Tuesday, September 03, 2002
Time for the dreadfully long post-Dragon*Con entry. At least I expect it to be dreadfully long. It may not be. My head's a bit of a boggy place right now, so we'll just have to see.
Where did I leave off on the Sunday night entry?
The Crüxshadows. As always, a fantastic show. I am in utter amazement of Rachel McDonnell's violin and keyboard work (not to mention her stage presence). These guys are simply the best goth/synth pop band out there today and you absolutely owe it to yourself to check out their new disc, Wishfire, at the Crüxshadows' website. And, if you can, catch a live show before they head back to Europe. Anyway, after the show, there was a very small gathering in my room, not the elaborate fête of years past because I was just too busy to make all the arrangements, but at least The Green Fairy was in attendence (along with a bottle of very fine mead contributed by Voltaire).
Monday afternoon, I awoke to discover that, while I slept, a power surge had so severely corrupted the hard drive of my iBook that the computer was incapable of even finding it. In nine years of owning Macs, nothing even remotely resembling this has happened to me. I've never even had a crash before. There are not words to express my panic and horror when the screen began displaying a big question mark on a gray field and nothing else at all. Jennifer immediately called Rogue (of the aforementioned Crüxshadows and a Mac guru) and whisked my stricken machine off to the band's room. In short order, Thryn whisked me off to the dealers' room in an attempt to keep me thinking about anything but the situation with the computer. As I'd said at my reading on Saturday, this iBook is practically the left side of my brain at this point. So, we spent hours walking about looking at Farscape stuff, knives, jewelry, Lovecraftiana, and such while Rogue worked his ass off trying to salvage my hard drive (with the help of former Bella Morte guitarist and Macintosh tech dude Bn Whitlow). About 4:30 p.m., I finally received word that there was hope and, miraculously, by 7 p.m., Rogue had saved just about everything on the iBook and had it up and running again. Turns out, I was at fault, not the iBook (maintaining my faith in Apple), as I'd made the mistake of leaving it plugged into an outlet without a surge protector, after having turned it off at about 5:30 a.m. So, needless to say, Monday was mostly pretty awful, with Rogue saving the day (and my ass). The band and my own entourage, the bunch of us starving, attended the after-con "Dead Dragon" party. And Rogue made me introduce myself to Lani Tupu, who was delightful and signed a Farscape trading card for me, almost making up for the long nightmare of the day.
Afterwards, we quickly packed and, with the help of various gothlings from Florida (thanks to Chris, Kat, and Jean-Paul) were headed back to Birmingham by about 11 p.m. Thryn and I fell asleep in the back of the van (fortunately, Jennifer did not fall asleep at the wheel). I'm not even sure what time we got home, I was so utterly wiped. But, all in all, and the iBook emergency of Monday notwithstanding, it was the best, most enjoyable, Dragon*Con I've ever attended. Oh, and thanks to Jhonen V. for all the cock (long story, please don't ask).
About all that's left is the matter of my abduction by agents of Nebari Prime, my subsequent (though temporary) transmutation, the MIBs, and all that followed. But maybe I'll leave that until the photographic evidence arrives.
Now I have to get back to work. I have a short story to write for Subterranean Press, an interview to finish for Cemetery Dance magazine, the manuscript of The Five of Cups to be edited (I haven't even read the thing since 1996), all the rewrites on Low Red Moon, all the packing and moving arrangements to be made for the relocation to Providence . . . I don't want to even think about what I might be forgetting. The "vacation" is over, kiddies. Back to school.
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