Chris:
Mordak finally snatched up the Plectrum of Sealing. With this mystical
item, he unlocked his Ax of Slaying, and totally messed up the analogy.
This, is of course, a friendly reminder to read up on last year's
Con, so you can get a feel for how both went down.
FRIDAY:
Now
I can safely begin by saying my recollection of this Con isn't as
concrete as it well-should be. I'll miss the finer points, that will
no doubt be reminded to me. So with that in mind, let's give this
a shot.
My
journey this time begins on a crisp Friday morn. For whatever reason
last Con, I neglected to turn up to help set up. Whatever the reason
was, I'm sure it was pointless and mostly just apathetic. Anyway,
back to the morn.
If
memory serves, I got up at about 6:00: cloistered in a sleeping bag
atop the showroom sheets awaiting the auction on Saturday. Of course,
a below zero sleeping bag isn't enough to keep me warm, so I had a
winter-weight quilt dropped on top of it as well. I woke up sore,
and dehydrated. The BEST way to wake up.
So
fifteen minutes after I was supposed to be up, I eventually writhed
to the floor, and collapsed. I hadn't packed my bag like I had intended
to the prior night, so that happened throughout my scramble. Hygiene
was paramount, and I waste a good half an hour in the bathroom, showering
and shaving. I... think I ate breakfast, which would aid me in things
to come *forboding percussion* Ham and cheese muffins, or something.
Quite good.
Because
I knew that I would be marooned at the Con with nary a food to eat,
my bag became a mish-mash of culinary disaster. A butterknife joined
the dive into the pack, along with it's charge: an orange. A museli
bar, sticky as all joined something much more 'attractive': two fruit
buns. OHH. That's what I had for breakfast too. Stupid me. To wash
this quasi-lunch down, add to the mix one bottle of water. Ehh...
I tossed my clipboard and sketching gear in there too, but I didn't
think they'd be of any use.
After
dressing, and double checking the departure of the bus, it clicked
that I had to purchase a new multitrip, or I couldn't get home tonight.
As my unemployment seems to have gone on for an eternity, I went to
my last vestige of currency. My Swiss Bank of bling bling. My- WHERE
IN THE TEN LAYERS OF HELL IS IT?! OK. This is the part where I run
around madly, tearing up the room I had prepared for the auction tomorrow
in a futile search for $7. This happened a mere half an hour before
my bus. Of course, I never panic during. That's quite dull actually.
Panicking would have been a lot better to write about.
After
a phonecall with Dad, then Mark - to assure there would be some scratch
when I arrive, I slap on my Walkman, and set off to the bus stop.
Not really a hike, just a few minutes away. Of course, the cattawaling
from the terrible morning crew sickened me. Arriving at the main arterial
to the city, I pulled my hat down lower, adjusted my windcheater,
and waited for the bus on the METAL seats. A poor choice for Australia:
steaming hot during Summer and butt-chafingly cold during Winter.
So to avoid chafing of the posterior, I paced back and forth after
mere moments of sit-itude.
I
know I'm going on, but I'm setting the scene, and not all that much
happened.
The
bus ground to a halt, after I signalled. Like a well-trained... hulking
piece of metal. I did my regular "be polite to people that have
the power to plow your vehicle into the side of a convenience store"
routine, then found a seat where I had to look at the least amount
of humanity possible. The bus trip was mostly uneventful. I think
there may've been a good song or two on at some time, and I'm sure
my incessant tapping on the window sill drove more than one passenger
barmy.
With
the customary thanks for my arrival minus death to the disgruntled,
and prone to striking transport employee, I set out for the University
of Slight Disfigurement-t! *thunder* I arrived ten minutes or so before
12pm: the scheduled time that we were supposed to start setting up.
Of course, after several patrols of the two levels to be used for
the Con, I failed to find anyone. Camping with my eye trained on the
stairs, like I did some days ago against James on Opposing Forces.
Unfortunately, just like that game, I kept accidently capping Simon,
my team-mate instead. None of the meatbags that staggered around were
Stinys, or committee members. Of course, it hadn't clicked that the
lass (Bec) that waited on the walkway nearby was one of the Stinys,
but none of us perfect are.
Of
course, I then get fragged by Neil. Oppertunistic. Came from behind.
Coward. Upon establishing that only the four of us had arrived (it
was Neil +1. There'll be a lot of names that don't appear. I suck
at names). Right. So we decided to start setting up. Well, carting's
more appropriate a term. Mark turned up in the process, and someone
else... so I set out to help unload the van downstairs, while a larger
group nursed the equipment at the locked Union Cinema. The elevator
and I became fast friends. It gets slightly tiresome dragging everything
up and down five flights of stairs. So as Neil unloaded gear, "we"
slowly got everything upstairs. Audio equipment, games, drinks, Pocky:
that kind of shite. Connell turned up in the process, and in turn,
his gear was moved up.
At
some point, the Union Cinema was opened by the Stewart. Heh... wait
- that isn't funny. Writing all of this is screwing with my head.
OK. So we double handled all the gear into the Cinema for safe-keeping.
With a now-enlargened group of workers, we set about deciding on who
would go where. Mark was yet to get the badges printed out, and Connell
was conscribed into being the transport. Again. Poor Connell... I
wanted to tag along, because of my superior being able to push a trolley
and carry things skills, but all of this would have been far too complicated
to explain. So as the number of people that would entreat to OfficeWorks,
and KFC (Lunch was needed) exploded to six, I made my way out to the
car.
This
tactic seemed to work perfectly, as the number became three before
they reached the car. Beurocracy thinning the number by levels of
importance. My excuse was that I wanted a multitrip, but I knew that
my presence was required. So, after a relatively dull car-trip, broken
up by a small arguement about which venue to go to first, it was decided
that we get all of the stationary first.
I'm
pretty sure I said we should scare the normals to Connell as we walked
in to OfficeWorks, and by the end I'm sure we had. Mark and Bec peeled
off to get all the badges printed, while Connell and I snatched up
a trolley and started to decipher Mark's scrawl. It was a pretty nice
range of stationary... I guess... For someone that does all of his
artwork off one HB pacer and whatever paper I find looking around
that is. So after a small time, and eventually resorting to crossing
items we had gotten from the list, heaven forbid, we came back to
Mark.
After
snatching up some whiteboard erasers that were nowhere near the whiteboard
markers, we retired to wait with a partially full trolley at the desk
of the print studio. They weren't done yet. After a load of pop culture
remeniscence, and line quotage, they still weren't done. After complaining
about food, and repeatedly checking the time they still weren't finished.
Let's just say it took over two freaking hours. Time that was only
partially spent well.
KFC
came and went fast. All I got was a box of large chips. I had to conserve
the $20 I borrowed from Mark. It had to be spread a little thin.
Right,
now this is where things get a little hazy, but I'll give it a go.
The food was deposited downstairs, where Neil and a small army of
Stinys had done quite a good job at getting things set up. Most of
the committee present were clustered around the centre of the room,
that housed a quartet of couches, facing a small stage. So food was
consumed, words were exchanged, and I got bored and messed around
on a flat top trolley for a while.
I
went back upstairs and helped Drew arrange the tables again, in preparation
for the arrival of goods from Madman. Uhh... yeah. I did that.
So
the next thing I remember is a small group of us began to stuff the
badges. We proceeded to place a thousand of them into little plastic
sleeves. Of course, they would have to remove them again to write
a name if they hadn't preregistered, but that was neither here nor
there. A few comments were made about Connell's Chii that appeared
on the Saturday Day Pass. Eh. I'm sure there was some pretty neat
verbal exchanges, but nothing that stirs the old grey mass.
Although
there is something. Other than the accidental copies that had been
made of pre-reg badges that caused slight discomfort, Mark had a few
test badges made to trial the mail merge function in whichever Microsoft
product he had used. It doesn't matter. All that matters was the badge.
The test badges contained the faux name "Joseph Name", which
I thought was pretty neat. Of course only in the sense that I would
undergo a miraculous transformation from Staff to a member of the
public, with the perks of both positions. That would happen later
on.
I
went around and handed out the committee and staff badges (which merely
displayed the word 'Staff'. Poor staff.) , then went back downstairs
and helped start the production of the showbags that would be dolled
out to the patrons. We reached about 600 of 1000 bags before the stupid
line broke down.
Oh
yeah, Simon turned up at some point during the badge production, and
got some guest passes for the gentlemen from OzForces that would be
arriving tomorrow to document the event. So, it was getting near the
time for Reset//0 (or however it's bloody spelt) to perform at the
Governer Hindmarsh, the gig Mitchell had prepared for them as well
as the Con performance on Sunday. Apparently it was important that
we had a J band perform. Don't ask me: I'm just a mere art monkey.
So
Simon gave Drew and I a lift to the gig. We had to clarify that the
venue was right, and ended up doing so, and Simon left. He was none
too impressed by the music on offer, and Mark declined on coming because
of his oversensitive spectum. That, or he's a pansy. I'm the Ashtmatic,
and still went. OK: forget that. On with the tale. So Drew and I waited
outside for another car to turn up so he could put his bag away. I
held on to mine, well aware that I'd be snatching the last bus home.
I had forgotten to buy the multitrip, but I borrowed a ticket with
one trip from Mark, and planned on buying the trip there with money
I'd no doubt get from Dad in the morning.
We
eventually go upstairs, myself being the seventh paying customer to
get there, which I found odd as we were already about fifteen minutes
late. So the crowd eventually started to swell, and we got to wait
until 8:30 for things to actually happen. It was worth the wait though.
Although
the structure we sat in was pretty much a roof on support poles, wrapped
in plastic, with only a bar heater to keep it warm, and the volume
of the instruments drowned out the vocals, I thoroughly enjoyed the
rock that was created by the support band, Nine and a Half Incas.
The long scores, indulgent solos and even their little eccentricities
made for a pretty damn good performance, and I had the pleasure of
telling the frontmen of the band so afterwards.
So
as it had all gone a lot longer than I had expected, I toted my bag,
and went to leave, stopped by a concerned Mitchell. It was already
11, so I planned to just walk home and get a small amount of sleep
before helping setting up on Saturday. Mitchell then graciously offered
to give me a lift home after getting the band's gear back to the hostel
afterwards. I accepted, because the prospect of a twenty kilometre
hike is never a pleasant one. So I stayed.
I
was restless during the performance, and didn't really get to enjoy
it as much I could have. Now I'm not saying that they were bad...
I just didn't really enjoy myself. I was cold, and hungry, and hadn't
slept much. Maybe I'm just trying to justify my opinion. I just didn't
like their performance. The nachoes I polished off during weren't
that bad though. I think the waitress gave me a larger portion than
usual because I was polite. Eh, it's just a quirk.
SATURDAY:
So
the band did give a performance right at the end worthy of some applause
from me, and everyone began to leave. I just tried to keep myself
occupied as the bands packed up, singing Dire Straits tunes and sitting
away from everyone else. Mitchell departed with the band, and all
that was left of the audience was Emily, Mark, Midori and myself.
After some deliberation, and good intentions, Emily left with Mark,
and took a cab back to the city. Midori and I waited for Mitchell
to come back.
Oh
we waited alright... for two hours. Two bloody hours. Midori and I
entertained ourselves as well as possible during, just having simple
conversations, and near the end me acting as a sounding block for
Midori's displeasure. There was quite a lot of cursing. Eventually,
we got sick of it, and Midori attempted to obtain Mitchell's mobile
number. Once getting what was supposed to be it, we failed to get
through.
So
at 2:30, Midori was kind enough to let me take a taxi with her, what
with me being penniless and all. So after she reached her port of
call, she left me with the rest of the fare for the trip, and the
driver went about going the wrong bloody way, and costing me all of
the money she had kindly left me. There is no rest as far as misfortune
goes.
So I slinked home, and quietly rushed about, before crashing in the
sleeping bag.
Woke up stiff as a board. Of course I had set my alarm for 7:00, and
got up maybe twenty minutes later. So I got to get up, and rush around
with Dad, getting the house in a state worthy of inspection. Of course
eating, primping and polishing for the day. Even so, I managed to
get there half an hour before opening. There was a non-eventful busride,
and twenty minutes of waking there too, but that's not that brain
straddling.
I
found Mark upstairs in the Unibar, printing out documentation that
had been neglected the prior day, with many other things that would
become apparent. The printer didn't have a proper perch for the paper,
so I aided Mark by holding it. After waiting patiently through his
plodding typing, I offered to type it, and not that long after he
departed. Nathan, who had been in and out for a while, then became
my paper holder, as request after request came in for print-outs.
Uhh...
this is where it gets a little "Chris doesn't care anymore".
Next time I'm drawing a freaking comic or two.
So
to summarise the rest of the day: I skipped out on working my using
Mark's 'Joseph Name' Pre-Reg mock up, avoiding work. Sat down to try
the Manta Ray projector with a rousing game of Melee. The game still
rules, but the projectors were... trash in a pretty box. After a short
while James and Trav turned up, and joined me in my escapades. Mitchell
was dressed as Dejiko. It was frightening. Stopped in on the OzForum
guys and Simon once and a while. Spent a good deal of time in Screening
Room 2: of course had to wait because they lacked sufficient cabling.
Watched something then went and ate Hungry Jack's. He was quite upset.
Returned for more loafing around, and ended up in the AMV Competition
(SR3), to watch Mitchell and Andrew do their panel. It was hilarious.
Due to lack of organisation, we didn't learn squat. Watched the AMV's
(and very few GameMV's), most of which were tripe. Started setting
up for the Quiz Night. Some guys broke the Piano. Everyone came in
too early, and got to sit back and watch us set up, then eat Pizza,
before starting late. I ended up being the Head of the Marking Committee.
This basically meant in the end I did half the work, and had the final
say on the answers. Power is nice. After it was done, I went home,
and crashed.
SUNDAY:
Seriously
people: this is the greatest part of all. I didn't go. That's bloody
right, I didn't go. I passed out. That mishap on Friday really messed
me up, and I just couldn't be bothered going. So I missed out. Of
course, to be perfectly honest, it's most fun when you actually staff
the Con rather than patronise it. By patronise I mean- ahh forget
it. I enjoyed a wonderfully relaxing day. I loafed around, and did
some more of that. The best Con day ever.
Oh,
and as an afterthought: the house sold for a great amount of money,
and Adam totalled his car. Saturday sure had it's low points.
