I am never comfortable around "men." I mean, you fannish guys are okay, but you know the "manly men" I am talking about, right? All sports and cars and huntin' and guns and footbawl and leathernecked, sun-scalded, stocky gents with butch haircuts. Today I had to endure and hour and a half with men who made me feel like I was a duck in a crocodile pit. Not that they said or did anything mean to me. I didn't get so much as a dirty look from anyone. I just felt REAL out of place when one of them mentioned motorcycles and everyone got all excited like cavemen before a hunt.
Swear to GOD, one of the guy's ringtones was George Thuroughgood's, "Bad to the Bone."
I have 107 pictures already from this trip, plus a few silent films (my camera doesn't have sound with video capability). Most are okay, although by ego took a beating from someone who left some angry comments in my Flickr account on some previous pictures unrelated to this trip.
I finished reading, "Will the Vampires Please Leave the Lobby? Adventures in Cult Fandom," by Allyson Beatrice. This book is AWESOME. I learned I suffer from "Imposter Syndrome." Everyone should go out and buy a copy, *especially* if you are a Joss Whedon fan.