10:56 p.m. - 2008-03-24
Blame it on Ringo
So, no shit, there I was, sitting on a sofa bed with the female who is my college youth reincarnated and this guy I met at a sci-fi con, drinking kickin' Peg rum drinks and wondering how the heck I got to this point.
Back in 2006, I read this paperback book, second in a series, which was only four-fifths a part of the series. The other fifth being a couple of teasers. One teaser was a stand-alone short story of a... romance novel nature. The other teaser was an excerpt of a supernatural-fantasy sort of book--a distant cousin of "Charmed," "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," and "Angel." It featured a female character with red hair, a couple of kids, and a husband who loved college football but not road trips. A kindred, as it were. The title: "Princess of Wands." I promised myself that said book would be mine! OH, yeeesssss, my precious, it would be mine....
I checked it out of the library first--it was easier. And I read the three book novel (three volume novel?) earnestly with great enthusiasm. The only problem I had was, well, the middle part. It was set, not in Greensboro as was promised, but in Roanoke. MY Roanoke. My side of Roanoke, to be exact. And every reference I saw to the 'Noke made my brain hiccup because the geography was ALL WRONG. When I was done with "Book Two," I had this horrible compulsion to write the author and find out what he was DOING. I knew that he was not out to intentionally hurt my head, but he did. And I wanted to know why he declared the south end of town the north end. So off I went to use the power of the internet to track this guy down so I could ask him "WTF?!?!"
Thus began a series of events which might make a few good (or horrible) books one day. Let me sum up by saying I expanded my horizons: I discovered "cons" of the sci-fi nature, learned to drink red wine, contemplated the nature of fidelity, explored the erotic blogverse, wondered what I should be doing with my life, made new friends.... I also gained ten pounds because I couldn't get to the gym, but that is N's fault.
So about 18 months after first reading "Book Two," I found myself in an apartment in Newport News drinking rum drinks with a woman who wants to work for a theatre in PA and a guy who writes sci-fi books. I'd never met her if I hadn't gotten that part in the play. The play I auditioned for in the middle of the first 'con' I attended--expressly to see John Ringo. The 'con' where I met a guy who kept me out until the wee hours and then "invited" me to the second con, where I met this other guy.... You know, I'm not sure I could diagram this with a flowchart. It looks like my dating life in college. And anyone who knows about my incestuous dating life in college knows how wacky that mapped.
So, no shit, there I was, sitting on a sofa bed with this guy who hugs me and this girl who is so much like me wondering, "why the heck am I always on the right side of the bed??" I blame John Ringo.
