How to insure your last day at DragonCon will be memorable? Start the day off with a large orange juice and a large cafe mocha. Big mistake. I felt horrible the morning of the D*C goodbye. My hands were shaking, I felt queasy and very jittery.  All in all, I was in the correct state of mind for an hour of "Dino Rangers." Yeah, I had to work during that panel.  No offense to people who love that show but damn, I could feel my brain melting and dribbling out my ear during that hour. That show is horrible. And I watched Roswell, people.  Hey, have y'all noticed that now that Tom Hern got his teeth fixed he looks like the kid who played Michael on Roswell?  Both those kids had crazy hair too. And big heads. Huh, do you think I am developing some sort of type?  Mmmmmalienboys....

Whu, huh? Oh yeah. D*Con. So, the last event of the track was the Tribe Goodbye. I got to take pictures which is my favorite thing to do. But once again, another year goes by and I still don't have any pics of my own with Tribe guests. Part of that is because as a staff person, I am not supposed to ask for autographs or piccies until all the guests have had their shot. Traditionally we are asked to wait until the Dead Dog party for our requests. 

And what a fiasco does that turn out to be! Dead Dog is always on the last day of Con, sometime in the evening around dinnertime. Staff asks their favorite guests to the event and pictures are taken, jokes are told and everyone makes speeches. It's a very casual event but very much looked forward to. Now, dear readers, if you remember last year, staff was cruelly disappointed when our invited guests did not show. Turns out this was to be another year of dashed hopes.

I'm still not exactly sure what happened.  But apparently we were stood up in favor of new shoes and the Internet. It's like dating both a bad girlfriend and a bad boyfriend. Still, besides the fact that the morning's caffeine and sugar mix ensured that I would not eat a thing for 24 hours, I still had a good time at the dinner. I laughed and I even cried. Turns out that the elderly gent who sat at our table escaped New Orleans with just the clothes on his back.  Since he had a reservation for D*C anyway, he decided he'd rather come here then stay at the Superdome. He got up and made a small speech that was just lovely.

So I had a momentary lapse of mushiness. I quickly shook it off. CalZeph and I had the unenviable job of ascertaining just exactly what happened. Matt is all apologies and afterward, makes it up to us by plying us with alcohol. Really, men are just soooo predictable.  What was not predictable was Douglas Arthur coming up behind Kellygirl and practically dry humping her on the table. I guess there is something about the staff milkshake that brings all the boys to the yard because suddenly the men of Stargate Atlantis are at our table.

We did finally get our pictures or rather Kellygirl got my picture because I forgot my camera, remember? The staff comes up to our room to watch a movie but it turns out we can't rent a VCR after all. It is just as well as Kellygirl and I have to write thank you notes and this year we mean to have them delivered. Sure, this year the notes were written on notebook paper, but we figure that was better than the first year where we sent t-shirts to our interviewees in NZ and forgot to address the package properly.  Remember when I said I was ditzy?

As we approach the correct floor, we are a bit embarrassed to arrive at the same time Matt arrives to his room. We had meant to slip the notes under the door, giggle and run away.  That's the other thing we do, right? We stop and chat for awhile and swap Con stories and Con gossip. Let me tell you, getting to know the Con politics from the guest point of view is fascinating. 

Every year, I like to ask people what their Con experience is like from an identity politics p.o.v.  As an actor and a guest, Matt expressed bewilderment at his status and the power that came with it. Although I'm sure he was sincere, it is a bit puzzling he was so shocked by D*Con's "sex as currency" atmosphere. After all, he did spend his lunchtime at Hooter's. And his industry is one known for the casting couch.  But I can relate to being overwhelmed by the meat marketness of it all. Even if this year, I was proposition free. Not one lewd comment. Hee, don't worry, I don't plan to write an essay about it. Again. I'll leave that to Kellygirl. It wasn't my head under someone's invisible kilt!