So like ever since I started stealing Lord of the Ring fantasy clone books off of my older brother’s bookshelf (just because he told me not to) I’ve been a sci-fi geek.

And truthfully, it’s been like a dirty little secret. I didn’t really talk about that stuff with most of my friends in high school. Even though a friend of a friend turned out to be a science fiction writer , I never felt part of the group that he hung out with. In college, I was embarassed about my reading material until I found chavala.

And I’ve probably said all this before, but let me also mention that my husband made fun of me for watching Buffy, or knowing the names of the hobbits in the Lord of the Rings, and that I would never, never talk about that stuff with other mommies on the Beaverton playgrounds.

The closest I ever came was when I was in a coffee shop and found a long-haired, thin guy reading part of a Phillip Pullman trilogy.

All of this is leading up to the fact that I went to my very first convention, EVER, last night.

And it was so cool.

I walked into the Marriot and there were renaissance-dressed people, people dressed as pirates, guys with scraggly beards and long hair, girls dressed in school uniforms with cat ears, and klingons.

I almost wanted to kiss a klingon.

But I didn’t. Because, you know, that’s just a little weird.

And I can’t really explain why I felt so strongly, other than using years of isolation in Japan as an excuse, but I think it had to do with embracing a part of myself I often feel like I hide.

So my “squee” est moment so far is having the courage to go up to Frank Wu in the hall and thank him for illustrating a story from four years ago and when he checked my badge he actually REMEMBERED me and the name of the story. I was so pleased. And really, I did love his illustration of “Losing Memories.”

just a little fan girl gushing.

I *heart* Portland.

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