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It sorta figures . . .

Every damn time I go away to a con, it takes me days to blog about it, because I get about halfway through, post what I have, and then I can't make myself post again until I'm ready to finish what I started.

So anyway. Saturday at Chattacon was sort of my spa day. One of the guests at Sean's wrestling party (in fact, one of the people who originally suggested the idea to him) was a fellow who goes by Torgo The Destroyer, according to his con badge. He's also a massage therapist and when he comes to Chattacon, he sets up his table in his room and offers massages for tips, by appointment. He'd done it two years ago (he missed last year) so as soon as I saw him at the party, I promptly set an appointment for Saturday afternoon.

So Saturday morning, I got up, did my morning pages and nabbed some brunch at the hotel buffet. I met up with Halloween John and his friend (whose name, alas, I cannot recall) and we had a nice chat about cheesy movies and horror stories. Halloween John has a tradition of telling stories around the campfire each Halloween--the stories have to be completely new and completely original, so each year he has to come up with another story. (He'd really like to take all the stories that he and his compatriots have come up with and publish them somehow, but he's not even sure where to start in terms of finding a publisher who would be interested in that sort of thing.)

I returned to my room, took a shower and went through a few razors to make my legs presentable for my massage that afternoon. (I couldn't bear the thought of exposing them in the state they were, since I tend to neglect shaving when I'm wearing pants all the time.)

Sean, Rozana and the twins were headed to the Unclaimed Baggage Center for a day trip. One of these days I will actually make it there, but this time was not an option. Instead I did a little work on my novel and then made my way to the room of Torgo The Destroyer for a hot stone massage. Unfortunately, the stones weren't quite hot enough, so instead I got a regular massage and a raincheck for later in the day for the hot stone portion of the program. I still tipped generously, because, dude, massage.

So I trundled back to the room and had a nice soak in the jacuzzi tub. Oh, did I not mention the tub? The tub in the suite that Sean uses for the party is a whirlpool tub--it's become one of the highlights of Chattacon for me. Rozana and I have to stagger our times to use it, but since Rozana was off on the Unclaimed Baggage daytrip, the bathroom was MINE ALL MINE MUAHAHAHA. So I poured myself a Bailey's on the rocks from the bar that was still set up and had a nice hot soak.

By about that point, all I really wanted to do was take a nap. So I took one.

Then it was time to head back to Torgo's for the hot stone massage. And let me just say, those stones were damn good and hot by the time I returned. I yelped a bit when he put them on, but apparently my body sucked the heat out of them so quickly that they were nearly cool to the touch by the time he took them off.

I went back to the room to find Sean, Rozana and the twins had returned and were talking about going to dinner at a rib place called Sticky Fingers. I'd already snarfed a slice of leftover pizza, but I went along anyway. It ended up being a ginormous crowd of people that I can't even contemplate naming in entirety (except to mention that one of them, Trish, was celebrating a birthday.) We took the free shuttle bus that runs through Chattanooga and managed to find one that (a) held all of us and (b) had a driver with a sense of humor.

It took a while for Sticky Fingers to accommodate our entire party, but eventually a long row of tables and chairs was set up and we all managed to find a seat. I had a small cup of Brunswick Stew (the pizza had pretty much killed my appetite) and chatted about all kinds of stuff with the folks who were within earshot.

We took the shuttle bus back and not only was the bus again able to hold all of us, we got the same driver with the sense of humor.

I guess there might have been some other room parties, but I never actually made it to any of them. I was a little too relaxed, I suppose, so I just hung in Sean's room, drank what was left of the booze (well, not ALL of it, mind you, but you know what I mean) and hung out with the inner circle of Sean's friends who are allowed to show up on Saturday night and avail themselves of the bar while it's still set up.

I crashed out relatively early (1 AM or so, I think) and slept pretty soundly up until the loud-ass people in the hot tub in the middle of the courtyard of the hotel building woke me up around 8:30. I tried to bear with it for a while and finally threw on my coat, stomped out via the patio door and came up to the hot tub.

"Um, hi," I said, "Some of us have really long drives home and we'd like to get as much rest as we can before we hit the road, m'kay?"

To their credit, the loudest and drunkest of them was the most apologetic (she said something like "Um, the nice lady says we need to shut the fuck up" to the other three) and they simmered down and eventually fell silent (maybe security showed up then; I'm not sure really.)

I dozed a bit more, got up, wrote, grabbed breakfast at the consuite and then went back to the room to help with the breakdown and packing up of the party. It takes a bit of doing. By the time they were pretty much finished, I went to the dealer's room to find half the place already broken down. I did manage to grab three paperbacks, which I then carted to the consuite and put in a donation box of things to be sent to soldiers on duty in Iraq. And then I figured, heck with it, I've done everything I can think that I came for, I'll just go home.

So I did. Plugged in Marvin the iPod and hit the highway.

I got home, took a nap and got up just as Sean texted me to let me know that they'd arrived and they'd be headed down to The Vortex as soon as they unloaded. "Good," I thought, "That'll give me time to get my Sunday grocery run in."

I got as far as Whole Foods and got the message that they were unloaded and on the way down. D'oh! I grabbed my breakfast ingredients in haste, rushed home and headed on down to Little Five Points so I could witness the twins each having a Double Coronary Bypass. No, wait, that came out wrong. So I could witness them indulging in a hamburger called the Double Coronary Bypass--a Vortex burger with cheese, bacon, a fried egg and two grilled cheese sandwiches as the bun. No, I'm not making that up.

So we indulged in much Vortex hamburgeriness and assessed the weekend (a good time was had by all, yes indeed.) At last, it came time for the twins and their friend Marvin (not to be confused with my iPod of the same time) to head the rest of the way down to Florida where they live.

Sean, Rozana and I stopped by the parents' house to see if we could see puppetmaker40 and family before they departed, but we ended up missing them by half an hour.

I made my way home and slept pretty soundly. The end.



Today I took pleasure in a glass of red wine.

Today I learned that three deep breaths can help squash the urge to surf the internet when you know you have better things to do.