The Visit of OMG

I'm writing this outside (to type up later), in unseasonal heat, in a rocking chair a few hundred metres from an Indiana cornfield. And I have a cold. I have somehow acquired a banging headache, clogged-up sinuses and a distinct feeling that the earth is shifting under my feet, all since yesterday. And really, I don't care. I don't care about anything at all. Yesterday (er, two days ago now) was just marvellous, wonderful, I-run-out-of-adjectives fantastic. (I think that was why we were calling it the Visit of OMG - because only "OMG!111!!!" fully conveys the nuances of the emotion. OMG!) In fact, in some ways I don't want to write about it, because that means it's over. But I think I should.

Anyway, where was I? Yesterday, at quarter to seven in the morning my grandmother sat on my feet and inquired, in Hindi, if I were going to Chicago. I said no and went back to sleep. I'd been asleep about four hours. It was ridiculous. About ten minutes later I was running around the house in a ridiculous panic, making coffee with one hand and doing everything else with the other, and about ten minutes after that, Nupur woke up serenely and demanded to come to the airport if that meant there would be vanilla lattes all round.

In fact, let's skip neatly over the bit where my family are off their collective nut and on to the bit where I arrive in Chicago to the sight of gamesiplay and the_acrobat and a large banner with "O*M*G" on it, together with a small blobby depiction of a crabcake. Labelled, because as Leigh said, "it looks like excrement."

It did a bit. OMG. OMG. It was so exciting. We piled ourselves onto a subway train and it didn't stop being completely awesome and surreal. The surreal bit is how you make the switch between people you know online and those same people in the flesh. I mean, I've known Leigh and Meredith since the summer of 2002, and LJ is a peculiarly intimate medium; I suppose it doesn't have to be, but if you use your LJ like I do (and Leigh does) as an ongoing commentary on your own life, then four years is enough time to know each other very well, and it's also a very long time to be planning to meet some day. Hence the complete lack of coherence at explaining how undyingly awesome this trip was.

One conclusion I rapidly reached: we are all three very bad at actually planning things. And another: Leigh's apartment is clearly built over a Hellmouth or some other site of heat-producing demonic activity. It is INFERNALLY HOT. The rest of Chicago was wet and grey. Possibly to escape the heat, we decided to go to the aquarium. I'm not entirely sure about the logic behind this, especially as the last time I had a day to kill in a city with friends, Claire and I ended up on the South Bank, and yes, we went to the London Aquarium, but there was some logic.

Perhaps there wasn't logic behind the nice people at the Shedd Aquarium deciding to decorate their main entrance with a thirty-foot inflatable Komodo dragon. No, really. It contributed to the ever-increasing factor of awesome.

(Er, I don't use the word "awesome" as a general thing, because I can't pronounce it. But all of this was SO DAMN AWESOME that I find myself left with no other choice.)

On the way there, we decided that Snakes On A Plane is undoubtedly million-dollar crackfic, and that there is nothing wrong with this in the slightest. Also, Leigh managed to ask, "How's the bad sex scene?" out loud on public transport. For teh win, yes! I explained how bad it is - very! - and then we talked fandom, and exchanged writing woes. (I also had a bit of a go at explaining why DW fandom is batshit crazy, and it amuses me that exactly as I was saying this, the teh_commune wank was exploding many time zones to the east. Batshit crazy, yes. Also, I am intrigued by my mystery anonymous admirer, who uses every anon meme to complain about that insanely annoying bitch loneraven. I am not a BNF. You can do better than me. And, also, I hate hathy_col. Bloody annoying bitch with scary hair. This is the longest and most pointless digression ever.)

Talking of being a BNF, I was once. Back in M*A*S*H fandom, Leigh and Meredith and the other Meredith and Susan and about a dozen other people were the people to know. That is to say, we were the big fish in a small pond that didn't actually have any small fish. And OMG I got to talk about old-school M*A*S*H fandom on Chicago public transportation! And ditto OMG on the fic writing woes, because it dawned on me yesterday that barring amchau, I write fic very much solo. I have lots of close fannish friends, but very few close fic-writing friends, and there is a difference. Meredith was trying to explain the mechanics of pairing Remus Lupin with John Sheppard, and this is the sort of thing that deserves extensive consideration.

The aquarium, yes! It is amazingly fun, queuing underneath an inflatable Komodo dragon. My ophidiophobia does not kick in as long as things have legs - I don't mind lizards or eels but have trouble with snakes, worms and that specific species of lizard that is, er, legless - and we looked at lots of organisms that do, indeed, have legs, which was good. Also, sea otters. Sea otters are the cutest things in the entire world. They sort of peer at you and look all sad 'n' lonesome and then they somersault past you at a great rate of knots. I want one. I would call it Moony and keep it in Leigh's bathtub so I could come and visit it every so often.

There is something very, very disconcerting about seafood restaurants in the vicinity of an aquarium. We ended up avoiding that whole issue, and instead having lunch in a small place that looked like someone had tried to build a diner inside a hotel lobby. Food was good, though. In fact, Chicago in general is a lovely city. It was wet, but everything was green - there were trees and flowers and water features dotted around the usual urban details - and strangely for Labor Day, it was quiet. There wasn't much traffic, there weren't many people, walking through the city was almost like walking through a public park because of the hush. I really liked it. I'd been there before - about ten years ago, at Christmas, and my abiding memory of that time is its being so cold that I crossed the street with my hands over my face against the chill - but I hadn't remembered how nice it was. Which is not to say we couldn't have met anywhere at all and had a fabby time, but that was an unexpected bonus.

The afternoon was spent in Leigh's INFERNALLY HOT apartment, with lots of fans (aha, no pun intended), watching television. Well, sort of - I demanded to be shown Sports Night, because I'm loving TWW so much. (The only downside to this trip to the States is missing it on E4!) Last week I was on the way home from Liverpool with quackaquacka, who described it as "about sports, but in the same way as Charlie's Angels was about law enforcement." And it's ridiculously charming, especially as I was shown the slashiest episode ever. I don't think it's ever been shown in Britain, which is a real shame.

Also, we were celebrating Meredith's birthday early, with cupcakes and British chocolate and a blessed lack of singing. So then comes the bit where we just sort of lay on the floor and talked about cabbbages and kings - actually, about, er, the demon in the basement and William Shatner - and OMG, I have never wanted to leave a place less. One day wasn't enough, it really wasn't. And I've never enjoyed riding on subway trains before - I didn't notice the trains, I didn't notice that the three of us were squished into space meant for two, and I've never minded a flight delay less, either!

Well, there is a story behind that. Upon finding out the flight was delayed, I suggested we get some coffee and sit down somewhere with it. What follows is a clear indication that Starbucks are an evil corporation set to take over the world by fleecing tourists, because Meredith paid for her coffee with Canadian currency and somehow or other got charged eleven dollars for it. This, naturally, is Not On. The thing is, I don't like confrontation. All I know is how to be polite at people. Leigh said, "I don't have to be polite, I'm American." (I threatened to metaquote this.) We went back to the woman and demanded Meredith's money back. She was singularly unhelpful and flounced - well, waddled - off to talk to the manager. Who did not appear for a very, very long time, so we stood there and deliberately got in the way.

And the thing is, you can be American at people - i.e., demand your rights without worrying obessively that you're being some kind of social nuisance - and you can be British - i.e, icily, frostily, we-owned-you-damn-colonials polite - at people, but given the right people, you can do both at the same time. I was pretty sure that we could reduce this woman to a gibbering wreck beneath the tirade of courteous aggression. Which sounds dreadfully uncharitable, but a) you should have seen how much this woman hated us and b) eleven dollars for a cup of coffee. And I was almost disappointed when we never got to employ any of it. Someone stomped down, slapped the twenty Canadian dollars back on the counter without a scrap of apology. But we prevailed! I was terribly proud. The Canadian-British-American invasion of Chicago continues apace.

And my flight was delayed, so I hung around an hour longer than planned, and that was fab too. One day wasn't enough, it really wasn't. Half of it was spent getting over the initial awkward phase, and then there wasn't enough time to discuss everything in the universe and watch lots of television, but we did try. That said, I hugged Leigh and Meredith goodbye at the security check, went through and took off my shoes, as required. Turning around and waving at them before they left was the most depressing thing I have done in years. You guys, we must do this again, we must. Even if we have to commit federal crimes to do it. I miss you both so much right now.

...sigh. OMG. OMG it was so good. And now I am in Indiana, where it is too hot and there are too many cornfields. But. So. Good. OMG. I have carefully rolled up the banner and stowed it away safely. I think I'm going to hang it off my ceiling in Oxford. And every time I say "OMG" from now on, I shall say it wistfully. You guys made netspeak wistful. Such is your power for awesome.