Snap.
My head snaps back as it hits my all-too-familiar chairback, and I find myself transported magically to the precise spot I was in five days ago.
The past five days are already blurring into "lessons learned" as opposed to the "thisishappenningthisishappenningthisishappenning" that they were moments ago.
I am sopping wet again.
I am worrying about work and tenmillionotherthings again.
I have a nasty mother of a cold brewing in my lungs and my loathing of air-conditioning has never been so strong.
New York can be divided into two parts.
H2K and wanderings with princess.
H2K first, huh?
If I never see another milling throng of overweight-and-angry-about-it fifteen-year-olds in Custom Reproductions of vynil Matrix Trenchcoats, trying so damned hard to be that angry cool...
But I can't say that. I've been there.
So what can I say?
Jeff, you're still a dick. Jason, Zed, Pat and Jeff - remnants of a SecureOps nightmare were there, and while Jason was a pleasure to opine with, and while Zed was kind with his massages, Jeff, laughinstock of the entire bloody convention (even the fifteen year-old Prometheus who couldn't figure out how to get Nessus installed on his machine picked up on that...) and insisted on blurting my name to every fellow hanging off my arm.
cf, I can't believe you weren't there, but good thing you weren't. :)
Did I mention this was a convention brimming with teenage boys who'd never seen girls before?
There was maybe 8-uvem. All beautiful ladies, we hugged muchly - seemingly to everyone else's chagrin.
But I'm getting sidetracked.
We're not getting into the "appreciated for the wrong reasons" shite tonight.
Maybe the only answer there is to give in and make the most of this "being girl" bullshit and just make the rest of my life easier, eh?
It's all about making life easier, ain't it?
Not better for anyone else or anything.
Just easier.
ANYWAY.
So there was this young german fellow, 19 years old and already possessing more knowledge in his herculean hands than I in every outstretched pretense i have for a brain.
What is it with blonds, eh? I purportedly hate blonds, but anyway.
Especially when you combine it with blue eyes so dull and non-descript that attempting to stare into them while pumping him for information was in fact nearly unpleasant.
But the man-child, all glowering broad-shouldered six feet of him impressed me with more than his kissing. Although switching to mentholated smokes cuz I hate the taste of americano smokes was a neat twist.
Speaking four languages fluently (polish and french being the two that impressed me) among others, was a neat plus.
The fact that he's a hacker who specializes in smartcards and helps run the Kaos project in Germany...
Well now.
Young man, I'll be e-mailing you anon, hopefully after you've gotten over that nasty hangover that had you behaving as something of a macho child.
Dammit, I was *enjoying* Cap'n Crunch's meanderings about the Indian telephony system before Jeedi had tah sit down and make noise.
I mean there's causing trouble for the sake of change, and causing trouble for the sake of...
Impressing a girl?
Hah.
Hardly.
ANYWAY.
I was horrendously disappointed with our dear Jello Biafra's speech.
How he managed to cram that much BULLSHIT into two hours...
He knows very well that he was asked there to rile the kids up about The Man and make some fun political speech.
When he mentioned shit about the computer industry, I thought I was going to hurl.
Jello, you've gotten old on us, Jello, you've let go on us...
I hope I don't.
I want on that hacker smartcard list for the knowledge, right?
Anyway.
More about the restadatrip tommorrow.
In the meantime, I'm going to try to remember the name of that fellow who so delightfully argued solipsism and how "we must move beyond the web" with me, all the while peering out at me from behind his Spider Jerusalem sunglasses, past 2am, stretched out on the tables of the "LAN" room after the kiddies had gone to bed, and before princess had returned from the uber-goth-club to fetch me home.
(I got claustrophobic and ended up returning to the geek-fair. I guess geek won out over goth. I dunno how I feel about that.)
I got a sticker that says Destroy What Bores You On Sight from Trini who was happy to explain a few things about their hubbub of last year.
For a sci-fi con where I got to learn stuff, it rocked.
For making me feel like I had someplace to go, it rocked.
For making me feel like I had a lot to catch up on, well... I would rather have been made to feel even dumber and more out of the loop than as disgusted as I was at times with the distinct political nature of most of the seminars. But a few of the people made up for it, and a few of the seminars were worth it.
For making me feel temporarily like a hottie, it rocked.
For... For... For imbuing me with a renewed sense of wonder into the whys and hows I started all this...
I remember.
And y'know, Steven, I'm going to get around to that Mensa test eventually. Because the group feels good.
Really really good.
And in the meantime, I'm kissing the keys of my beloved machine, knowing that a hundred people told me I could call if I needed to talk, but not knowing if I can talk to anyone.
(When Marc called back to see if I was okay, I nearly cried but didn't know how to go into it. But oh what a difference it made that he called...)
Y'see, I called home Monday night, to find out that my dad's in the hospital on dialysis with kidney failure after his heart stopped on the operating table.
Wot a mouthful, eh?
All I know is he's conscious. I don't know where, I can't reach the rest of my family - answering machines everywhere, and all I can think is...
Idon'thavetimeforthis.
His third heart attack, I cancelled Saturday's wedding to either - see him in the hospital, or plan his funeral.
And all I can think is...
Idon'thavetimeforthis.