Though I really don't believe in jigs. World Fantasy was great fun, despite the strangeness of being at a convention sans Christopher, and the extreme sprawl of the property, which had the odd distinction of feeling like a set from Dynasty or Falcon Crest, The Prisoner, Dirty Dancing, CSI or Bones*, Swamp Thing, and The Shining, depending what part of it you happened to be in.** Plus, there was a painting of a terrifying girl in a blue dress in every single room. (The one in mine and Tiffany's was between the wall and the TV hutch, where you forgot it was there…until you looked over and its eyes were following you.) Maybe there was a little Addams Family–with palm trees–going on with the property too, actually. At night blown bulbs left the illuminated sign over the convention center saying CONVEN CENTER.
Though I brought my camera, I then discovered it was out of batteries and never bothered to replace them. So these memories of the bizarro Town & Country will have to live on only in the mind.
I somehow managed to miss a few people entirely, which I can't remember ever happening at a convention, and to see others far too little, which happens at all of them. But there was plenty of fabulousness to make up for this–running into dear friends in the bar or the cafe, finally getting to meet some lovely people previously known only in virtual world, an impressive quantity of Korean BBQ, and many, many bits of hilarity, including a spectacular outdoor Couples Theater performance on the other side of the glass at The Cheesecake Factory. Good times.
I came home with a scratchy throat that I originally chalked up to laughing too much on Sunday night, but it seems to be ebbing away as the day wears on. It was probably destined I'd get sick as soon as I told Alice and Alaya–during a conversation about Contagion, natch–that I never get sick at conventions because I compulsively wash my hands and don't touch anything in a communal bowl. Note to self: Refrain from tempting the germs of fate.
Now it's back to work on many things.
*You know, where the murder has taken place.