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moment of zen
Mar. 28th, 2008 09:24 amit's damn cold for Seattle in the springtime, and after freezing yesterday, today i was at the bus stop swaddled in wool coat and scoodie. so it took a moment for me to notice the cosplayers.
of course. this weekend is Sakuracon. all eight of them got on my bus. at first i assumed that they were neighborhood kids, skipping class at Ballard High. cute.
one of them was a loud-talker, so she reshaped the narrative. she and at least one other are from Portland. (blah blah blah streetcar.) she is telling the group about her friends "on the internet" so i don't think they all knew each other IRL before they came to the con. they must be staying all in one or two rooms at the Starlight Hotel, which is a residency hotel and the sort of place that broke kids from out of town would find on the internet and organize a share via bulletin board or livejournal community. definitely broke. the girl with the flowing white wig sports a bow made of glued felt, not bicolored ribbon or fabric. two have fading or failed blue/purple hair dye that was definitely done at home and not refreshed for the trip. the costumes look more homemade than handmade in general. the one with the cat theme has a camera around her neck that is an SLR, but looks elderly enough to be a family castoff.
i wonder if this is something they look forward to all year, or something they are trying for the first time.
i can tell that everyone is getting uncomfortable around loud-talker. she hasn't learned the lesson about choosing where to admit that you like to talk with your friend over Skype while you watch the same anime at the same time in your respective homes. the other seven start to get that look, the "don't mind me, i'm not really with her, i'm not just like her". loud-talker is starting to get the hint by the time we reach Lower Queen Anne.
i realize that i'm getting that look too. maybe i'm even sliding my hand over my I Matched it for Pratchett button. part of me is glad that she can be so joyful about her pursuits and feel so safe, wondering what it would have been like to be able to find friends with common interests online when everyone around me was obsessing over boy bands and football. the rest of me is falling into memories of being the weird kid and all i want to do is shut her up before someone notices her.
of course. this weekend is Sakuracon. all eight of them got on my bus. at first i assumed that they were neighborhood kids, skipping class at Ballard High. cute.
one of them was a loud-talker, so she reshaped the narrative. she and at least one other are from Portland. (blah blah blah streetcar.) she is telling the group about her friends "on the internet" so i don't think they all knew each other IRL before they came to the con. they must be staying all in one or two rooms at the Starlight Hotel, which is a residency hotel and the sort of place that broke kids from out of town would find on the internet and organize a share via bulletin board or livejournal community. definitely broke. the girl with the flowing white wig sports a bow made of glued felt, not bicolored ribbon or fabric. two have fading or failed blue/purple hair dye that was definitely done at home and not refreshed for the trip. the costumes look more homemade than handmade in general. the one with the cat theme has a camera around her neck that is an SLR, but looks elderly enough to be a family castoff.
i wonder if this is something they look forward to all year, or something they are trying for the first time.
i can tell that everyone is getting uncomfortable around loud-talker. she hasn't learned the lesson about choosing where to admit that you like to talk with your friend over Skype while you watch the same anime at the same time in your respective homes. the other seven start to get that look, the "don't mind me, i'm not really with her, i'm not just like her". loud-talker is starting to get the hint by the time we reach Lower Queen Anne.
i realize that i'm getting that look too. maybe i'm even sliding my hand over my I Matched it for Pratchett button. part of me is glad that she can be so joyful about her pursuits and feel so safe, wondering what it would have been like to be able to find friends with common interests online when everyone around me was obsessing over boy bands and football. the rest of me is falling into memories of being the weird kid and all i want to do is shut her up before someone notices her.
