I spent Saturday and Sunday down with Richard’s family – including his aunt and uncle and cousins this time – for a combination three-birthday-baptism celebration. There was a tiny black furball to watch spaz all over the room as we played Yahtzee and Richard and his sister proved that apparently it is their family’s game (in other words, they kicked our sorry behinds). There was a barbeque complete with backyard cat assistant to the chef, and a tour of his aunt’s house where I was told I wasn’t allowed to take home the gorgeous painting of the white cat that hung in the living room (although I’ll bet if Richard had just distracted his aunt, I could have snuck that thing out into my car and no one would have noticed!). And along with the belly-dancing aunt and topless pregnant bridesmaids, now the wedding includes a parade of circus animals as the processional to the church. Although I did note that if tigers were involved, I had no problem with it. Heh.

We moved at work again, and it appears that this move is relatively permanent – or at least we’ll be here longer than we were at the last place. This time we’re in a converted warehouse in the middle of nowhere, with two resident roosters. We all have new phone numbers and people are scattered all over the floor. And the facilities are actually quite nice inside. Hey, I’m just excited that I finally have drawers and shelves to store things in. Big change from the last site.

Monday was a bit hectic as we dealt with network and air conditioning issues. First, they decided that since most of the cubes in our area have three people, they had to remove the middle shelves. This makes sense, except that they removed *all* of the shelves, and some of the cubes only have two people and already had stuff on the shelves. So now my cubemate and I have little sticky notes on the rest of the drawers and file cabinets reading ‘Don’t Take!’. Then they were getting complaints because people didn’t have network connections. These were coming, specifically, from the cubes with three people, which had only been slated for two network connections. One would think that one could jump to the rather obvious conclusion that if there were three computers sitting on the desk, complete with three desk chairs and three annoyed developers sitting in them, that one might want to consider putting in a third network connection. Obviously, one would be wrong. Well, at least for the first day. It’s gotten better since. I think. Of course, since I’ve been knee-deep in meetings all week so far, I just may not be seeing the issues as much. Although I have noticed that the temperature has stabilized in between common areas and meeting rooms – compared to the stuffiness of the first day, this is a definite improvement as well.

There is nothing quite like viewing one’s body, clad in figure-hugging spandex, in front of a three-way mirror under fluorescent lighting. What fun. Such enjoyment. Did I mention the fun? In other words, I went swimsuit shopping today. It’s one of the least favorite things for a woman to do – unless of course that woman happens to have the body of Twiggy and avoids looking in mirrors at all costs. We can spout our feminist ideals and our refusal to judge by the scale all we want, but when it comes to swimsuits, all of that goes out the window. With most other clothing, you can hide those extra bulges and bumps. Spandex is not so forgiving. I’d be willing to bet that if you put her into a swimsuit, even the most enlightened and hard-core feminist will still be surreptitiously checking out the size of her own rear end in the next available mirror.

In the room next to me was another woman trying on swimwear. I could tell by the muttered swears under her breath, and by the way she snapped at her significant other as she called him to the door to view her in suit after suit. Walking out, I gave the poor man a sympathetic smile, but I’m not sure he saw me. His eyes were pained. He was not having fun. Ah, true love. Richard volunteered to go with me but I was too nice. Swimsuit shopping is a solitary sport, in my opinion. Even going with female friends is a bad idea, unless all those friends happen to be in worse shape than yourself, because when clad in spandex, you just can’t help comparing yourself to the other spandex-clad figures around you. Ha ha, my brain shouts triumphantly! Look, she’s got a bigger tummy than you! It’s bad. Evil. And exactly why I refuse to do this with anyone but myself.

It’s been years since I’ve done this too. All that swimming in high school and college sort of gave me an aversion to chlorinated water. As much as I loved doing synchronized swimming, the thought of jumping into water now just isn’t quite so appealing as it used to be. Although I really shouldn’t feel that way – much like the Ugly Duckling when he discovered he was really a swan, the only place I’ve ever been remotely graceful is in the water. On land I’m more likely to run into walls and furniture (they jump out at me. Really they do!). In the water I am actually coordinated.

I did find a suit to buy. I was extremely tempted by a solid black one which, while it made me look like a fireplug with limbs, at least had the redeeming feature of being high enough in the back to cover the tattoo. The reason this feature was redeeming is because this weekend I’m off to spend time with my fiance’s family, and in another week or two I’m off to a family reunion – and as of yet, I don’t think any of them (his family or my extended relatives) know about the two extra cats on my back. But I passed on the fireplug suit in favor of one that, while low enough in the back to let the cat heads peer through, at least gives me the illusion of a figure, and the cute little attached skirt hides my rear. What more can I ask for than that?.

I’ve felt sluggish all day today. Back to work after being away from the office for so long – and it was hard to feel motivated. Of course, as I should have expected, I was greeted with another required reorganization of the project plan involving one of Microsoft’s programs that I am convinced was written not as an office tool, but as an instrument of torture. This would be Microsoft Project. It’s a deceptive little program. It makes you *think* you’re going to produce something useful, but the only way so far I’ve managed to get anything remotely productive out of it is to manipulate task assignments manually. Hundreds of them. Ugh.

Part of my sleep-deprived grouchiness stemmed from the fact that last night was an extremely late one. It was cold and windy – unusual weather for the Fourth of July in this area of California. We decided to make use of the Plot of Weeds and go out there to watch the fireworks, since it’s got a great view of the park where they do the show every year. Turned out it was a fantastic view, and I discovered another reason why it really is a small world. The owner of the boat parked to one side on my lot turned out to be the husband of an old synchronized swim team member from college, and so I found out that our neighbors on one side are his parents. I find it funny that despite the number of times we’ve been out to the lot at various times of day, we’ve yet to meet any of our neighbors-to-be, yet I know their children.

We had another gathering of the families – this time to watch the fireworks together. I think we spent most of the evening laughing. I take that as a good sign. Although I’m not so sure having the police show up as we were just finishing up the fireworks we’d been setting off outside my parents’ house was such a good sign, but it was humorous anyway. Luckily the policeman only issued a gentle warning that it was a bit late to be out being so noisy – although whether it was the fireworks we were setting off or the loud gales of laughter as a certain male member of the group (whose name I won’t mention because of course it’s not nice to poke fun at your fiance) demonstrated that even when provided with matches, lighters, and blowtorches, he just couldn’t get those pesky fireworks to light.

And on a completely unrelated note, my feline addiction provided an interesting side effect today. One of the guys in our group came up with a plastic sack of greens. Apparently they’ve got catnip taking over the yard, and for some odd reason he thought of me. Heh. Probably because he was there when I got into a joking dogs vs. cats discussion with a few of the others, I suppose. Even so, it was awfully sweet of him to think about that and the cats are, I’m sure, properly grateful. I set the bag down on the dining room table when I got home for just a few moments and it was swarmed. I rescued the sack, withdrew one large sprig, and then tossed out pieces and watched the furry horde attack. I even broke off a few fresh leaves, crushed them to get the scent out, and then contorted myself into a pretzel to stuff it back up on the shelf deep under the kitchen sink where Zuchinni-the-invisible-cat was lurking. I only knew he was there because my fingers touched fur. Later on, I checked back and the catnip was gone – and so was he. I can only hope that he enjoyed it, as I haven’t seen more than a brief glimpse of him since I returned from my travels.

If you’re the type that enjoys cleavage on display, well, there has certainly been a lot of it here at DragonCon….and yesterday Ivymoon and I decided that we should add to the mix. We headed out to the Starbucks we’d found the day before (it was real coffee and the food didn’t involve a buffet – a definite change from the way I’d been eating this past week with all these trips) – and got lots of stares as we sauntered into the coffee shop wearing full Renaissance garb. Of course, the businesses around the hotel are probably a bit jaded by now, since they’ve been dealing with people dressed in all manner of costume the past three days already. But the tourists just don’t know what to make of all us weird sci-fi/fantasy types.

High Reaches Weyr (from PernMUSH) had a lunch gather. The very patient and understanding waiter who helped us also took a pile of seven cameras and snapped group pictures as we posed. It was a good group – we had the weyrleader and the weyrwoman, the head steward, a few wing leaders and wing seconds, and the token resident (that would be me). We then returned to the Con just in time to bomb at Weyrfeud (a version of Family Feud based on the Pern books by Anne McCafferey). It might have helped if those of us pulled in at the last minute (I would be one of those) had been more prepared – it’s been at least 2 years since I’ve read any of the books! We all separated for a few more sessions, and then gathered again in the hallway to accumulate a small crowd and head off to dinner…and do a bit of recruiting on the way. A very nice woman just happened to be sitting there, and despite the fact that she’s involved in fan-fic and not online Pern gaming, we invited her to join us at dinner, where this motley assortment of Pern nerds were loud, boisterous, and silly, swapping stories of Pern-related RP, and egging on the two of us who happen to play green riders and who were sporting ‘proddy greenrider’ nametags at the dinner table.

It’s odd to meet people I’ve only known online. I’ve done it a number of times, but it always feels strange. This little group of strangers who’ve only spoken in text all of a sudden hanging out as if we’ve known each other for years. I know that there are those who think that the internet is a bad, bad thing, but I can only look at how it makes the world a smaller, friendlier place – despite the fact that those of us who lurk online might be a bit odd (okay, ‘little’ might be an understatement).

Today was a bit slower paced – probably more to do with the fact that by this point sleep deprivation had started to hit than anything else. There weren’t as many panel discussions I wanted to see, so a quartet of us headed off to the art show and then back to the dealers. There’d been this gargoyle I was sooooo tempted by, see, and well…he just had to come home with me for Richard. He turned out to be a heavy gargoyle. He wasn’t quite so heavy at first, but considering we’d checked out bright and early and then I was carting around my backpack the rest of the day – which was already heavy due to the presence of my laptop – the addition of a carved stone figurine didn’t help matters much.

At lunch everyone sat around and stared blearily at their food. I don’t think any amount of caffeine would have revived us. This convention has been non-stop all hours of day and night. Even after the sessions were done, there were drum circles by the pool and a dance that didn’t even start until midnight. Not that I attended either – drum circles just aren’t my thing, and usually by midnight there was a small crowd in Ivy’s and my hotel room, taking turns logging into email on my laptop, and staying up til the wee hours chatting. But by the time Ivy and I got to the airport, we were just about falling asleep on our feet.

I need a vacation to recover from this vacation. I have a sneaky feeling it’s going to take me a few days to catch up on all the sleep I missed during the past week and a half on the road. But despite that, I definitely want to go next year! I figure Richard and I will wake up in the mornings, wave goodbye as we head to our respective nerdiness, and then meet back up for dinner along with Ivy and whomever she decides to bring with her. And next time Ivy and I have decided we need to figure out how to ship swords back. The dagger fit nicely in my suitcase, but I’m not so sure I’d be able to get a sword in there. Hmm…

As if Las Vegas and Tahoe weren’t enough, Thursday I hopped on a plane bound for Atlanta for a short vacation. Neither Ivymoon or I had ever been to a Science Fiction / Fantasy convention before, so we figured it was about time. Despite nearly an hour delay for the plane, we managed to get there without incident, and then discovered the kindness (or perhaps I should call it exasperation) of strangers. We knew that there was some method of getting to the hotel where DragonCon was being held, and that it involved the regional transit system in the city, but we had no idea what stop to take. Apparently we were talking about this little problem a bit loudly (no big surprise when it comes to Ivy and I) so half a dozen people turned around to ask us where we were going and then to let us know which stop to take – even to the point of hollering ‘This is your stop!’ when ours came up. We thanked them, a bit sheepishly, and staggered off the train, laden with suitcases.

That night we didn’t do much except check in and register. Checking in was interesting. Prior to flying out there, I decided it might be a good idea to call and confirm. Good thing I did, since they had me down as checking in the day before….and even though we cleared that up over the phone, when I arrived, they had me down twice. So who knows what happened. At least we got a room, although it overlooked the lobby (the hotel is set up so all rooms overlook the ‘atrium’ lobby) so we got to hear the dim noise of the con, and the clamor of people getting on and off the elevators all night. I got my first taste of what it would be like when we walked into the hotel and I watched a small contingent of Storm Troopers walk by, followed by an assortment of elves, Star Trek crew members, and of course the swarms of goth types clad in black vinyl, and not much of it.

This morning, Ivy and I hit the vendors room. An entire conference hall stuffed full of tables and tables of things for sci-fi nerds of all kinds! We drooled over the weaponry (Well, I have been looking for a dagger, and there was one there that was perfect…and it would have been a shame to leave it there…), and picked out some gorgeous dragon prints, although for the first time since I left home, I had to think about someone else’s taste for artwork. I stared at one particular print of a dragon and her clutch for a long time. *I* thought it was wonderful, but would Richard? Finally I took a deep breath and bought it – he’s just as big a dragon fan as I am so I figured it was worth the risk.

We attended a number of sessions – some better than others. The Women in Gaming session was probably one of the best. It was an open discussion on the participation of women in the gaming world – computer, table-top, and live-action. The discussions were open and spirited, and it was refreshing to see that nearly half the participants in the room were men. The general consensus was that while we’ve come a long way, we still have far to go in how women in the gaming world are treated, or marketed to. As one woman put it (and the comment drew applause) – “I don’t mind if they use sex to sell the game. I’d just like it if they used sex to sell to *me*!”

There’s a large contingent of us from PernMUSH here, especially from High Reaches weyr, so we gathered up as many as we could and headed off to the Hard Rock café for dinner. Seven grown adults sitting around a table singing along with all the flashback 80’s tunes at the top of our lungs and being rather silly. It didn’t help that we had just come from the Dragon Mating talk at the Pern room. Perhaps that’s why one of the others and I began plotting being proddy…

We were standing on the deck of a boat, in the middle of Lake Tahoe. The woman next to me pulled out her camera and then turned to me with a wry smile and noted that if she actually took pictures of the gorgeous view, noone would listen to her when she complained about having to go on a business trip. Considering that I was there for the same business trip, I had to agree. Compared to the mandatory trip to Las Vegas last week, this mandatory trip to Tahoe was a world different. There were meetings to sit through, to be sure, but that’s where the similarities end.

This trip was rather hastily planned, and I hadn’t realized quite how involved I would be in the whole thing til Friday, when the Development head called me at the conference in Las Vegas to let me know that by the way, I was going to be introducing my team, and also facilitating a meeting. I didn’t find out what the meeting was about or what I needed to do to facilitate until about ten minutes prior to the meeting, but it turned out fine. Then afterwards, I found out that I was elected to skim through all the flow charts on our development process – in front of the whole crowd. Did I mention that I really am not that crazy about public speaking? I have a tendency to talk fast normally, but when I’m nervous (and talking in front of a huge crowd does that to me) I speak even faster. I had a number of people come up after the presentations and tell me how much they enjoyed it…and how amazed they were at how fast I was capable of talking. Oof. I try to slow down – really I do.

This trip to Tahoe wasn’t nearly as slick or fancy as the meeting in Las Vegas, but it was much better. The meetings were relaxed, yet we actually got a lot of work done. Yet despite that, there was still enough time set aside for everyone to have fun and enjoy the area. My company could learn some lessons from them.

I’m here in Las Vegas (also known as “Come-See-How-Much-Money-You-Can-Lose-Ville”) for a mandatory conference. Three days of presentations that all say the same thing. Shudder.

Call it a failing of mine, but I just don’t understand the point in this sort of thing. For every conference like this I have been forc…um…lucky enough to attend, they gather everyone together in a beautiful location at some truly fabulous hotel, and then plan 12-15 hours per day of meetings guarenteed to bore you to tears…but yet it’s somehow supposed to be fun? Relaxing? Why waste all this money? Why not rent the nearest high school gym and stuff all 3000 of us in there. It would accomplish the same thing and save tons of cash to boot. What’s the point of taking us to some lovely vacation spot if we don’t get the chance to do more than just comment on the scenery as we walk past, heading for yet another mandatory meeting?

The problem is, I just don’t have the right mindset for this type of thing. I don’t drink alcoholic beverages and I truly hate schmoozing, or going to cocktail parties where I know no one. It’s a hold-over from the days when I used to be shy, I suppose, but meandering around buffet tables trying to make small talk with thousands of strangers, most of whom are doing their best to drink their jet lag into oblivion, is not my idea of fun. Nor is sitting in long drawn-out marketing presentations, especially when they have little if anything to do with what I work with on a day-to-day basis.

Part of my discontent at being here stems from the fact that my little corner of the company is barely mentioned. Imagine going to a three-day long event and being subjected to painfully dull presentation after presentation on something that you never deal with and could care less about. I’m still trying to recover from being part of the little fish that got swallowed by the big fish over six months ago, and now we’re being required to go to the big fish’s events. It would be nice if maybe, just maybe, they tried to make it remotely interesting or informative or even *useful* to those of us who still deal with the little fish’s technology, but that’s not the case. New products and services are discussed and my little group gets an aside of ‘oh, and you’ll get that later. Maybe. Someday. If you’re really lucky.’

Sigh. I suppose if I enjoyed gambling this might be more tolerable, but I have failed to learn to like that particular vice either. Last night I got $20 worth of quarters and spent about 45 minutes feeding them into a slot machine. I had no glorious dreams of winning. My plan was to keep feeding in coins until they were all gone. There. I went to Las Vegas and gambled. My duty is complete.

One more day left. I’m leaving early – and had to get special permission to do so because this literally was mandatory (and trust me, I tried my hardest to get out of it too!) because I’ve got things planned on Sunday. And I suppose there have been one or two perks out of the whole deal. I got two days off from work. As is typical of technology firms, they’ve given us lots of neat little gadgets and other goodies, and of course the required shirt. If you work for technology companies long enough you will acquire an entire wardrobe from the waist up. Seriously. Also, I got to meet my new manager, which gave me a chance to let her know that I really want to phase out of consulting. Actually, that went surprisingly well. She said she’d keep her eyes open for opportunities for me – and it’s not going to be for another six months or so anyway. At the very least, I’ve started that particular ball rolling, and it won’t come as a nasty shock to the managers when I start actively pursuing it come the end of this year (fingers crossed just in case though).

One more day until I can fly home. And only about 12 more hours of Death by Power Point. I can make it. Somehow. Sob.

Given a choice of fast food restaurants, McDonalds comes last on my list. While I may be willing to swing through the drive-thru every once in a while for a drink or some fries, the actual burgers and sandwiches are just not high on my list of things I like to eat.

Yet once a year I make the pilgrimage to the golden arches for several weeks and grimly choke down McDonald’s food, all in the name of friendship. Beware of befriending vegetarians, in other words. Especially vegetarians who like beanie babies.

To be fair to my friend, I collect the cats too. But just the cats, and if that was all I was going for, I’d only have to eat one or two McDonald’s meals per year. But she also collects the dogs and the bears. And this year they have three cats, one dog, and four bears. Sigh. For the rest of the little critters I can get away with buying a bag of fries or a Happy Meal and then forking over the extra buck-fifty. But the bears require more. To get a bear, I must eat a value meal.

So I’ve been dutifully stopping by the McDonald’s on the way to work every morning in my search for the specific beanies I need. And then most evenings for the past week I’ve swung through both McDonalds’ in my hometown to see if they’ve got something new. My dream is to find three of the ones I need on one day. Sure it’d be a bad food overload, but at least then I’d be that much closer to being done for the year.

At least right now I’m halfway there. And I did luck out this morning since I was able to get two different beanies with the same meal.

The things I do for friends. Four down, four to go. And then I don’t have to go hear anything resembling a Big Mac for at least another year.

My mom sent me an email on Monday, mentioning that while the two of us slinging emails back and forth to each other might do just fine for planning a virtual wedding, there were things we needed to discuss and face to face might be a better option. She realizes how busy I’ve been lately – and it doesn’t help that she’s just as busy. But she had a point, so tonight after work I drove to my parents house and my mom and I talked.

She got me a wedding planner so the two of us pulled out our respective books and checked the list of things to do. I’ve been worried about numbers and the size of the church. She’s gone through this before with each of my sisters, so she’s got this wedding planning thing down pat. She had a list of questions. Did I have any ideas for color? Did I have any ideas about what I wanted to do about food? Did I want dancing? Heck, I was happy just to have narrowed down a month for the wedding. This other stuff is still in the ‘um…what?’ stage of my brain. But I need to think about it. People and places need to be reserved in the next several months.

We pulled out our calendars and scheduled one day a month to meet and do wedding stuff. We found it ironic that the first free weekend day the two of us have to meet isn’t until the end of July – we’re both that busy. We went to the church and figured out how many people could fit in the sanctuary. She brought a tape measure and we figured out how big the social hall is, so that we have a size to compare. We drove around town trying to think of other likely spots for the reception. Passed by barns and teased about having the reception in the middle of a hay field or something. Anything so long as the room is big enough. For a brief moment I babbled about maybe having the reception in the house that we’re building, but my mom thankfully brought me to my senses. That would be more hassle and stress than any of us have time for.

Despite our best intentions we realize that we’re going to have to break down and go to one or two of the local bridal malls. I firmly intend to avoid bridal fairs at all costs, but I’ve got to look at stuff *somewhere*. And on the way home I broke down and bought two bride magazines. I flipped through a few pages of advertisements before I went to bed. There are some UGLY wedding gowns out there. Really. Although I did get a lot of lovely ideas for bridesmaid dresses…assuming I really hated my bridesmaids. Who wears these things? Ick!

Saturday night I gathered in the Sacramento convention center with hundreds and hundreds of other Methodists for the ending of the annual conference. I’d never been to anything quite like this before, and I was glad to see familiar faces when we walked in. There was a small gathering from my parents’ church, and my older sister, her husband, and his parents were there too. Richard got to meet my sister’s in-laws, who are wonderfully sweet people, and who immediately starting to tease him, asking if he’d been warned about what sort of family he was marrying into.

I don’t know about all the others, but this little crowd was there for one particular reason that night. My mother was consecrated as a Diaconal minister in the Methodist church. She knelt before the bishop as he spoke the words, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever been more proud of her than I was at that moment. She has been working up to this for a number of years, unsure at times if she was doing the right thing, but sure at least that she had been called.

I’m not a religious person by any stretch of the imagination. I suppose I would classify as an agnostic. I believe that religion has a usefulness and a place, but I have a difficult time with the concept of one all-powerful supreme being. I accept that there are things that are unexplainable, and that there are forces greater than what is known at work. And I have a great deal of respect for people who are religious, like my mother, while still being open and tolerant. Right wing fanatics of any religion (although I’ll admit my main exposure to right-wing fanatics has been Christian) I have little respect for. Any inability to accept that there may be differing views on faith and religion, that there may be more than one ‘right’ way – that I find pathetic and sad. (As a side note, if you ever want to have a lot of fun with a right-wing fanatical Christian, ask them to prove the existance of God without using the Bible. They can’t do it. Go on! Try it! You’ll see.)

My mom is one of the most open and liberal ‘religious’ persons I know. Her particular calling is working as a chaplain in hospitals and hospice care, comforting the sick and dying, and their friends and family. It’s not a task I would ever want, or be able to do, but she seems to be made for it. If there is a God (or Goddess) then he/she guided my mom to the right path. Call it God, or spirituality, or simply overwhelming love, but whatever sent that calling, it was there Saturday night. In the hundreds of other Methodists who stood silently to support the candidates that they knew. In the words of the Bishop as he gave his farewell sermon. In our little group as we watched my mom. And yes, even in some who normally find it hard to believe. Like me.