But we're too noisy, and they catch us. While one of them is moving the RV, I say that I need to go get a drink of water before they stuff us in the boot, and they say okay but I'd better not run away this year, and I assure them that I won't. And so I run away and hide on somebody's big 24 foot boat like Rob Corddry has in "Way Way Back" except the brake isn't set and so it rolls across the parking lot and crashes into somebody else's boat. He's furious and he beats the crap out of me.
I manage to get away, but I need chocolate after that beating and so I go to a little dingy combination dance studio/Mexican convenience store. They have a chocolate chip cookie but I can't remember the Spanish word for cookie, and then I spot a Snickers bar tucked away in a hole and everybody knows El Snickers. But it's an ice cream bar, but it'll have to do.
And then I remember that I'm late for AmberCon NorthWest, and if I don't show up then I'll forfeit my registration, so I eat the icecream bar as I run to the campus where it's being held this year. I show up just in time for John Nienart's game, in a long tiered classroom full of people. We're vampires or werewolves pulling a heist caper. ACNW is a cooking and arts seminar, so when Trista sees me and hugs me she gets clay/blueberry compote/whatever all over me from hugging me and wants to know why I haven't written. And I did, but I sent the postcards to Ellie Deyneka's house where she'd be staying later that week because I forgot Florence Turnour's address where she's staying now. And when I get back from being hugged and scolded, Kelly Marie Gallagher has stolen my seat, so I grab my clipboard and climb over the two or three dozen people between me and the next empty seat. And I can't see or hear the roleplaying. *sigh*.
And then I wake up.
And facebook puts all the links for the people I've tagged two inches lower on the page than where the names are, and has disabled the 'Post' button, and reloading the page and closing it and reopening it and logging out and back in don't fix it. Only it's not a nightmare, it's real life, so I can't just wake up. So I post it on Dreamwidth and figure that if people want to see their names in print then they'll have to actually read Dreamwidth, or Livejournal, or my Facebook feed and hope that Facebook lets them see my post even though I haven't paid them for preferential positioning.
This entry was originally posted at http://cyrano.dreamwidth.org/1142817.htm