TELEFANTASTIQUE
2 23-25th July 1999
Usual
disclaimers apply: I don't own any of these people (oooer missus);
all incidents here are purely anecdotal and this con report as a whole
is copyrighted by *me*, kangeiko, 1999. Please do not distribute,
archive or post this report anywhere without my prior permission.
(I'm not likely to say no, but would like to be asked....) Anyway,
again, no transcripts or suchlike, just memories and so forth...
*****
Another
chapter in the 'insane convention' chronicles... Let me say something
here and now. I did not mean anything that Saturday! No!
*****
FRIDAY
23rd JULY For me, T2 started two days before the convention.... when,
on Wednesday morning, I sent Ali Hopkins the less-than-reassuring
email of
"Ali,
darling, I have no ticket, no hotel room, and no time. What do I do????"
Ali, being
a darling, organised it all for me, stopping just short of giving
me a ride to the hotel. Well, she *did* inquire if I would be all
right getting there. Ah, the advantages of having important friends.
;-) Anyway, the convention started on Friday afternoon. Wednesday
night I went to fetch Stef from the train station, and we spent all
night (and the next day) giggling over the upcoming convention....
I'm afraid we had more than a few wicked ideas (some of which got
carried out.... don't ask. *g*). In any case, Thursday morning I realised
that there was a fancy dress theme for every party this convention....
A fact that shocked and dismayed me. What the *hell* could I wear???
And this
is how innocent little me ended up wandering around Kensington Market,
trying on various corsets, bodices and cut off T-shirts in the Goth
section. It was a new experience... I've never met such persistent
salespeople! I mean, I nearly ended up buying a pair of handcuffs
just to shut them up! (Luckily Stef showed up at this point, having
purchased a long black skirt for the Goth theme and dragged me away.
Cheers doll!)
Anyway,
back to the con. Thursday night I decided to make up a goddess costume...
well, something like that, anyway. Ancient Greek theme... oh dear
oh dear. I had fun with a long stretch of black shimmery fabric before
giving up and deciding to wear a long black outfit instead. I was
gonna go as Cassandra... all black outfit, and a permanently horrified
expression on my face.
Well,
the horrified expression came in handy late that evening when I felt
a bit peaky. My mother stuck a thermometer in my mouth and got *that*
expression on her face. You know, the hugely disapproving one that
means all my plans are ruined. But would I be put off? No! And that
is how I went to the con on Friday afternoon - a *very* sore throat,
a fever, stiff neck, cold feet and a few other symptoms. So, naturally,
Stef and I headed straight for the bar (well, wouldn't you?) We were
intending to drown our sorrows and wait for someone we knew to show
up. As far as we could figure, we didn't recognise a single person
from Wolf... not a good sign. Would this mean introducing ourselves
to a whole new bunch of people???
Luckily,
Stef spotted Shaz running around with about ten drinks, heading up
to the third level of the Rad (the T2 people had decided to occupy
the entire third floor of the hotel.... Fun!). Shaz dragged me off
with her and Stef followed, looking very confused. After wandering
around the hotel aimlessly for a while, Stef realised that the opening
ceremony would start in five minutes, and discreetly suggested that
we should all be making our way towards the main hall and get good
seats... Shaz just waved her concerns away. "We'll go there in a minute,"
she assured. file://Have faith,// I thought. And my faith in Shaz
was rewarded (cheers Shaz!) when we finally headed into the main hall...
straight towards one of the front-row tables. That's right, Shaz was
helping the committee.
Let me
explain. I knew a few people on the committee and the various other
departments - Shaz, Ali Hopkins, Michael and Lynne Buckley, etc etc
etc. Of course, when I say I knew them, I am lying. I spoke to them
via email, chatted to them over the phone and had finally met Shaz
at Wolf. I had not met anyone else. All of a sudden I was meeting
people I had spoken to for close to half a year and had never met...
it was a very strange experience. I was actually really shocked to
find out that everyone I had been chatting to - all the people who
had been trying to convince me to come to T2 - were in fact helping
to organise and run it. And I *still* hadn't met Ali...
Anyway.
There I am, waiting patiently with Shaz and everyone else for the
opening ceremony to start (and being introduced to a whole host of
other people I have spoken to for months but have never actually ever
seen) when Shaz sends me off to get drinks. I left Stef behind in
the tender care of one the guys (they meant well, honestly!) and wandered
out into the bar. All the while, I kept worrying that I'd miss the
ceremony... but then, there was the alcohol. And one must have alcohol.
;-)
And, knowing
this little fact, the bar staff decided to torture me by serving me
the slowest Becks and a Malibu and coke in existence. I've written
essays in less time! I take this opportunity to fall asleep on the
bar and nearly didn't notice the crowd of people rushing past. But,
being a well brought-up little girl ;-) I smiled and politely said
hello anyway. A tall guy gave me a lopsided grin and half-waved back,
and a slight brunette greeted me back. It wasn't until I saw John
Rhys Davies walk past me that I realised I had seen the opening ceremony
party walk past... and been greeted by the delicious Michael O'Hare
and the lovely Mira Furlan. *Sigh*. That was well worth the price
of the drinks, let me tell you!
Back to
the opening ceremony. Big cheer for Mira. *Big* cheer for Mira. In
fact, it was such a big cheer for Mira that you didn't actually hear
any of her greeting, apart from the last word - fun. After which the
cheering started up again. *G* Michael O'Hare informed us that he
was imagining us all naked and looked forward to seeing more of us
in the near future. Well, *I* was intrigued! ;-)
I must
end this particular section of the report... there was too much stuff
happening to me personally that is of no interest to anyone else.
Let it be known, however, that Michael O'Hare, upon my being introduced
to him, leaned down the foot it took for him to stare me in the eyes
(his nose about two centimetres from my nose) and inform me solemnly
that, "as the saying goes, I'm *loaded*." Strangely enough, the fact
that he was swaying and waving a drink around had suggested this fact
to me...
Other
highlights of the party later include:
1. Ruth
(Michael's wife) swigging down a Becks in one go (to much cheering);
2. Michael, Shaz and I discussing the merits of various universities
and job possibilities. I was feeling very insecure about my A-Level
results coming through in a few weeks time (no, they still haven't
come out!) and somehow ended up discussing this with Michael. And
there was the mutual bitch about the under-appreciation of people
with PhD's (apparently, I shouldn't get one). The discussion ended
on a very thoughtful comment from Michael. He declared, after careful
consideration, "I think, *swings drink*, that you should, *another
swing*, go to university!" Thank you Michael. ;-)
3. Jane Killick, Shaz, Stef, I and a few others talking later on...
I'm afraid that I rather picked on a waiter (waiter is carrying big
tray of stuff, I smile, CRASH! Stuff all over the floor) and we all
found this rather amusing. ;-) Shaz and Jane discussed writing and
we all discussed... well, I'm sure we discussed something. Didn't
we? Guys? What do you mean, I should remember? Remember what???
4. Stef running into Michael O'Hare...
In any
case, Stef and I got home rather early and flopped into bed... trying
to get an early night for the next morning. My throat was killing
me - I could barely breathe. My fever was also climbing... things
were not looking good for Saturday morning.
TBC in
Saturday 24th July...