* The Jen Network *

My ACEN Adventure in 2003!

PT 3. Wherin the rabbit learns that foxes do not really like cabbage and the duck discovers that time is of the essence. ... Yeah. Interlude: Chicago drivers are insane. They *do* use their turn signals, so that's good, but half of them drive like snails and the other half are jack-rabbits! I was either tailgating people or had someone sitting on my bumper. And man, you have to know where the toll roads are and what lane you're gonna want, because they don't care if you suddenly find yourself in the "semi's only" speedpass lane and need to get across to the manual ones. And they really need to learn how to put up highway signs. It is nice that they have a sign to warn you that a lane in the MIDDLE OF THE ROAD is about to end (violently - with a median, grass, and everything) but they could at least do it MORE than 150 feet away from the end! Or at least say something like "lane ends in one blink of an eye"! yeesh. Anywho. Back to the story! Many exchanges of 15cents later, I make it to the Hyatt (only two wrong turns, mostly due to improperly marked exits. *dares anyone to challenge statements made and claims implied*) and pay 10$ to park the car. Once I've parked (Roof. Always go for the roof if you're in a strange parking garage. Easy to remember when you're woozy from too much pocky and if you and your teen-aged friends get chased by a corny evil villain, hey! Whaddaya know! You're already at the highest place you can get to! Time to change into those heels! *ahem*) Yes. I get the car parked and decide that the comfy driving shirt I'm wearing really isn't suitable for human eyes. So I change it, grab a cold hot dog, stuff my fandom stuffs and a granola into my Powerpuff Girls backpack, lock the car (!!) and head for the hotel and the con. I get inside and am surrounded by the love that is mine for the Hyatt O'Hare. My golden memories of Visions succumb quickly, however, to the youthful sounds of clicking cameras and squeeling Sailor Scouts stalking and glomping various Vash cosplayers. The corners seem filled with napping neko-eared people, and the halls are lined with Persocons and lonely fanboys holding signs offering pocky in exchange for hugs, all of which suddenly push away the Hyatt-induced longings for long knitted scarves, fedoras, and little tin dogs. I sigh a silent salute to my dead past, and head to the information desk to ask about the con registration. I'm directed to a rather long line, so I decide to first call MP and let her know I'm okay and in Chicago. She's not answering her phone at work, so I stumble through an awkward conversation with the department secretary who can't get it through her skull that "I'm at the convention but I don't have a room yet. I'll call later tonight. Don't worry." Finally I get her to understand that I'm in Chicago and I'll call MP later. Then I go back to the line where I'm informed that the position I've taken up - at the end of the line that's conventiently stopped at the front entrance to the hotel - is not the end of the line. In fact, the line is merely stopped at the front entrance to the hotel and indeed starts AGAIN outside the hotel doors, then continues down the street and AROUND THE CORNER! Thank GOD I brought rations! ~~Join us next time when we'll hear Petey say, "Gee, Mister. Are you sure that's gonna fit? It's gotten awfully big" ~~ Or maybe I'll just tell ya more about the con... hmmmm decisions, decisions.

Part Four: I just love a man in a sailor suit! Part Three: Peaceful Chicago Driving Part Two: "On the road again" Part One: I have to pay HOW MUCH?!?!!