Thursday, February 14, 2008

Do you know the way to San Jose? Cuz I do.

In a few scant hours I'll be hopping a plane to PantheaCon, an annual, gi-normous NeoPagan conference in San Jose, CA. I'm so excited that I may need to pour a bottle of water over my head to keep my hair from actually bursting into flame.

The weeks leading up to my departure have been rather trying for Jack. Normally, he only has to put up with me going on about obscure, esoteric Pagan topics. However, for the past ten days he's had to put up with me going on about obscure, esoteric Pagans--specifically the various authors who have signed on as guest speakers, many of whom I've idolized since the mid 90's.

"Oh my GOD!" I'll scream, looking over the workshop schedule.

"What is it?! What's wrong?!" Jack will yell, running into the room.

"Luisah Teish is giving a lecture on the erotic folktales of the African Diaspora!"

"What are you talking about?" He'll ask. "Who is Luisah Teish? Why are you screaming?"

"You know, Luisah Teish!" I'll say, waving my hands in the air in an attempt to phyiscally jog his memory. "Remember the time I made you watch that documentary on occult practices in America? And between the segment on Feminist Wicca and the segment on the metaphysical art of H.R. Giger, there was a 30-second clip of a woman talking about how, when she was a little girl, her mother used to scrub the floor with holy water enhanced with drops of perfume and urine while praying to St. Anthony?"

"Um... no."

"Well, that's her! That's Luisah Teish! And she and I are going to be in the same room! Do you know what this means?!"

"I guess it means that you'll be in the same room as this person I don't know?"

"YES!!! I gotta go pick out an outfit. Luisah Teish! Squeal!"

And then I'll scamper away, leaving him alone with his inner monologue and Baptist upbringing.

Overall, Jack's being very supportive about my trip, primarily because he's looking forward to four straight days of being able to play Nintendo games without interruption. At the same time, I have not allowed him access to the conference itinerary. I'd prefer to avoid the meaningful looks he'd give me if he found out one of the events is called "Magical Experience or Mental Illness?"

Anyhoo, I'm out of here. I'll call you when I get to the hotel, and I'll bring you back lots of souvenirs. Promise.

3 comments:

Dr. E. Delicious said...

One of my few gifts in life is the ability to pick out things that are mental illnesses, as opposed to something else. Or, as I like to put it, "retarded in a way submarines can't fathom."

Evn said...

This coming from the man who once kidnapped his best friend's girlfriend, drove her to Louisiana in the middle of the night, and threatened to make her pick cotton.

Physician, heal thyself.

Have Suspenders, Will Travel said...

That was UNQUESTIONABLY a magical experience.