The Expo - Squeeing (part 1) and piccies

[kethni]

 ETA I was unclear.: I had a FANTASTIC time and being touched up (lol) was great. Just rather nerveshredding :)

I'll try not to repeat too much what I've already said. I'll try. I can't post it all here so this is Friday and part of Saturday. And pictures.

 

Friday

 

My trip started on Friday. It must be said that it did not start well at all. In fact, Friday was pretty much a horrible day from start to finish:

 

I accidentally left work too early because this is the first time since my reduced hours that I’ve taken a half day. Sadly, I am pretty much innumerate and apparently incapable of realising that 7:30 + 3 hours is 10:30, not 10:00. Gah. So I had to phone Ralf and tell him I was an idiot.

 

I got to the airport in plenty of time and waited. And waited. And waited. First my flight was delayed by 30 mins, then 60 mins, then 90 mins. Apparently this was due to some numpty letting off a noxious chemical – pepper spray it turned out to be – in London City airport which then shut down the airport for 2 hours.

 

It was now eight in the evening. Because the flight had been delayed so long, they weren’t allowed to give us dinner. At this point, I hadn't eaten since lunch time when I’d had a brie and sundried tomato toasted sandwich. ‘Hungry’ was not stretching a point.

 

When I got out of the airport, I grabbed a cab. For the 5 minute journey the cabbie was chuntering away about how he’d been waiting 40 mins and there I was and I could have got the bus! Why hadn't I got the bus? It wasn’t worth his time. When I didn’t give him a tip he muttered ‘thanks for nothing’ at which point I got miffed and said I didn’t pay extra for complaints and whinging, thanks.

 

He wound down the window and screamed abuse at me as I walked across the road to the hotel. I may have yelled back telling him to grow up and sod off. Maybe. I’m admitting nothing.

 

I got in the hotel planning to eat, have a bath, get online to post my votes.

 

The restaurant is closed – I wolfed down the complimentary oat biscuits, there is no bath just a bizarre podlike shower, and I cannot get online as you can only pay by visa for internet in your room and the voucher machine for downstairs isn’t working.

 

Sigh.

 

Saturday

 

Oh Saturday, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Saturday made up for Friday and far, far besides.

 

I got in at silly o’clock because I’ve been to these things before and arriving 30 mins before opening is a sure fire way to ensure that by the time you get in you won’t be getting anything signed before midnight. I felt distinctly underdressed surrounded by the amazing outfits being sported by the anime/manga people. Although one of the stewards was very impressed with my T-shirt and told me she was also a Grunny fan and that I MUST do a photo shoot with him. Well, if you say so random stranger than of course I must.

 

I got in early, did I quick sweep to scope the place out, and headed to get my smiley’s and virtual tickets. Because I got one smiley, wandered away, and came back from another 5 mins later I had number 8 and number 74. In 5 mins they’d sold almost 70 autographs for the Heroes panel. They had a sign up saying the signing started at 10:30, it was now about 09:30 so I joined the queue. I seem to spend 90% of conventions queuing up…

 

Signing’s never start on time. Never, ever, ever. People muttering on either side of me, get used to it. It’s the way of things and not because the actors overslept. I don’t think. A couple of people asked where I got my T-shirt from, hee J The panel arrived and we started moving. I could see the table but my camcorder was lodged in my bag somewhere, never mind. By the time I was a few people away from the front I was seriously suffering with my nerves. Anxiety and associated stuff runs in my family but I haven’t really had an anxiety attack since I was a teenager. Now though I was shaking and trying not to drop everything. I didn’t really like the photo’s they had out and I was hoping to have one of my own signed. I was rehearsing that in my head when Greg looked up and saw my T-shirt.

 

“That is AWESOME!”

 

Yay? I was completely thrown. I was stammering, still shaking, and unable to open the damn box with the photographs in. I’m sure I was a totally painful sight to behold. I managed to ask if I could use my own photo, yes, Greg had to prompt me if I wanted it personalising, yes please here’s a piece of paper with my name on it. All done, time to crawl off into a hole. Right?

 

“Can I sign the shirt?”

 

You… can do whatever you want Mr Grunberg, Sir.

 

Of course there were a few uh… logistical issues since I was of course wearing the t-shirt and I’m not… well it wasn’t a flat surface and he didn’t want to embarrass himself (as he put it). Not like I was going to be embarrassed. I was already too much of a basket case to worry about a little thing like being accidentally groped. In front of hundreds of people. He signed, I scuttled off.

 

I ran screaming down to the business centre, paid £1 for 5 mins computer access (RIP OFF!), and spilled SQUEEEE all over my poor Flist.

 

And then, I had to go back to get the other autograph. This was a much longer process than before. It was a little later, the queue was longer, and CNBC (?) was interviewing the actors. Interview while they were trying to sign autographs. Oh and they were standing right at the front of queue to do this. So if you see them, on CNBC, being asked inane questions like ‘Why in a credit crunch are people still watching Heroes?’ and ‘Why is Heroes more popular than ever?’ (Um, ratings are down aren’t they? Even though I love this series) I was stood about 10 inches away. Actually, it’s interesting to see how they all treated the reporter and cameraman differently: the puppeteer asked their names, which nobody else did. The German was very interested in the technical stuff. Vortex man looked only marginally less nervous than me. Brea was ‘like SO excited to be here!’. And Grunny did the whole ‘CNBC! Part of the family!, shtick. He shook her hand completely differently to the way he shook hands with the cameraman and all the men he did shoots and signings for. The guys all got a standard handshake between equals; palm flat and facing theirs. The reporter though got an almost palm up hand. Yes, I have books about body language. Is the submissive handshake because she was a reporter? A woman? Because he was thinking about kissing her hand? Was he putting her at her ease? This enquiring mind wants to know.

 

By this time, I’d been standing by the reporter and steward for almost fifteen minutes. Now, I was actually okay with that. It was interesting watching them do the interviews and frankly, I was still very nervous and not entirely unhappy at a chance to take some deep breaths. The steward, however, was understandably antsy about all the people backing up while Greg took the opportunity to have a chat with a couple of completely star struck little kids who were leaning over the barrier. They corralled him back to his seat just as his helper handed him a coffee.

 

So he’s just sat down with his coffee and they shove me forward. Embarrassing. Especially as there was some problem with the coffee. He wanted a cup of ice cubes for it. (Euw, but whatever). So I’m standing there like an idiot while he’s sorting out his coffee.

 

“You came back!” he said, looking up at me, opening packets of sweetener.

 

Er, yeah. I’m back.

 

“So what’s up with you?”

 

Derrrr, what?

 

There followed an excruciating conversation whereby he tried to make polite chit-chat with me while fixing his coffee. Despite this, I was marginally less terrified this time. I had almost escaped with my gifty autograph when…

 

“Is the same picture on the back?”

 

Kind of. I turned around to show him.

 

“Well I gotta sign that!”

 

It seemed to go on for a loooong time. I was starting to wonder what the heck he was writing. It must have just been my imagination though

.

My Saturday and Sunday photographs! If you use them (unlikely but...) please credit

 

Comments

[tiptoe39.livejournal.com]

:hyperventilates:

HIS DIMPLES ARE MADE OF GOLD AND WIN. Oh God. <3

[kethni.livejournal.com]

I knowwwwww!

[original-tinks.livejournal.com]

Lol!!! I think he just wanted to molest you all over =D
I hope you enjoyed it!!!

[kethni.livejournal.com]

I wish :D
I enjoyed the photoshoot too, but that's a different story :P

[original-tinks.livejournal.com]

It was probbaly harrowing being that close to him and having him touch you but he's only human!!

And you should have enjoyed it...it may never happen again...

[kethni.livejournal.com]

I was thrilled, afterwards! :D

[lea1santome.livejournal.com]

On Friday, you can remove from the list, and only remember the weekend.

I was glad for you, I'm happy.

It's amazing that you asked to sign the shirt. "Of course."

Brea asked him to autograph.

El viernes lo puedes quitar de la lista, y sólo recordar el fin de semana.

Me alegró por ti, estoy contenta.

Es alucinante que te pidiera firmar la camiseta. "Pues claro".

Le pediste autografo a Brea.

[bonniesrg.livejournal.com]

Haha How much do I love that you put that cabbie in his place. It's his job to wait if he want's to make money from fairs and it's always busy near the airport.

Your so lucky to get Grunny gropage:D

[kethni.livejournal.com]

I didn't make him wait for 40 minutes! Grumble, grumble.

Grunny Gropage :D Best present ever, heh.

[bonniesrg.livejournal.com]

5 or 40 mins, doesn't matter. You adding to what he's going to earn so he should be happy with the business.

And he can hardly expect prompt arrival of his passengers at an airport, that's just stupid.

And the cheek of him expecting a tip after him moaning and all.lol