Thursday, August 15, 2002

the nutshell

So I have yet to do the big update, but now the moment has passed. So I will summarize. Also, i can't upload photos cuz I don't have a usb cable so I kinda wanted to accompany the stories with the photos but fuggit.


WED
Arrived in Dallas. It was dumb hot. There was an Asian girl who looked peeved waiting for the shuttle. I saw that she had some AAJA convention material. I didn't say hello. I was almost done with my book, A Prayer for Owen Meany. She was headed to the Fairmont so i knew she was a conventioneer. She kept eyeing me. Remember her. I went to my alternative hotel, the luxurious Hampton Inn. There was a Wal Mart convention in town and I had the good fortune of sharing an elevator with some of the good people from Wal Mart. They sucked. Anyway, I relaxed for a bit and waited for the temperature to drop before venturing 6 blocks to the Fairmont. When I got there, I asked some nice looking Asian boy where the registration was. I was given a chilly response. Remember him. Later, I discovered that the registration booth closed. Oh well. Later, I saw my friend SB who i met at the 2000 convention in new york. He's a producer for Fox News somewhere in the Midwest. He had his trademark ponytail still so I knew it was him. He told me his name and i acted like I remembered and that was that. He told me to not pay the $300 for registration and just use his extra name tag if asked. Bet.

We headed off to the opening reception, it was kinda wack. some filipino girl stared at me long and hard outside as I was talking to a man from Gannett (Columbia ' 76). A thought briefly flashed through my head: there's enough ondal to go around. then I felt silly. then some silly fool asked me if I was Y. Peter Kang from Berkeley and told me he used to cut out my columns which was flattering. then he wouldn't go away. then I wondered if I should tell him that he's gay. He's probably the only one that doesn't know, i thought.

Then I went away to the pub crawl. There, SB introduced me to two girls he met. One was the peevish one from the shuttle. She turned out to be nice, or maybe I was drunk. The other one was a well-endowed newscaster from Denver. SB and I immediately began speculating. A wager was made. Convention hijinks at its best.

The pub crawl was a smashing failure. We decided to head over to the DC chapter's party at a place called Umlaut. Since I had taken linguistics courses at the university, I informed the others what an umlaut w�s. I basked in the applause that immediately followed. We arrived at the party and it was bumpin. or perhaps jumpin. I proceeded to get mad crazy wasted. But not too bad. On the ondal inebriation scale I was about a 7.5 ( agreeing to go to a strip club = 5; bus stop smashing = 10 ). I bought some talent agent from DC a shot of tequila then I asked him if he was Jewish. He was clearly Jewish. Then I bought the Jew a red bull. Then I bought myself one. Then I went on a shameless flirting rampage, collecting business cards from different women whose faces I now forget. and that was that.

SB and I asked the two girls if they would like to accompany us back to the hotel where we would smoke Chronic while they watched. They readily agreed and we made our way back. We kicked it for awhile -- sometimes giggling like schoolgirls, sometimes playfully teasing each other. In typical ondal fashion, I ended up going too far when I took Denver girl's shoes and ran out of the room. The next day, the story was that I was gallavanting up and down the hall in high heels and a purse. Whatever. I was drunk, and that night was just a small taste of what was to come.

to be continued...

Monday, August 12, 2002

i was gonna update this in a big way but instead, i'm disgusted with myself. maybe later.