On Heroes And Hats
I must tell you this, Gentle Reader. It actually happened over a week ago, but I've been trying to put my thoughts into cohesive sentences since then. I think I'm just gonna let a picture speak a thousand words:
That's right. That's my two leading men, T and AW. And your old friend, Patwoman, grinning like a mental institution escapee next to Adam. Ha!
First, let me say, he was very nice. He called me "dear" several times. (And, luckily, he didn't mention any of our past adventures to T.) Second, (I caution you, this may get a little weird...) he was wearing a cuddly sweater. Seriously. I brushed against it as we were getting into place on the photographer's mark and I thought "Mmm. Cashmere."
This was a great trip, I have to say. A wonderful birthday present from T--Comicon Mid-Ohio. We stayed in the same hotel as all the celebs, btw, but I didn't see any of them until we actually went to the Con.
Not that I didn't try.
Understand: I am, deep down, a hick. I know you all think I'm smooth and cool and rapier-sharp, but some people just turn me stupid. Like, I-like-eggs-duh stupid. Celebs, mainly. But I could get that way with a good-looking shirtless guy with rock-hard abs, I'm pretty sure.
So, as T was checking in to the hotel, I was scanning the lobby for familiar faces. (None.) And when we went to breakfast at the hotel restaurant, I kept my eyes open for You Know Who. Then our waiter, noticing my Bat-shirt, informed me that my beloved Adam had just vacated the table next to us only minutes before we arrived.
Holy disappointment, Patwoman!
But, have no fear, Gentle Reader. I did get the chance to talk to The Batster (after standing in a crazy long line)! There was a sign that said No Pictures, but you know how I am about following the rules when they get in my way.
Here he is with the lovely hat I knitted for him. I was so happy with this hat. I fussed with it forever (you know that) to make sure it was perfect. Sigh, Gentle Reader, I have probably not knit a more evenly stitched hat in my life. And it was so clever, with its little bat-ears. Sadly, he didn't try it on right then.
He said, "Thank you, dear. It will be cold tonight and I will wear it." I think he was actually a little thrown that I gave him something. Or maybe he was just a little afraid of my incoherent babbling. I don't even know what I said. Odds are, it was something I-like-eggs-duh stupid.
T's advice, btw, before we went to this con was "The more you say, the crazier you're gonna sound." And well, I probably talked a lot. Yep. A lot. Grabbed his hand to shake it (again, probably threw him off because he was up on this raised platform booth with a table between us and I, being only 5 feet tall, had to step up onto the platform and reach pretty far over the table to execute a proper handshake) and held onto his hand while I spewed about seventeen diferent kinds of fan-girl adoration.
How embarassing. Oh well. I keep telling myself I'm probably not the weirdest fan he's come across over the years.
Probably.
I-like-eggs-duh.
That's right. That's my two leading men, T and AW. And your old friend, Patwoman, grinning like a mental institution escapee next to Adam. Ha!
First, let me say, he was very nice. He called me "dear" several times. (And, luckily, he didn't mention any of our past adventures to T.) Second, (I caution you, this may get a little weird...) he was wearing a cuddly sweater. Seriously. I brushed against it as we were getting into place on the photographer's mark and I thought "Mmm. Cashmere."
This was a great trip, I have to say. A wonderful birthday present from T--Comicon Mid-Ohio. We stayed in the same hotel as all the celebs, btw, but I didn't see any of them until we actually went to the Con.
Not that I didn't try.
Understand: I am, deep down, a hick. I know you all think I'm smooth and cool and rapier-sharp, but some people just turn me stupid. Like, I-like-eggs-duh stupid. Celebs, mainly. But I could get that way with a good-looking shirtless guy with rock-hard abs, I'm pretty sure.
So, as T was checking in to the hotel, I was scanning the lobby for familiar faces. (None.) And when we went to breakfast at the hotel restaurant, I kept my eyes open for You Know Who. Then our waiter, noticing my Bat-shirt, informed me that my beloved Adam had just vacated the table next to us only minutes before we arrived.
Holy disappointment, Patwoman!
But, have no fear, Gentle Reader. I did get the chance to talk to The Batster (after standing in a crazy long line)! There was a sign that said No Pictures, but you know how I am about following the rules when they get in my way.
Here he is with the lovely hat I knitted for him. I was so happy with this hat. I fussed with it forever (you know that) to make sure it was perfect. Sigh, Gentle Reader, I have probably not knit a more evenly stitched hat in my life. And it was so clever, with its little bat-ears. Sadly, he didn't try it on right then.
He said, "Thank you, dear. It will be cold tonight and I will wear it." I think he was actually a little thrown that I gave him something. Or maybe he was just a little afraid of my incoherent babbling. I don't even know what I said. Odds are, it was something I-like-eggs-duh stupid.
T's advice, btw, before we went to this con was "The more you say, the crazier you're gonna sound." And well, I probably talked a lot. Yep. A lot. Grabbed his hand to shake it (again, probably threw him off because he was up on this raised platform booth with a table between us and I, being only 5 feet tall, had to step up onto the platform and reach pretty far over the table to execute a proper handshake) and held onto his hand while I spewed about seventeen diferent kinds of fan-girl adoration.
How embarassing. Oh well. I keep telling myself I'm probably not the weirdest fan he's come across over the years.
Probably.
I-like-eggs-duh.
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