The good sleep better at night, but the wicked enjoy their waking hours more
Woody Allen (attributed)
Dearest Rachel –
Well, were you expecting the intense bass guitar riffs of Deep Purple? This isn’t exactly a format that can accommodate that; or rather, I don’t have a .midi file at hand to attach to this letter that would get that started – and I think it would get old pretty fast, in any event.
The thing is, the “6-2-1 rule” is axiomatic for attendees of any convention like this. That is to say, one ought to get six hours of sleep, two meals and a shower or bath each day of the con. Really, these are good recommendations for life in general, in terms of one’s minimal bodily requirements, but in the hubbub of a convention, they tend to be overlooked. Even I’ve not managed to eat two meals a day for each day I’ve been here; granted, that was half intentional on my part, and what snacking I’ve done probably negated any benefits of that attempt.
What I’ve never had a problem with, on the other hand (which you were well aware of), are those six hours of sleep. I may want to be able to enjoy my waking hours, honey, but after midnight, it’s very difficult for me to keep myself together. Even back in college, when everybody was pulling all-nighters for one reason or another, I almost never could do that (not completely, mind you – there was at least that one time, but that was before you were in the picture).
As a result, I wonder how much I’ve missed out on (and continue to miss out on). I can’t imagine you had stories like Dan’s to relate, but you must’ve seen some craziness when you were looking for someone to play card games with during the wee hours of the conventions. Unfortunately, I don’t think you ever told me those stories – or if you did, I’ve long since forgotten.
But now that I’ve brought up card games, I suppose I should talk about last night’s activities. One of the late night panels was, in fact, “Card Games with the Guests,” which I took to be one of those Cards Against Humanity panels that we both enjoyed being a part of back in the day. As it turned out, this was a different set of cards; the game was actually more like a formalized version of Truth or Dare; and some of the dares got pretty challenging, especially in a public setting. The teams were given passes from having to strip to their underwear, but doing an ethnic stereotype as a robot or miming being trapped in an invisible box, was not out of the realm of possibility. Once each team had performed their assigned dare, they could ask the guests certain truths. In keeping with the nature of late-night panels, they tend to be pretty saucy: the weirdest place one has ever ‘done it,’ which part of anatomy gets one’s attention, that sort of thing.
The highlight of the game, as far as I was concerned, was when the guests were asked about their favorite sex toy. Dan, for his part, doesn’t even have to think; he immediately raises Jillian’s hand as high as he can. There is a brief moment where she is trying to process what’s going on, before her face turns bright red and she bursts out laughing, all but falling onto his shoulder.
There are occasional moments out here online, flashes of sudden wit, which leave those of us observing only able to respond by telling the original poster, “you won the internet for the day.” This single gesture, as far as I’m concerned (and I would expect that you would agree – I could see you latching onto my shoulder or my hand upon seeing it), wins marriage for Dan – and, I suppose, puts paid to any question as to whether or not he and Jillian are happily married.
This is the way it is supposed to be; this is a relationship to aspire to. I should mention that, over the course of some of his routines that we’ve watched in the past, he mentions having gone to Bible college (along with so many other unusual things about his past). It seems that he and Jillian have managed to balance the naughty and nice in a way that we were able to do – and maybe, just maybe, it gives me hope that there are others like you and Jillian, and so forth, out there to find. Maybe Megumi isn’t a mere pipe dream.
***
At the same time, this isn’t really the place to be looking for that. I mentioned the intensity of the partying on Thursday night; by Saturday night, once the masquerade ball is over, and the ‘after dark’ crowd has really started to get rolling, the patio and the promenade surrounding the lake behind the hotel is awash in smoke, neon and throbbing bass beats. Two guys in the proscenium at the base of the ramp are dueling each other with light sabers. But the bulk of the crowd is massed on the main landing, just outside of the hotel doors, dancing, drinking and smoking.
It’s… not exactly my scene. It reminds me a great deal of the fraternity parties that I would devoutly avoid back in college.
It’s the sort of thing that makes me lose hope. There’s this realization that I’m too ‘out there’ for the church crowd – Erin and her friends illustrate that surprisingly well, even though I’ve no idea about her friends’ backgrounds –but at the same time, I’m too square for the party animals. Like Virgil, I can only bring myself to wander around the fringes of this semi-organized chaos – and don’t even ask me about the late-night rave going on in Main Programming at the moment.
I wish I could remember what it was that you were doing – or where you managed to find it – when you were out late at night on these sort of convention nights. After all, this doesn’t look to be your scene either – unless there was something you didn’t tell me about.
***
I admit that I really would like to enjoy my waking hours a little more than I do, but not at the cost of a peaceful night’s rest. I suppose those that decide otherwise have concluded that they will get their sleep when they arrive at your state. But then, as Shakespeare put it, there’s always the question of what dreams they will face in that supposed rest.
It’s a difficult balance to achieve. We managed it; but that got me to assume that it was easy. Dan and Jillian seem to have it; but of course, they have each other already. Where does one go to find someone else who knows how to walk that tightrope, and is willing to join me in my act?
While I continue to search, honey, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 