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What a great time we had at the 2004 Writing.Com convention, you should have been there! |
| Three Times the Charm As I prepared to leave for convention all alone, I anticipated meeting everyone from prior conventions, and those who would be attending for the first time. Having done this twice before I immediately noticed something was missing: wrilly. Being a member of the site, and my daughter we had traveled to the convention the two previous years and our travels always started in our home as we ensured that everything was packed for the weekend. This year all I had was a list of things to take, which made no loving snide remarks, or laughed at my absentmindedness. Instead, I would pick up a stranger on the way, who would be attending the convention for the first time. This was not because she had not wanted to go prior, but because her age had restricted her from attending. Just before midnight, I called missbiggs to confirm the details of our plans. Her voice slightly reserved, showed a shyness that I hope would not provide a silent trip. As I turned the key to start the engine, I reviewed my mental note to make sure I had everything for a weekend of fun and adventure. Driving to the border was quick as I had done it many times before and nothing really changes on the highways except the cars passing by. Darkness surrounded me but it was surely no indication of what was in store. I must have an incredibly honest face, or be of no threat for my trip through both the Canadian and United States borders lasted but five minutes and I was that much closer to meeting a new friend. Just shortly before six am, I pulled into the diner and sat for a moment. I did not see the vehicle that Bernie had described she would be in so after calling her on her cell I ventured into this diner for a cup of coffee and some toast. The U.S. always amazes me with each visit. As this burley woman stood before me and asked for my order I thought it would be a simple request. When she replied, “What kind of toast would you like?” My facial expression twisted I replied, “What do you mean what kind.” At this point, she shook her head and rhymed off all these different bread types. You’d think I had just come out of the dark ages, and it was clear she appeared annoyed that she had to tell me the list memorized in her head. Just another prime example of why living in Canada is simpler, toast is toast, bread toasted, white, or brown. Unless you state brown, you automatically get white. No questions asked. I enjoyed my raisin toast immensely. Bernie arrived in the parking lot and let me know she was ready to go. After a little discussion with her mother as to the fun, she was sure to have while away we headed down the highway to the convention. Our conversations were a mixture of everything, and we had a great time getting to know one another on a more personal level. Off the highway and into the town of Bethlehem we followed the directions to the Holiday Inn at the Gateway Convention Center. The grounds were massive and groomed to perfection. After parking, we entered the lobby it was now eleven am. Registration did not start until one pm, so we inquired at the front desk about our rooms and then went to find the hospitality room for the convention. Peaking our heads into the doorway of the dimly lit room, we saw all the artifacts of a convention presence but no one was in the room. It was now time to entertain ourselves until we could locate others who were at the convention. Since the hotel had a pool it would have been a good time to go swimming, however Bernie had forgotten her bathing suit. Alas, a shopping trip was in order. We toured around the city and the most we found was a grocery store, however one of the staff was kind enough to direct us to a mall in a nearby city. We never did find that mall, but opted for the first store we found which was a K-Mart. Since they had moved all their stores out of Canada ten years prior, I wanted to go in and tour about. We arrived back to the hotel around two pm and made it through the front door when I saw a smiling face and open arms waiting. The The StoryMistress Across the back of the room stood a large table filled with t-shirts and behind there on the floor were Writing.Com bags. After I hugged catwoman Hugs, laughter, and introductions were mixed with guessing games, buffet lunch, and swapping of books. At one point, I had returned to my car to retrieve my auction item and my smile’s. Since the first year, I had placed upon everyone’s ID badge a smile sticker. They all thought it was cute, but it was my way of knowing that I had taken the time to meet everyone and talked to them. This year phil1861 brought stickers too, but only a pookie did receive, exactly what is that secret code. It was time, and it had been preplanned, all that was missing were the directions. Since we were in the home area of the The StoryMaster Time was running out and if we didn’t exit soon we would be late for the Welcome Diner, so we raced backed to the hotel. A large table sat in front of a doorway filled with fortune cookies and a red sack. Scooping a cookie on my way through the door, I was immediately escorted back out. “But I thought they were free.” Actually, I had neglected to draw a flower from the red sack. This was to advise me as to which table I would be sitting at. My first meal would be spent with John~Ashen After our creative session, it was time for dinner in a buffet style we filled our plates with what we wanted to consume and returned to our table. We had been abandoned. Greg was drawn to a table where his lovely Mariposa After dinner the lights dimmed and our favorite D.J. from the year prior started to play some tunes as musical chairs began. A tapping sound on a microphone drew all eyes to the stage. Logs and tree branches surrounded an old fashioned lamp, which decorated the front of the stage where the StoryMaster stood welcoming everyone to the 2004 convention. A campfire was about to start and a selection of members from the audience were volunteered to appear on stage. Like ducks in a shooting gallery six of us stood against the back of the stage, Sir Duck, Jay's debut novel is out now! It was just so much fun trying to continue a bizarre story, which prompted a second group of six onto the stage for another story. At the conclusion, the storytellers were presented with an embroidered campfire badge. While the activities for the day were over the night surely wasn’t. The D.J. continued to play in the background as a group of lively members engaged in a game of Bullshit. From the Lehigh room all ventured over to the lounge in the Moravian room. This room would be our stomping grounds for the weekend and open 24 hours a day. The StoryMistress had ensured we would not be bored filling it with a variety of board and card games, as well as paper, crayons, and markers if we felt like being creative. There were also a variety of snacking foods, and non-alcoholic beverages for us to indulge in. A large group had assembled. Here we sat and played a variety of games until the early hours of the morning. Slowly one by one members returned to their rooms to get some sleep. The morning call came far two quickly perhaps it has something to do with only going to bed a couple hours before. Regardless breakfast was being served in the Lincoln room. A full buffet of everything breakfast was hot and ready to be consumed. I dashed to the beverage table for an orange juice and stood talking with Colin, Viv and Jacque Graham Breakfast was relaxing and everyone just picked a seat and sat. Conversation flowed with reminiscing remarks from the night before. Soon it was time to move us into the Jefferson room where tables were set up for the creative sessions. Our nametags held the location of where we would be sitting and whom we would be sitting with. At the tables, a pen and Writing.Com clipboard marked the spot where you would sit and this was another goodie to be placed in your bag to take home. As I glanced around the table and into the faces of smplycntnt, Eliot Like cows in a pasture, it was time to move to the next spot to fill our tummies with the rumble of laughter from yet another story session. This time the faces of Sir Duck, Winklett, master_akura, Ellz, John Ashen, Mia, and Shanachie With a sigh of relief and a much-needed break lunch was served in the Lincoln room. Much chatter over the various stories that had been created in the previous room filled the existing room with laughter. But it was not done yet for immediately after lunch we returned to the Jefferson room for one more tantalizing tale to be written. My fellow writers, Night Owl, Milkman, Wenston With our creativity drained, we were ecstatic to be provided with some free time. Shopping mall here we come, well that is as soon as we find you. With the company of Stormy, Milkman, and laurencia, we went MOO shopping. Ya just had to be there to understand. All our purchases in hand we returned to the hotel to prepare for open mic night. As in past this has always been a challenging night for those that were to perform on stage and an enjoyable one for the audience. Entering into the dimly lit Jefferson room, we had the opportunity to pick any seat. Waiting for us at the table was a supper huge Writing.Com coffee mug filled with chocolate treats. The stage was set and only a microphone stood patiently waiting for its first performer. In the back, the D.J. patiently waited for a cue to stop the atmospheric music she was playing. He entered the stage from the right and stood before the mic “Welcome, man that light is bright.” With a shift of his hands and a reach into his back pocket, the StoryMaster proudly placed atop his nose his sunglasses. Smiling into the crowd, “Now that’s better, how’s everyone tonight.” One by one, members of the crowd came before the stage and showed talents producing, laughter, tears, clapping, and standing ovations. From, poetry readings to storytelling, carried into songs of delight, followed by a theatrical performance that was truly a delight. A musical creation that only we will ever hear, it really is quite remarkable to be there. No amount of words could do our performers justice, as they were all extraordinaire. The planned events were over for the night but the party was still yet to conclude, as the members ventured over to the Moravian room to play the night away. A variety of card games and scrabble, some picture drawing, and then of course the occasional trips out doors. Bottles recovered from hotel rooms, and filled glasses of those that were of age, the after hour party had begun. Write-fully Loti And in a game of poker we found Fireant The Lincoln room welcomed us with open arms and food set out on a buffet. It was the perfect start to yet another day. Conversation was flowing no matter what table you sat at, for there was much talk of the events that hadn’t even been played yet. Relaxing there with new and old friends it was soon announced the auction viewing was ready. Everyone that had made it to breakfast swarmed into the Lehigh room where tables were placed against each of the three walls with all the items everyone had brought with them. The auctioneers stand waited silently for all to enter into the room and find a spot to sit. Each member was given an action number in their goodie bags, and some went back to their rooms to retrieve them. Milkman and Pita Bidding wars began and only those with the largest pocket books achieved the placement of the item on their table. My oh my this otherwise calm bunch suddenly became wild with excitement, and you never really knew who would get to claim their prize until the final bid was done. So many items, some hand crafted, others store mastered, but each in their own way unique to the person who brought them. A short break for lunch was ordered, and just as well, it gave everyone a chance to see the final items up for bid. And finally the last item went on the auction block; it was hard to believe that five hours had passed by so quickly. Everyone paid their dues, especially Diane It was hard to believe that we returned to the same room for it looked so much different in a softer glow of light and the tables all decorated with the finest linens. Outside the door stood a table with place cards that identified the table you would be sitting at. On the table was a golden sack filled with the richest chocolates you could imagine. Everyone just mingled around it was a good time for photo’s and getting the last of the autographs in your 2004 Convention Yearbook. This was our formal dinner and the staff did not let us down, we were treated like kings and queens as our meal began and everyone took their seats. A salad first, followed by soup, a custom order for our meat as to how we wanted it done. We were the ladies in black, Stormy, *love2NaNoWriMo* It was a game we had played the year before, and we certainly didn’t learn much, since we still didn’t have half of the items she read off her list. It felt as it were a game of cat and mouse to see who could retrieve from their purse first the items she did ramble off. With the mood set and everyone ready to party on, it was time to see if a few select members could ramble on. So, she called to the stage, Winklett, Mia, Milkman and myself. And presented us with a slip of paper that revealed things we had apparently said. Laughter instilled the house as we read from these papers, it surely hadn’t been us it must have been another. Now to let us off the hook so easily would have been kind but she felt just one more thing we needed to do instead. So, she presented us with glasses in funky colored shapes and asked each one of us to put them on. Since nothing could be seen through these glasses she did give us, it was next she presented us with nylons that surely wouldn’t fit us. When the oranges appeared in her hands we knew we were in trouble. The rest as they say my friends is history, and I’m sure we will not live it down, but I did hear the comment that we looked like a bunch of clowns. Dancing was soon to begin, but first there were a few announcements from our wonderful hosts. This included awards that were presented to those who traveled the most. And with one final word, the StoryMaster did conclude for us all there they would perform a wedding tribute. So, a song did start to play and in each other’s arms they did sway to the melody they had chosen to be their wedding song. In a grand gesture from all of us there we gathered to the floor and encircled them in our love and StoryMaster dipped the StoryMistress gripping her so she would not fall. It was a marvel to see for they had certainly been practicing their routine. They graced across the floor sweeping our tears of joy as they passed by. And with the conclusion of their dance, we all continued to stay on the dance floor and dance the night away. Many had returned to their rooms to get changed from formal wear into casual comfy and returned to the dance floor for the final songs of the evening. As in past we gathered to the center and danced as a group of family of which we had all become in just three short days. The D.J. had completed the final song, and so it was time to find some entertainment of our own. Being on the main level of the hotel, balcony doors could be found just off the dance floor that led to a patio area with tables and chairs. The night air was warm, and the sky’s were starting to light up. A few of us sat beneath the canopy and watched as the rain came pouring down. Others followed suit and soon all the chairs were filled, but a convenient ledge made for extra seating space. It was then that lifewriter stood in excitement announcing she need to run to her car. When she returned with a brown paper bag we all looked on in question. As she dumped the bag upside down on the center of the table, those that were sitting close grabbed at the packages. They were glow sticks. Rainbows of color soon lit up as each cracked a stick and waved it about. They were just to pretty and bright to sit on the table, so arms a waving some imagination did follow. It was great watching the StoryMaster and StoryMistress get into the fun, as Catwoman teased them on. The rain had stopped and a game of toss Sir Duck and I did play. We only caught a few but we sure did find all the potholes in that flat land. Members came and went and the conversations sure did change, but the surrounding was peaceful and everyone was content. It was fun spending time with Lexi The morning would soon be here and it would mean we would all have to leave. Early goodbye’s were shared as some would be leaving before the crack of dawn, and others were sure to be gone before most of us would raise our heads from the pillows. An early morning breakfast was supplied by the hotel for those that were leaving early. For the remainder a goodbye lunch was served in the Lincoln room at noon. The tables were not as crowded as the day before and conversation was down to a dull roar. Sadness filled those getting ready to leave, as hugs and well wishes were extended. In my rearview mirror, I watched the hotel fade out of sight. I must admit it gets easier each year that I attend just knowing the opportunity is always there for me to visit with everyone again. |