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It's Dead Dog party time at Escapade and I'm hitting the wall, which I've been running straight into for a while now. I don't sleep well at hotels anyway, but this has been more stressful than usual since I came here from spending time with my sister. Things have been unusually bad, and I destroyed a reading party yesterday when my sister called, wanting me to come back down to San Diego today rather than go home on Monday from LAX, like I have planned. At that point I pretty much broke down and everyone in the room who'd been expecting a fun time had to try to put me back together. I'm so sorry, you guys, for spoiling the fun. But you helped me a lot.
I feel as if I'm teetering on the edge every second. I really need to sit down and have a good nervous breakdown sob session, but I just don't feel like I can. The con hasn't helped, it's been weird and awkward in spots, and the vid show was more stresful than usual because we got a new projector that wouldn't work at first. Lots of running around like a mad thing, and everyone losing their tempers. Pretty much par for the course, but it never is fun knowing that so many people are waiting for you with high expectations and it seems like it might not happen. Somehow we always get it to work, though.
I don't have much in the way of comments on shows and panels. I found more this year to connect to than I usually do, and that was nice. Met more new people. But overall it's felt as if a big dark cloud hangs over me, and it's hard to keep my attention on any one thing. I finally told me sister that I couldn't come down, that I simply had to go home. She'd asked me to change my plans on Thursday, so there was a big emergency about getting her home, and then I had to drive up to Ventura by myself and spend a lot more on the car, etc. Took me three and a half horrible hours in which I desperately had to pee, stuck in utter hell traffic on the 405, to get through LA just up to the 101, and another hour and a half or more to the hotel on Thursday. I got in ridiculously late, and had to drive back down to Oxnard to return the rental car. I think in a lot of ways that set a feeling for me I was never able to really get over. And it turns out that my sister doesn't really have 24 hour care that she needs, as she'd told us all at the hospital, so it's a serious crisis that I can't ignore.
I want to help her but I've spent the weekend around sick people, so I have no confidence I won't get sick again. And I'm thisclose to a nervous breakdown. So I really needed to go home, and I think her friend understands that and is trying to help me out. But I'll probably be back down in SoCal again this weekend. I'm so tired I hurt. I miss my cat. I want to just go home. But she's very, very ill, and I cannot ignore that she might die any day.
It's weird how this kind of thing affects everything else, stuff that shouldn't feel that way. I tried to patch up some issues with people but they didn't seem interested, and somehow that hurt worse than just "well, it's their problem." Rude people who turn their backs on people or shut people out really have given me the blues this weekend, more than it should. I should be able to shrug off being shined on by people I want to respect, and say, well, they're the losers, but it ends up feeling a lot worse than it ought to. Seeing friends behave badly wounds more than it should, as well. Strangely, it's been the people I don't know who've often been the friendliest, and kindest. The Mag 7 vid seemed to go off better than I expected (chatteraye, you'd have been really pleasantly surprised by the unusual fandoms this year in the show, I think, including Sharpie!) and that meant I was able to meet and connect to some people I haven't had the chance to before. That went a long way toward making the slights feel better in some respects. But I still have a hard time reconciling some of the sheer rudeness (something I really hate, because I keep struggling with changing my own bad behaviors) of people I know and thought better of, and I don't know why, it makes no sense, but that in your face kind of thoughtlessness has bothered me more this weekend than my sister's illness, and feeling like I've bailed on her in the worst situation she's ever been in. My priorities are really mixed up.
The con hotel is really quite nice in a lot of ways. Some problems, but the beds are great, and the swimming pool is divine -- the warmest I've ever been in. I swam and swam, and that always brings out intense emotions for me, I don't know why. I had a mini breakdown in the pool this afternoon, but not enough to get it out of my system. The beach was beautiful. I never got the chance to see the Fast and Furious filming sites that I wanted to -- if the emergency with my sister hadn't happened, I would have been down early on Thu with blackbird, and then we would have gone to "Toretto's Market" in Echo Park, and Neptune's Net, and things like that. I'm heartsick that I couldn't go, it may not happen ever now. That was the killer for the weekend, but maybe if we get down to LA early enough for our plane tomorrow, we can drive by at least one filming site. Otherwise I think it won't feel totally fannish.
And then back on more planes, and playing nurse again.
I feel as if I'm teetering on the edge every second. I really need to sit down and have a good nervous breakdown sob session, but I just don't feel like I can. The con hasn't helped, it's been weird and awkward in spots, and the vid show was more stresful than usual because we got a new projector that wouldn't work at first. Lots of running around like a mad thing, and everyone losing their tempers. Pretty much par for the course, but it never is fun knowing that so many people are waiting for you with high expectations and it seems like it might not happen. Somehow we always get it to work, though.
I don't have much in the way of comments on shows and panels. I found more this year to connect to than I usually do, and that was nice. Met more new people. But overall it's felt as if a big dark cloud hangs over me, and it's hard to keep my attention on any one thing. I finally told me sister that I couldn't come down, that I simply had to go home. She'd asked me to change my plans on Thursday, so there was a big emergency about getting her home, and then I had to drive up to Ventura by myself and spend a lot more on the car, etc. Took me three and a half horrible hours in which I desperately had to pee, stuck in utter hell traffic on the 405, to get through LA just up to the 101, and another hour and a half or more to the hotel on Thursday. I got in ridiculously late, and had to drive back down to Oxnard to return the rental car. I think in a lot of ways that set a feeling for me I was never able to really get over. And it turns out that my sister doesn't really have 24 hour care that she needs, as she'd told us all at the hospital, so it's a serious crisis that I can't ignore.
I want to help her but I've spent the weekend around sick people, so I have no confidence I won't get sick again. And I'm thisclose to a nervous breakdown. So I really needed to go home, and I think her friend understands that and is trying to help me out. But I'll probably be back down in SoCal again this weekend. I'm so tired I hurt. I miss my cat. I want to just go home. But she's very, very ill, and I cannot ignore that she might die any day.
It's weird how this kind of thing affects everything else, stuff that shouldn't feel that way. I tried to patch up some issues with people but they didn't seem interested, and somehow that hurt worse than just "well, it's their problem." Rude people who turn their backs on people or shut people out really have given me the blues this weekend, more than it should. I should be able to shrug off being shined on by people I want to respect, and say, well, they're the losers, but it ends up feeling a lot worse than it ought to. Seeing friends behave badly wounds more than it should, as well. Strangely, it's been the people I don't know who've often been the friendliest, and kindest. The Mag 7 vid seemed to go off better than I expected (chatteraye, you'd have been really pleasantly surprised by the unusual fandoms this year in the show, I think, including Sharpie!) and that meant I was able to meet and connect to some people I haven't had the chance to before. That went a long way toward making the slights feel better in some respects. But I still have a hard time reconciling some of the sheer rudeness (something I really hate, because I keep struggling with changing my own bad behaviors) of people I know and thought better of, and I don't know why, it makes no sense, but that in your face kind of thoughtlessness has bothered me more this weekend than my sister's illness, and feeling like I've bailed on her in the worst situation she's ever been in. My priorities are really mixed up.
The con hotel is really quite nice in a lot of ways. Some problems, but the beds are great, and the swimming pool is divine -- the warmest I've ever been in. I swam and swam, and that always brings out intense emotions for me, I don't know why. I had a mini breakdown in the pool this afternoon, but not enough to get it out of my system. The beach was beautiful. I never got the chance to see the Fast and Furious filming sites that I wanted to -- if the emergency with my sister hadn't happened, I would have been down early on Thu with blackbird, and then we would have gone to "Toretto's Market" in Echo Park, and Neptune's Net, and things like that. I'm heartsick that I couldn't go, it may not happen ever now. That was the killer for the weekend, but maybe if we get down to LA early enough for our plane tomorrow, we can drive by at least one filming site. Otherwise I think it won't feel totally fannish.
And then back on more planes, and playing nurse again.
