The Rest of My Yaoi-Con

[mishalak]

If there is one thing I do really well it is bitterness. Well there are actually a fair number of things that I do very well, daydreaming among them, but that's not the point of this. The point of this is for me to snark and whinge about my convention experience.

Where was I? Oh yes, upon arriving at Yaoi-Con I successfully dropped off my excessive number of bags in the room at the Westin Hotel. Things were looking up after having wounded myself carrying so many clothes and other less useful items all the way out to the airport via public transit. Over at the nearby Clarion Hotel I got my convention badge and the wrist bracelet thing that I had to wear at all times. And I do mean all times just to make sure that we were the same person who presented ID to prove we were over 18 to attend the convention. So I had an orange plastic wristband to wear for the next two days and the change of what was left of Friday at about four in the afternoon.

Then I wandered about and considered volunteering. Which I did not. I did call one of the two people I already know who would also be attending the convention; they would not be there for a while yet due to work. Going back to the hotel room I ran into my roommate J___. Trying to be the good sort I asked how much I owed him for the room, $200. Now right here, this is the point where I should have said something along the lines of, "WTF, I'm only staying three days." But he had the room for four days and like a complete sap I gave him the money right then and there. Dumb, dumb, dumb. I should have at least kept half as leverage.

So now bereft of most of the cash I brought for the convention I checked out the fan's ally where the various "We're not dealers" Dealers were starting to put out there wears. I did things of that nature and bothering other friends via phone until it was time for opening ceremonies.

The opening ceremony was not unlike a pep or political rally. There were way too enthusiastic young people squealing about things, bad sound systems made worse by people with the wrong voice register, and stupid juveniles endlessly making smart ass comments that were did not even clever taking away any possible chance that I might hear what the big important man was saying. Not that it was terribly important that I hear him as he appeared to be making the same nearly meaningless thanking and we're so great noises that politicians and school principles make. But it was the only game in town so I stuck around through the PowerPoint montage to prior year's conventions and the drawing of prizes. If I had known that I did not need to be present to win I would not have stuck around. I didn't, of course, the odds were astronomically against it and a sourpuss like me would not have appreciated it for long even had I won. Just to be utterly realistic.

The evening improved once K__ and A___ showed up. They were kind enough to share alcohol with me and two of their friends. And I got to watch all of the evil goodness of Making Fiends again. That was fun. If the weekend could have been more of that sort of thing, with dare I hope, new people even I would have been one happy camper. I think you see where this forshawdowing is going though. I went to bed and discovered that J__ also snored slightly louder than most people carry on a heated conversation. In the darkness I wondered if I would get caught if I practiced my smothering technique on him.

Fin Friday.

Saturday I woke up with a terrible headache that turned out not to be an actual hangover. Or if it was it was more persistent than any hangover I have ever had as it did not go away for the next day and a half despite doing all the right things. Eating decent food, drinking lots of water, trying to not think about it, etc...

I did try to have fun. I really did. I even showed some vim and fannish enthusiasm when I discovered my favorite artist, Kirko Moth, was at the convention. I went to panels. I tried to make friends with cute boys and non-creapy girls. And young women with no boundaries groped me a few times. That was new. I suppose it was worse for some of the truly good-looking men. Even if they didn't have my over the top change of clothing every four hours thing they did have things I never have had, like flawless skin. I was never that good looking, especially not when I was just 22, and the only thing that kept them from being Stepford scary were little bad habits showing through.

I got more money and without paying a fee over by a mall on a trip outside the bounds of the hotels with K__ and A__. That also netted me the lipbalm that I forgot. I also managed to leave the socks I laid out on my bed in my lodgings. But I didn't see any deals on socks so I made due with the ones I wore down on Friday for the rest of the con. I got to try durian and lychee ice cream, separately, but that was also not a convention function. Seeing a pattern here? I was and I got all depressed and went to bed very early, just half past eight. I slept being repeatedly disturbed by the rotund J___ when he went to bed. I am told I missed a crowded and exciting auction that was better than most drag shows, since I hate drag shows I do not think I missed much.

So long Saturday

Except for having (foolishly) bid upon an artshow item by Kirko Moth I would have left that morning. As it was I stuck around through the end of the art auction to collect my art and pay up rather than being an ass and just skipping out. To kill time I attended a few more panels and went swimming. The latter really made me feel better, though it didn't actually relieve the headache I woke up with the day before.

This was also to be the day that I discovered that L__, the roommate I did not actually see almost any of for the weekend had rented a table. To sell her very own fan produced slash Dragon Ball Z comic. And it all came together. I had seen her art before the convention online; I had wanted to let her down as an anonymous person that her art was not actually that good. And here I was seeing her doing her damnedest to sell it. I did not say anything because here was a person who was going to have a worse convention than me, plus I had not actually done anything when it would do any good like the month before when I saw her art on an online forum. It was like seeing a train wreak in motion and not having warned the engineer. What could I say? I didn't say anything because it was far too late and when not alone with my keyboard I am actually rather a coward, plus I am not good at giving comfort. She did not sell anything and she was close to tears at one point. And I was too far down in self pitty land myself for me to do much of anything for her. Poor girl.

By the time I got my art it was basically all over so I helped out for a while with clean up before getting my stuff packed and heading home. It was not the worst convention experience I have had, but I am not going back. Hell no. If I want to burn money and lust after men hotter than myself I can just go to any bar less than 200 meters from where I work and do that. And there won't be 300 annoying fangirls there at the same time. Oh I could try to improve my experience by controlling things better, like renting my own damn room and demanding non-snoring roommates and all the rest, but that would be like trying to perk up a root canal with a lolly afterwards. Plus I am back on the idea that I should get out of San Francisco before it kills me.

All in all it was not my worst convention experience, but it was the most I have ever spent to have a bad experience so far.

Comments

[boywhocantsayno.livejournal.com]

I had wanted to let her down as an anonymous person that her art was not actually that good. And here I was seeing her doing her damnedest to sell it. I did not say anything because here was a person who was going to have a worse convention than me. It was like seeing a train wreak in motion and knowing the engineer who put the train on the wrong track. What could I say? I didn't say anything because it was far too late and when not alone with my keyboard I am actually rather a coward. Poor girl.

No, you're not a coward - you're actually a thoughtful person who can't bring himself to crush the dreams of someone who actually hasn't done anything to you to deserve it, other than being perhaps not up to your artistic standard.

If I want to burn money and lust after men hotter than myself I can just go to any bar less than 200 meters from where I work and do that.

There are men hotter than you? ;)

(Sorry, but this is the second or third post in which you've suggested that you think you're unattractive, and I won't have it. That's my schtick. :P )

I'm sorry you didn't have a good time. To my way of thinking, it sounds like the con was a crashing failure, though I admit I've only read a couple of points of view.

You need to come to a con up here. We'll show you a good time. :)

[johny--b.livejournal.com]

The auction was pretty good, though I left when Daunte got on stage. I hit the BART for the last train to the city.

[mishalak.livejournal.com]

What, you have a way for me to be something other than a bitter sarcastic queer who hates most things? See the trouble with me trying to go out and have fun is I'm still there. Now that would be interesting SF.

[mishalak.livejournal.com]

No, you're not a coward - you're actually a thoughtful person who can't bring himself to crush the dreams of someone who actually hasn't done anything to you to deserve it, other than being perhaps not up to your artistic standard.

Or pretty much anyone else. She did not sell anything and she was close to tears at one point. And I was too far down in self pitty land myself for me to do much of anything for her.

[johny--b.livejournal.com]

Dang, Mishalak.
I thought I was the only one who felt like that most of the time, well, accept for leaving SF. It's pretty much the best place I've ever lived...not saying much.
I bought a few things...small things from people at cons, lately, because it was at least someone buying something from them...I dunno.
And I've gone to the Cafe, Metro, and such to see cute guys, and occasionally, they look back...did that sound jaded at all?

[mishalak.livejournal.com]

One more thing. It isn't kindness to tell a person he's good looking when he's not.

[boywhocantsayno.livejournal.com]

What, you have a way for me to be something other than a bitter sarcastic queer who hates most things?

Give me some time to work on it. :)

See the trouble with me trying to go out and have fun is I'm still there.

Maybe it's because it's almost 5 in the morning, but I'm having trouble wrapping my head around what you mean by this.

I'll apologize in advance, because I'm in Fairy Godfather mode tonight, and have been dispensing advice to an angsty 20-year-old... but it sounds to me like you're determined not to enjoy yourself because you've convinced yourself that you can't. I think you give up too quickly. You've made a couple of attempts and because they haven't resulted in immediate gratification, you've decided that no gratification is ever coming. Now, knock it off and enjoy the moment that you find yourself in.

[boywhocantsayno.livejournal.com]

*sigh*

Well, then...

I respectfully disagree with your self-assessment.

My comment about your stealing my schtick above was meant only semi-humourously; you see, I know exactly how you feel. I look at myself in the mirror and wonder what other people are seeing when they say I'm attractive. I look at the fact that I'm single and say, "if I'm so attractive, why doesn't anyone want to be with me?" It's a vicious circle. I can now (sometimes) accept the fact that others don't see what I perceive as flaws in my appearance. You, my friend, need to do the same thing. I think you're quite handsome. Even, dare I say it, cute. :)

[jcfiala.livejournal.com]

Well, I don't think you look bad myself. Ah, well.

I'm sorry you didn't enjoy yourself at the convention, and I hope your headache's passed.

[mishalak.livejournal.com]

You know, you're exactly right. I just have not tried to take the advice of all the various people who have been telling me how to fix my life for the last fifteen years. Nope. I just gave up; it is a moral weakness on my part. I wanted instant gratification so I should have stuck with trying pills for another year or two. Or therapy for another two. Or just simply enjoy life rather than being determined to be miserable. The problem is that I simply don't make enough of an effort.

[bovil.livejournal.com]

And young women with no boundaries groped me a few times. That was new. I suppose it was worse for some of the truly good-looking men.

Not really a surprise to me. You're squarely in these girls' idea of "hot."

You're tall, thin, smooth-skinned, have glasses (yeah, there's something of a fetishization of glasses in shoujo manga and yaoi) and good hair.

There's only two things missing to put you dead center in their sights. If you were Asian and barely 18 you would be the perfect live-action anime boy.

[mishalak.livejournal.com]

You left out that in anime terms I am too hairy. Also you are wrong, I am not nearly as thin or smooth skinned as a number of guys I saw there. I do not know how they manage to have less acne than me when they are younger than I am.

[boywhocantsayno.livejournal.com]

In retrospect, I was rather insensitive in my comment, wasn't I? I apologize. I can only blame the fact that, as I had forewarned you, it was 5 in the morning and I'd spent two or three hours counselling an angsty 20-year-old about his boyfriend problems earlier in the evening. Obviously when I tried to shift mental gears to address your post, I stripped them.

I still think, however, that you don't give yourself enough credit. I find your posts interesting and intelligent, the one time we actually met I enjoyed our limited interaction, and I think you're attractive. That's my opinion. You can disagree if you like, but I won't back down from it.

[mishalak.livejournal.com]

Okay maybe we should date. After all I could marry you and get Canadian citizenship now. <grin>

[boywhocantsayno.livejournal.com]

Well, after the 2004 elections I was advertising myself as a "Canadian war bride" for any gay American men who wanted to emigrate... ;)