12th night as a tourist
Jan. 7th, 2018 04:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hrjIt's a thing to become a person whose only SCA attendance is 12th night (because there's no camping and it's a good context for simply hanging out and chatting) and I've decided I've become one of those people. You don't actually get to hang out and chat with everyone, because there are still people who feel compelled to attend All The Court and then are so completely drained that they disappear, so maybe you get a "hello" in the hallway, but that's just how things are. I didn't really have an agenda of people to bump into, so I had some interesting conversation just on the basis of the chance of the flows and eddies. I had a bit of a panic Thursday night when packing and trying to figure out an outfit that I felt like wearing, that fit, and that hadn't been devastated by the Great Moth Tragedy. I don't think anyone took pictures of me, so I suppose it doesn't matter anyway.
One of the peculiar things about being a Person Who Only Goes to 12th Night is the people who make a fuss about how they haven't seen you in ages and how they've missed you, but who never really talked to you much back when you were active. (This is as opposed to the people who say they've missed you who did interact with you back when you were active.) Given that I'm active on facebook and here and twitter, and that I do socialize with a variety of SCA folks, I guess it's a bit hard to take seriously anyone who makes a fuss about missing me when there hasn't been any effort to keep in contact.
There was a really great artisans' display in a well-trafficked area and I think I chatted with almost everyone who was displaying. (It's rather fun to notice that someone is using one of your articles as part of their research binder.) I also got introduced to a lovely young woman who is a fan of the Alpennia books and was tickled to meet me. I failed my saving throw against buying pottery and picked up a small kylix with a harpy motif. The sine qua non of 12th night, of course, is the Golden Stag Players performance, with the added amusement of seeing my brother do a stage-Welsh accent for the character of Sir Hugh Evans in The Merry Wives of Windsor. I guessed wrong on the timing of dinner, though, having left it for after the performance. A possibly record-breaking long sequence of courts shifted the target performance time about 2 hours later than anticipated, so I didn't get dinner until 10pm, but had some nice chat time with my apprentice, despite us both being pretty zoned out by then. I suppose as someone gone inactive, I no longer have a right to gripe about the rudeness of court run-overs crapping on all the other event activities, but it was pretty clear that attendance at the play, the subsequent choir performance, and the dance ball were gutted by the schedule shift.
The only thing that significantly hampered enjoyment was having my lower back be out of sorts and trying to seize up every time I sat down. I was even pretty much done with all my post-cold symptoms, so that was nice.
One of the peculiar things about being a Person Who Only Goes to 12th Night is the people who make a fuss about how they haven't seen you in ages and how they've missed you, but who never really talked to you much back when you were active. (This is as opposed to the people who say they've missed you who did interact with you back when you were active.) Given that I'm active on facebook and here and twitter, and that I do socialize with a variety of SCA folks, I guess it's a bit hard to take seriously anyone who makes a fuss about missing me when there hasn't been any effort to keep in contact.
There was a really great artisans' display in a well-trafficked area and I think I chatted with almost everyone who was displaying. (It's rather fun to notice that someone is using one of your articles as part of their research binder.) I also got introduced to a lovely young woman who is a fan of the Alpennia books and was tickled to meet me. I failed my saving throw against buying pottery and picked up a small kylix with a harpy motif. The sine qua non of 12th night, of course, is the Golden Stag Players performance, with the added amusement of seeing my brother do a stage-Welsh accent for the character of Sir Hugh Evans in The Merry Wives of Windsor. I guessed wrong on the timing of dinner, though, having left it for after the performance. A possibly record-breaking long sequence of courts shifted the target performance time about 2 hours later than anticipated, so I didn't get dinner until 10pm, but had some nice chat time with my apprentice, despite us both being pretty zoned out by then. I suppose as someone gone inactive, I no longer have a right to gripe about the rudeness of court run-overs crapping on all the other event activities, but it was pretty clear that attendance at the play, the subsequent choir performance, and the dance ball were gutted by the schedule shift.
The only thing that significantly hampered enjoyment was having my lower back be out of sorts and trying to seize up every time I sat down. I was even pretty much done with all my post-cold symptoms, so that was nice.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-08 07:42 pm (UTC)*Not reaching out isn't a reflection on how much I care, or how often I think of someone. It is fairly normal for me to go to sit down with the thought of "I should send a note to ___, it has been too long since last I heard from them", but once there I first read new messages and posts here and/or FB and then forget to send the message till after I have shut down the computer again, at which point I don't turn it back on and send it. I am ever so much better at responding to than initiating contact.