The Revenge Of The Nerd
You knew it was coming. I've been doing it every year in my old blog for the past 5 years. It happens every second weekend of November, but this year I feel compelled to get it over with a little more quickly; It's the season when Melissa starts getting nostalgic for Sci-Con again.
But this year I'm not going to recount the good times. The hijinks. The useless crap we bought. The Lovecraftian junk being sold at the Huckster Room. The swordfights in the hallways. The two strange men who came into the Holiday Inn wielding dirty socks, running through the lobby hitting us over the head with them before quickly departing and never returning. The colored smoke bombs S. and I used to throw into the elevators to send back to the lobby to open and pour green and blue smoke all over the first floor. The Coke machine's ride to the roof which ended up later in the pool, from said roof. Charlton Heston's hilarious reaction to S.'s boyfriend throwing the broken green glo-stick into said pool, after turning it an astonishing shade of plutonium bright enough to be seen from the moon.
Instead I just want to sit back and remember the weather. I want to remember the parking lot of the Holiday Inn at 3 in the morning, bundled in my heavy sweatshirt against the bracing November winter winds. I want to remember lying back on the hood of my car and looking up into the bright winter starry morning sky, remembering how silver the clouds looked as they passed. I want to linger on that moment because I can distinctly remember thinking, at that one frozen point in time, how happy I was to be alive right then and there. I'll never forget loving every bitter cold breath I took that burned my lungs and nostrils. I'll never forget how sensitive my skin felt, how even the brush of my curly hair across my forehead felt at that moment like the central point of the entire universe. I'll never forget the faded yet oddly comforting rhythms of the 80's music being played in the hotel ballroom during the Saturday night dance. I'll never, ever forget the sight of that electric sky.
And I'll never forget the smell of the doughy, wobbly middle-aged man in the Green Lantern body suit who staggered out of the dance into the parking lot to stop and vomit violently right next to my car. How I always miss Sci-Con this time of year.
But this year I'm not going to recount the good times. The hijinks. The useless crap we bought. The Lovecraftian junk being sold at the Huckster Room. The swordfights in the hallways. The two strange men who came into the Holiday Inn wielding dirty socks, running through the lobby hitting us over the head with them before quickly departing and never returning. The colored smoke bombs S. and I used to throw into the elevators to send back to the lobby to open and pour green and blue smoke all over the first floor. The Coke machine's ride to the roof which ended up later in the pool, from said roof. Charlton Heston's hilarious reaction to S.'s boyfriend throwing the broken green glo-stick into said pool, after turning it an astonishing shade of plutonium bright enough to be seen from the moon.
Instead I just want to sit back and remember the weather. I want to remember the parking lot of the Holiday Inn at 3 in the morning, bundled in my heavy sweatshirt against the bracing November winter winds. I want to remember lying back on the hood of my car and looking up into the bright winter starry morning sky, remembering how silver the clouds looked as they passed. I want to linger on that moment because I can distinctly remember thinking, at that one frozen point in time, how happy I was to be alive right then and there. I'll never forget loving every bitter cold breath I took that burned my lungs and nostrils. I'll never forget how sensitive my skin felt, how even the brush of my curly hair across my forehead felt at that moment like the central point of the entire universe. I'll never forget the faded yet oddly comforting rhythms of the 80's music being played in the hotel ballroom during the Saturday night dance. I'll never, ever forget the sight of that electric sky.
And I'll never forget the smell of the doughy, wobbly middle-aged man in the Green Lantern body suit who staggered out of the dance into the parking lot to stop and vomit violently right next to my car. How I always miss Sci-Con this time of year.
posted by Melissa at 2:16 PM
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