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Dallas Con, Part 1 (and soon to be 2)
chris - the hotness
Okay, so here it goes. Start to finish, for the most part, though I'm probably going to leave out niggling little details like... oh, say, panels. Mostly because I know everyone and their mom has seen the videos and stuff, so it'd open up so many doors for "But Jamie, that's not what he said!" because my memory for exact quotes is shit sometimes, I'm not gonna lie. And some of it has nothing to do with the convention, 'cause I did other stuff while up there.

DAY 1. I am incapable of leaving anywhere on time, so I got out of Houston an hour later than I really wanted to. Which was fine, 'cause I already knew I was willfully going to miss Alona's panel in favor of having lunch with my little sister, who lives literally a 10 minute drive away from DFW. What kind of con has a panel at 4pm on a Friday, anyway? But that's just me bitching, I'm sure. So I meet up with my sister, meet her boyfriend for the first time (a meeting that takes all of five minutes during which we speak maybe 15 words to each other, but he seems like a good guy), and my sister and I have lunch. Panera Bread is the shit, yo. There were hopes that I'd see a friend from high school there because she's manager of that Panera, but I THINK she was getting married this last weekend, so no go. Anyhow. My sister and I went malling while I waited to hear from vitasatusiam, and I bought a really cute shirt to club in. Which turned out to be useless, but I digress!

I don't even make it to the hotel until about 7. DFW is like its own little city, y'all, and it's a confusing one with retarded signage. It's all 'oh, Hyatt Regency straight head!' and then fifty yards later, it turns to 'JUST KIDDING JUST KIDDING TURN LEFT RIGHT NOW'. I didn't get lost or anything, and by some weird stroke of luck I didn't cut anyone off (because people drive the speed limit in Dallas, how weird is that?!), and voila, I made it to the hotel. There wasn't much that went on that first night; in retrospect, we probably should've gone out FRIDAY instead of planning to do it Saturday. Blah, blah, hindsight. We stayed in and watched movies, though, and Hot Fuzz is kind of amazing.

DAY 2. We get up, register, and I promptly start the weekend off with a bang by breaking down and buying a photo op with Jared. This sets the stage for me and spending, which I somehow always avoid during conventions but did not even come CLOSE to doing this time. That gold pass does terrible things to your head, and I kind of love it. While we're standing around waiting for crap to start, Chad Lindberg walks right past us. So me, in my infinite intelligence, am all "Oh, hi Chad!", and he glances sidelong and does the chin thing before he gets whisked away (his handler person, as it turns out, is fucking awesome, but I digress again).

Anyway, Chad has his panel, and then... God, I'm already starting to forget the exact order of stuff, how pathetic is that? Somewhere in there I buy STILL MORE SHIT (including a hoodie for devidarkwolf, do not let me forget to send it to you, ha). Gabe has his panel, and he is little and adorable and I want to sit and talk to him for hours, oh my God. I honest to goodness cannot remember whether this next part happened before or after Fred's panel, but... y'know, whatever. So we decide we're parched and need to go upstairs for some water, and while we're standing there trying to figure out whether or not the coffee bar place actually sells bottles of water, Steve Carlson walks by us. Which is kind of lost on me, 'cause I'm a terrible fangirl and did not recognize the man on sight until this weekend. But vitasatusiam sure does recognize him, and I get told.

WELL OKAY. He goes past us and sits at the bar with his bodyguard guy, and lo and behold, there's a seat next to them. So screw the coffee bar, we are now buying water at the BAR bar. I walk on over and sit my butt down next to the bodyguard guy, do the quick 'hey' thing I always feel obligated to do when I'm invading someone's personal bubble, and flag the bartender over for our waters. At this point I'm expecting poor vitasatusiam to say something to the man, because I am not in love with him, but there is silence. XD It ends up that we just get our waters and vacate, but... y'know, our track record for running into these guys was getting awesome. And about to be awesome...er. It's a word.

We go back downstairs, I THINK to grab our seats for Fred's panel (and since I forgot, I bought my ticket the week before the event and ended up in seat B16, how fucking boss is that?!), and I throw the door open to walk in and Gabe and I nearly trample each other. Awesome. There is mutual terror that we seriously nearly smacked heads, but then he's getting whisked away again so we just do the 'hey, sorry!' thing and move on. There is panel, and there are autographs, and while I got all three, I don't have any awesome stories to tell on this one because watching Chad and Gabe go back and forth with each other is seriously amusing, so I kinda just listened and laughed. Gabe is honest to Jesus adorable, and I know I keep saying it, but it's true enough to be worth saying like, five times.

Wait, random vent. I don't know if it's bad to say this or what, but Adam (I think that's his name, cough), the dude who runs Creation? Annoys the crap out of me. Dude, you get to talk to these people all the time, and I understand that you maybe have questions to ask them from a fan perspective, but he asks multi-part questions and ends up like, conversing with them while people are waiting to ask other questions. It's only an issue if he asks one and they run out of time for other questions before everyone gets to talk, but I am easy annoyed, and that tweaked me all weekend. Back to the good.

There's enough time between now and the concert to actually go get food and stuff, and thus enters another DFW rant - what kind of airport charges you to DRIVE THROUGH IT?! I mean, I got my parking validated and it was thus free, but there is a toll plaza coming in and it's like, a dollar to just drive through and pick people up. Friggin' Dallas. But we make a Walmart run (CLASSY), find a Burger King (YET MORE), and head back to eat and then get cute. I finally wear this black cocktail dress I have, and even though I was kind of overdressed, I was still ten kinds of tickled to actually get to wear it, so what the hell ever.

The concert was actually kind of awesome. Not that I expected Steve to suck or anything, I just hate going to concerts where I know NONE of the music, and... I knew none of the music. But I do love watching people do their thing, so I probably ended up just staring all intense while he sang. He had some set list written up, but he ended up tossing all of it out the window before the second song, I'm pretty sure. He was a lot of fun to watch, and I now have a boatload of respect for him as a songwriter because there are some complexities to what he does that are just phenomenal. I got a CD, anyway, and I never buy CDs. ...Don't pirate music, kids, it's wrong.

Steve claims he is going to hang out at the bar after the concert, so in lieu of actually going to the cocktail party right away, we head up there to sit and wait. vitasatusiam buys this rum and coke that radiates rum fumes so strong that if you struck a match it'd burn your FACE OFF, and I get stared at by these creepy dudes who just stand near our table and WILL NOT GO AWAY, but eventually Steve shows up. And avoids all fans, pretty much, though vitasatusiam did get to give him his present, and got a hug and an inadvertent grope to boot. Win.

We go to the cocktail party and I make a beeline for the "bar", where I am promptly disappointed that I cannot have a pomegranate martini, but I CAN pay $7.25 for a rum punch in a little glass. OKAY FINE. Highway robbery. But he did make it strong, so here's to you, bartender dude. We catch a couple of seats at a table with some very sweet ladies of whom I remember maybe three or four names (YOU WERE FUN BUT I AM CRAP WITH NAMES). They're regulars, it seems, and we get the insider scoop on how Fred is a megagroper when drunk. Good information to have! The guys show up and get escorted around to the tables, and we're waiting ages to even get one of them. Gabe finally shows up first, toting a huge coffee cup and holding it like it's his lifeline. I know how you feel, buddy.

Gabe is, again, sweet and very engaging, but I didn't get to talk to him much beyond our very first exchange, which went something like this.

Gabe: How is everybody tonight?
Everyone: Good, great, etc.
Me: Peachy!
Gabe: [horrified] What?!
Me: ...Peachy?
Gabe: Oh my GOD, I thought you said bitchy, and I was thinking I picked the right side of the table!

RANDOM TANGENT: Haha, 'Wasted Jamie' just came up on my iTunes. SING TO ME, STEVE.


Gabe got shuttled from table to table REALLY fast, so we didn't have a whole lot of time with him. After we got him, most of the girls at my table split to avoid Fred, so it ended up being just me, vitasatusiam, and Leia (WHICH IS PRONOUNCED LIKE LEE-AH, GUYS) at our table. And then Chad came over, and I am pleased to report that as drunk/high/whatever as he always tends to sound in panel, he is way, way more with it when you're more one-on-one. I didn't make the 'peachy' mistake with him, but we didn't talk about much of TOO much story-making value because I think he was surprised that there were only three of us at the table. He did call Fred "high maintenance" with the little winky-nod when we mentioned WHY they'd all left, though, so that was kind of amusing. His handler person for the weekend was Dakota, who turned out to be a friend of his from Shreveport or something, and he was awesome. He was the aftershow to Chad, so instead of table-hopping with him, he hopped to the table Chad had just been at and talked for awhile after. He was one of my favorite people of the weekend.

Once Dakota left our table, Leia split too. Which actually caused US to split, because while I was kind of curious about drunk Fred, I did not want to be one of the only two people at a table with drunk Fred. So self-preservation won out, unfortunately, so I have no stories on that front, either. Sad, but true.

Drink count: 1. What the hell was wrong with me, I should've gotten wasted and rowdy. Ugh.

Okay, there's a whole Sunday and JARED PADALECKI left, and I am getting to it. I just feel like I've been typing forever and wanted to post what's done so far. I'll edit. Unless it's already too long or something.

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