The Friday one is even better:
Freddy Krueger trying on sunglasses is my favorite. Watch allll the way to the end to see John's favorite; he still cracks up at it every. time. (If you're curious what the heck that is, it's a 3D printing booth where they scan you on a giant turntable.)
There wasn't too much cosplay Thursday and Friday, so it was nice to play with video a bit more. Those are almost entirely John's work, but I did enjoy pointing things out and suggesting a bunch of shots for him. (Like the sunglasses scene, bahahahaa.) I'm tempted to try a little myself sometime, although my first love is still traditional photography.
PANICKY PERSONAL STUFF AHEAD:
Behind the scenes I had a terrible start to the con, going into it already a bit ill with a bunch of health stuff I won't bore you with. Needless to say I chose... poorly... when it came to self-care, and then I had a terrible panic episode Thursday afternoon. John and I plopped down on the floor at the nearest wall, where I sat and shook like a twitchy marionette for about 20 minutes.
When I could finally stand again, I clutched John's arm and prayed I'd reach the car (which of course was a million miles away) without dying or otherwise embarrassing myself in front of everyone.
That night I considered canceling the rest of the weekend, I was so stinking scared. My mind went wild concocting every awful scenario - what if I was dying? What if I collapsed in front of everyone? What if my legs stopped working again when we were miles from the car? - and I felt tiny and weak and incapable of trying anything ever again.
At the same time I'd managed to hurt my shoulder while hang-gliding in Belize,* and the pain, coupled with the fact that I couldn't do simple things like get dressed on my own, quickly turned me into a big ol' whiny baby. (John will back me up on this.) I just wanted to give up and hide at home with my ice packs and my Frasier reruns.
I'd put all of this on my Instagram Story, though, and the messages were pouring in. Messages of support, of love, of permission to hide, permission to try, permission to do whatever the heck I needed to. There were stories from folks who needed to hear that someone else was struggling just then, that they weren't alone. Then there were people who were just impressed I was talking about it at all, like it was OK to talk about - which it IS, dangit.
Anyway, I'm not saying that fixed me. Not alone. Fixing also required time, rest, and proper medication. But by the next morning I felt strong enough to at least pack. Then I felt strong enough for the hour ride to the hotel. Then check-in. And finally, I thought maybe I could walk to the convention floor - you know, just for a bit.
John, meanwhile, had transformed into the perfect mix of loving husband and nagging mother, requiring me to sit and "at least eat SOMETHING" every two hours. He even had an alarm on his phone, for goodness' sake. Between that and my Xanax, we got through Friday and Saturday panic-free, and by Saturday afternoon I was even having fun again.
Tomorrow is the last day of MegaCon, so I'm hoping to finish strong. But even if I don't, even if the panic monster breaks free again, at least I know the way there and back again.
Anyhoo, stay tuned for more fun photos, gang. I'm off to to take my meds and get some sleep.
Love you guys.