Last night at the TequilaCon in my dreams, I got to meet a whole bunch of wonderful people I’ve admired on the web for quite a long while. They were just as wonderful as I’d imagined them. I think I even met some people who don’t actually exist in real life, and they were wonderful, too!
There were lots of French pastries and beer and even a hot tub. Since no one had come prepared for the hot tub with a bathing suit, we all stripped down naked. For the record, we are all gorgeous naked, at least in my dreams.
I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you in real life, but I swear I was there! I am too much of a lame-o to actually go up to someone I’ve never met and ask, “Are you here for TequilaCon?” What if they weren’t? I was surprised I didn’t see anyone I recognized. I thought maybe after a beer I’d find some guts but then I just felt like a loser drinking a beer alone when my kinsfolk were likely sitting right next to me without my ever knowing it. So I got back on the subway and cried the whole way home.
The TequilaCon in my dreams was so great though, and I think that is how I would like to remember you all. Of course, you can never really know the validity of dreams like those, particularly since I also had a dream that there was a rhinoceros running around my front yard and a little four-year-old blonde-haired girl ate it alive. But. We take what we can get sometimes.
Perhaps next year we should consider a signal so that stupid people like me can find the fun, like maybe a six-foot-tall bottle of tequila or red carnations or smoke signals. Just a thought.