to attend a conference in San Francisco. All of the now-daunting and mysterious software programs and projects will be required to prepare for this. So, I have sixty days to learn to do a lot of things I've never done before.
I could swear that when they offered me this job, it sounded a lot more like the sort of thing I've been doing for twenty years, but it's not really looking like that.
Which reminds me...I brought home 160 pages worth of instruction manuals. I should be reading them.
This is the most compelling argument yet that by trumpeting Brokeback Mountain as a "love story" instead of a "gay love story" critics (and viewers) are missing the point.
And don't miss this new Ehrenstein perspective that says the movie was aimed at us.)
(I blog about this movie a lot for someone who hasn't seen it and isn't going to.)
This matters less to those of us who don't have to roll out of bed and go to work, but I'm celebrating on your behalf.
Also, for those keeping score, the energy to roll out of my easy chair and shop never did materialize yesterday, but today I went out and bought two new paperbacks. There were other things I could have shopped for, but I have Domestic Chores to attend to today.
The usual stuff. Load of laundry, vacuum, dust (the last two would appear on my chore list less often if I actually did them occasionally), grocery store. I haven't done any of them yet, because I've been politiblogging, but I intend to. (One good rant can eat up three or four hours of a day.)
Also, the prescription refill I never got around to getting on Monday has now moved to the "urgent" section of the list. I was thinking I could call it in, walk over and pick it up, and swing by Whole Foods on the way home. (Us employed people can eat out sometimes if we want to.)
The two new books are MYSA-AS, of course.
Petshop of Horrors #10. (Snif. Count D is my current adoration. I'm not sure if I want to sleep with him, or back him into a corner and listen in fascination while he talks. It's all very fannish and I'm sad to wave bye-bye to him. I have the available scanlations of the new series but I haven't decided if I'm going to like it yet or not. The ending of the first series was charmingly bittersweet. Rather perfect, in fact.)
Also, Descendants of Darkness #9, hooray! I'm in no doubt of what I'd like to do with Tsuzuki, but he belongs to Hisoka.
I was going to order the rest of Kyo Kara Maoh! now that I'm employed, but I decided to wait until I actually see a paycheck. I have 80+ hours of pay coming to me one of these days...whenever one of the companies I've worked for decides to cut me a check.
And because you were all so polite and didn't bitch about yesterday's ridiculously long entry, I'm going to be nice to you today and make this a short one.
She gasped, sagging into a chair.
#1 - I have completed my sentence...I mean assignment, at the R.C.'s festival.
The merriment continues in festive downtown Denver, but I'm not scheduled to partake of any more of it. I did 23 hours in 2 days and that was more than enough. I'm too old to do that kind of thing. Especially without six months to gear myself up for it mentally. And maybe drugs.
I'm going to babble on about it at length, so feel free to skip to #2.
The experience didn't start out auspiciously. I was booked in to the H*l*d*y Inn, a chain I'd never book on my own money, and when I called for directions, I reached a very silly woman.
Me: "I'm booked into your hotel and I've never stayed there before. I've just arrived in downtown Denver and I was wondering if you could tell me where the entrance to the parking garage is?"
Her: "It's right beside the gift shop."
I ask you. Is that a useful response?
My meal in their restaurant that evening made me vilely sick. (I should have been suspicious when my soup course didn't arrive in a timely fashion. When I was served my entree, I asked about the soup and was told they were, "heating it up.") In consequence, my entire digestive system was upset for the next two days, but not to any debilitating extent. Also, the H.I. wasn't as gross as it might have been because I was only there to sleep and bathe. It was pretty gross, but it would have been worse if I'd had a lot of spare time and been stuck there for hours.
In spite of being scheduled for 10 and 12-hour shifts on my two work days, I was only scheduled for one 30-minute lunch break each day. That could have been a problem, especially Wednesday, when I downed two venti lattes before 10:00 a.m., but there were intervals of calm that I used to good advantage. (The ladies' room was a mere 50 feet away.)
The R.C. took very good care of me, too. She met me for breakfast my first day (possibly to check and see if I was recuperated sufficiently to work) and walked me to my work station. She also lunched and dinnered with me (we dined with another temp, Sweetest, who was at loose ends and towards whom I was already feeling an astonishing gratitude for the amount of time she'd spent helping me with my constant software issues) on Tuesday but by Wednesday, our schedules were already going in completely different directions. (I'm whining, but what she was doing made my job look like a picnic.)
The work itself? As I explained to all and sundry last night, the company asked me if I'd like to come in and earn some more money doing that work. No one asked me if I'd be good at it. (Had they asked, I'd have answered honestly. No.)
As it turns out, I wasn't. Good at it, I mean. Oh, I was fine with the people part of the thing. Meeting and greeting and getting people through the registration line with dispatch and courtesy. But my accounts never balanced at the end of the day.
30 years ago I had a very brief career working at a bank. The reason it was very brief was because my cash box never balanced at the end of the day. You'd be surprised how cranky that kind of things makes a banker. I know I was.
Thanks to the courtesy, expertise, and all-around fabulousness of Sweetest, I wasn't required to hang out there until midnight each day struggling with the problems I'd created. At the end of each shift, she kindly took my papers and beat them into shape. (One day she did it for me mid-day, correcting the problems I'd already introduced into the equation. I must admit she wasn't best-pleased to discover that I was still off at the end of that day. I seem to have discovered ways to misuse their proprietary computer program never before explored in the history of their company.)
I even had my own assistant to help with the more routine parts of the task, which should have allowed me to focus on doing my data entry more carefully.
Sadly, although she was in every other way a jewel, said temp was inclined to bossiness and wanting to do things her way and not the company's way. Although I hate a conflict more than anything else in the world, by Wednesday morning I was forced to draw her aside, tell her that she was proactive, hard-working, cheerful, great with the registrants, and a lot of fun to be around. And that she was also and unfortunately inclined to argue with me in front of the registrants, which Would. Not. Do. On matters of where we were to apply the rules rigidly and where we were to be flexible, I was and had to be the last word.
(This isn't me control-freaking, although I know it sounds like it is. Her organization makes a lot of money offering temps to help at big shows. I thought it was important that any decision that had to be made that might be wrong and cause problems in the future should be unquestionably not her fault.)
(Also? If the registrant can get the people behind the desk arguing about what can or can't be done, they've won. No matter how rigidly the rule should have been applied, they know they're going to get a free ride. Considering the amount of money it costs companies to provide staff for on-site registrations for people too lazy or disorganized to register in advance, on-site registrations really need to be discouraged.)
What else? Oh, yes. I'm not a morning person, something I might have mentioned ten or fifty times in the past. It's a bit...disconcerting...for me to be faced with 700 very anxious registrants at 6:30 a.m., all of whom need to get their badges and info and be on a bus by 7:00. Technically, helping them wasn't my job but even if not asked (very politely and anxiously) if I "minded" giving a hand, I doubt I'd have been able to sit at my own station and ignore the throngs. It's a tribute to the experience and slick organization of the R.C.'s company that they handled the situation with ease.
(It remains a mystery to me why organizations don't build a 48-hour window into their schedules and just mail the pre-registered attendees their information, but not a big mystery. People would lose or forget stuff and anyhow, having worked behind the scenes for the last three months, I understand that those responsible for organizing the show cannot beg, whine, bribe, or force the necessary information out of others a single instant before the last one.)
In closing, let me say that I don't think I've ever worked with a nicer bunch of people than the R.C.'s group, and that I never want to see any of them again.
(Except Sweetest, someone I'd hire in an instant for any position I had available that might interest her.)
Moving on....
#2 - I'm employed!
Buehler is not yet at a place where he can pay me, but the sister company of Bernie, the Tweenybopper, and DiamondGirl is in need of assistance. It seems that the Tweenybopper and her twin sister are moving to Philly. Thus, a replacement is required.
Of all the options in front of me, working for Bernie was the least attractive, but I told myself I'd work for whomever (Whoever? That's a tricky one.) came through with an offer first and he beat out Alvin by 24 hours. Also, since he can't quite yet pay me what Buehler was paying, I have the option to switch to Buehler in the future if I choose to.
I haven't yet broken the bad news to Alvin.
So far, Bernie and I have had two extended chats about the evils of micromanaging people. We'll see if any of my boulder-like hints made an impression.
(I remember a time when having three men vying for my favors meant I was going to get laid. Is it a sign of maturity, venality, or just old age that I'm willing to settle for money these days?)
Anyhow. I was right to tempt the fates by scheduling Escapade. I start for Bernie on the 13th of this month but he knows I'll be out of town the 23rd through the 28th. (I always schedule an extra day off at the end of Escapade, just to revel in the renewed Fannish Love.)
I have the next ten days off and I intend to spend them relaxing, a thing I haven't been able to do much of during my stint of so-called unemployment. I am going to treat it like a vacation.
3 - Starting today...because I just this second realized that if I'm employed, I can shop!
As soon as I have the strength to get out of my easy chair, I'm putting on shoes and going to the bank to deposit the $700+ in paychecks that I didn't get around to depositingn last, week, then I'm going to hit a store.
I'm not sure what store, but a store!