Subject: NDFS: Controlled Chaos From: mamamoo@stax.net (Maggie ) Newsgroups: rec.arts.sf.written.robert-jordan Organization: HopelessRomatics.com Friday, 4:40AM. 4:40?? The alarm was set for 2:45AM! "FUCK!" My trip to the NDFS started out as so many of my trips do. Late. Nothing unusual there. If I'm ever on time for anything, the Heavens will fall and the Angels will drop at my feet. I learned a few things Friday morning. Mark doesn't realize that the alarm is supposed to wake *me* up every now and then. The Taurus can do 80. I'm a *real* bitch without my coffee. Miraculously, I made my flight to Cleveland, then settled in for my flight to Vegas. David's flight was to land shortly before mine, and Leigh and Noell were to meet us both, I had visions of a raucous morning dancing in my head. My flight arrived twenty minutes ahead of schedule, so I chose a chair to wait for the three of them. The best laid plans, and all of that...Leigh and Noell arrived without David. <*grumble*> His flight had been delayed two hours! Not one to leave my Warder wondering where the hell I was, I was prepared to wait. Leigh and Noell convinced me to head back to the hotel, which I did for just long enough to ditch my bag and head back for the World's Ugliest Airport to collect my Warder. Upon returning to the Nugget, we stowed bags, caught our breath and heeded the summons of Lord High Kenn to haul ass to visit him. Given that our previous lunch plans had been scuttled thanks to America West, we figured it would be a good idea, and wandered through the rabbit warren to find his room. Kenn regaled us with his tale of travel woes and we were introduced to The Grey Man himself, CD Skogsberg. Oh my. I felt about as tall as your average cricket next to CD, but what a sweetheart he is! We decided to go get lunch and ended up getting adding Steve Ginter and Drew to our little parade along the way. Kenn and Drew, having already had lunch, went off to gamble, I went off with my three slender escorts to JohnD's Grill, where we managed to find something edible, tell travel horror stories and talk about various and sundry. From the cafe: Me: "I have a thing for skinny guys." CD demonstrated that he could encircle his wrist with his thumb and little finger. "Like this?", he asked. Steve Ginter, relating a party tale: "I had that freshly squeezed feeling, and there was a six-foot sub sandwich tucked into the bed next to me..." Much laughter later, we decided we should track down Kenn and Drew to see how they were faring. We were unsuccessful, and, figuring they had been eaten by the casino, made our way back to the Nugget to finish unpacking and get ready for dinner. Steve and CD bade us goodbye, and David and I attempted to connect with Leigh, who had gone to Star Trek: The Experience. Leigh: "It was thickly layered with cheese." We would spend the entire weekend trying to connect with Leigh, but something always got in the way...namely sleep. She doesn't. Ever. We mere mortals need an hour or two, though. I thought I didn't sleep much... David relied on my horrible sense of direction to find the dinner, so we were a little late. We found ourselves seated with Kenn, Katy Westerman and her friend (forgive me, his name has been lost), Alaric and, eventually, Mark and Deb Loy. I wandered about and soon met, in no particular order, Dennis Higbee, Steve Anderson, Sydo Zandstra, Pat and Karen O'Connell, Tshen, Brian Ritchie, Steve Moss, Nathan Lundblad, Trina Dykstra, Eric Milota, Bill Garrett, Kate Nepveu, Lara Beaton and Dave Hemming, and got to say hello to many that I had already met at previous Socials. Somebody poked David about his shirt, and Bill Garrett snapped a picture of two of it. Dinner turned out to be raucous bursts of laughter, interrupted by food. The chicken was...interesting, the cheescake wonderful and the company absolutely divine. Mark Loy: "I think we should all thank the man who made this all possible, the man who got us away from the East Coast, from the West Coast, the man responsible for getting us all here -- G00dgulf!" I thought Drew was going to choke. Leigh presented me with a set of tapes and customized liner notes, and quickly exited stage left. After a minute of reading, I figured out why, and promptly tracked her down to raise hell with her for making me cry. <*smile*> I'm very lucky to have such great friends, y'all know who you are. Eventually, travel and merrymaking caught up with me, I desperately needed a nap. The nap ended up being 10 hours of sleep, and I woke bright and early Saturday morning, ready to eat an entire cow and take on Vegas properly. My growling appetite led us to the Cafe downstairs, where we were joined by Kenn and CD. Annette Dilick made a brief appearance and had a load of Kenn's change foisted upon her. She came back a little while later, having turned the change into ~$15! Our server placed an entire carafe of coffee beside me at one point... Kenn: "Oh, they *know* you, don't they!" We made our way to the pool, where a small group had already gathered. Novak was clearly not amused at the prospect of searching for a swimsuit and told me to put my Warder to work and make him go find one. Eventually, I went to look, and Novak disappeared. Thankfully, he chose the blue ones, not the gawdawful green trunks that were prominently displayed in the hotel gift shop. Steve Anderson cracked wise about my "goddess of Margaritas" status, and Steve Ginter laughingly kissed my proferred foot... Kenn: "Do you know where that foot has been? Where has that foot been?" Steve Ginter: "Well, she's in a pretty good mood, so it obviously hasn't been up anybody's ass lately." More wandering about ensued, and I ended up with Steve Ginter, David and Dennis Higbee on a quest for Hard Rock Cafe pins, then a wander about the strip. We gawked at the faux Roman statuary, putting me alongside the statue of Venus when I remarked smirkingly "Mine are bigger." Dennis Higbee: "While they were taking your picture, someone handed me a card for Live Nude Girls! Do I look that desperate?" Someone deduced that he was handed the ad because he was staring at a nude Roman sculpture in an auto-erotic pose. Only in Vegas... We spent the afternoon wandering the Strip. Steve and I both looked up at the same time to find that Ghirardelli's was across the street and we were off, me dragging the guys and taking no arguments. We quickly decided to share an Earthquake, eight scoops of ice cream, drowning in toppings, whipped cream, nuts, cherries and street-car shaped candies. We killed it. From Ghirardelli's: Dennis Higbee: "Spit it out, ye wee bastard!" To David: "Ooh, we found a longer one!" Steve Ginter: "That's a mean thing to say to a guy!" Me, spluttering: "Stop, before I choke on this thing! Oh...that did *not* come out right..." We made our way back to Caesar's to meet up with the rest of the crew for dinner, where we waited for two and a half hours to get into the Cheesecake Factory, to the tune of $452!. No matter, we had plenty of entertainment: Noell: "I keep willing this thing to work. Vibrate, damn you, vibrate!" Deb Loy: "It will work if you put it between your legs." Deb: "We can share." Noell: "I heard this on the radio, they were having a contest. 'If Frosty were a Clark bar, how would you eat him?' The winner said 'I'd rip off the wrapper, lick the nuts, cram the bar down my throat and swallow.' " Leigh: "It's a nuclear explosion of taste." Eric Milota: "Does it explode in your mouth?" After dinner and a wild IMAX ride, we were off to the hotel again, dancing through the casino onthe way to Steve's car. Stuffed into Steve Ginter's car: me, Kenn, Rajesh Vaidya, Cassandra, and David, who perched upon my and Cassandra's laps. We threatened him with molestation, to his amusement. Kenn: "We never hear about Alternative Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous." Cassandra: "I don't have a bong, I have a collection!" Upon spilling out of Steve's car, the conversation continued in the molestation vein, and before I knew it, Kenn was holding a heaping handful of Maggie. Poor Rajesh, I don't think he knew quite what to make of us. After a brief moment to change clothes, it was out the door again, to watch The Matrix with Mark, Deb and the rest of the "family". Sunday morning found me wide awake at an early hour again, so I wrote postcards...until the hotel began shaking and swaying. I was, pardon the pun, quite rattled, and dragged a protesting David downstairs with me, where we met up with Pam Korda. She wasn't best pleased by the shaking either! Once I regained my composure, we headed off to the hotel's wonderful buffet with Kenn, Dave Hemming and Alaric, who is either as addicted to coffee as I, or just can't sit still. The man was surely energetic! Alas, all good things must end, and this Social ended far too soon. I managed to drag David off on a quest for souvenirs and the like, then we returned to the poolside to Tshen, Novak, Brian Ritchie, Leigh, Kenn, CD, Noell, Eric, Drew, Mark, Deb, Trina...so many people, so little memory...the stories and laughter flowed, time passed far too quickly, and it was time to say goodbye. There were hugs all around, Novak insisted I beg for one...I did, on my knees...CD nearly killed himself picking me up, and Kenn grabbed me once more for a good natured mammary squeeze -- and then it was time to go. My flight ended up being delayed, so David wound up waiting with me until it was time for him to board...I bade him goodbye...and the Social was, for me, at an end. Thank you, Drew, for all of the work you put into this...Kenn, my guardian angel...David, my dear friend and official Margarita moocher <*grin*>...and everyone who attended for brightening my summer. I can't think of a finer group of people to spend my vacation with. Pictures for the curious should be up in about a week. -- Maggie UIN 10248195 http://home.talkcity.com/EaselSt/princessmoo/ "MAGGIE: In rasfwrj mythology, a minor fertility goddess and patron goddess of Margaritas. Usually depicted as wearing a chainmail bra and wielding a killfile." --Magnus Itland on RASFWRJ