|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
Visions 1999 Part Thirteen (Good god, is this thing ever going to end?) I want to apologize right now to James Marsters. I absolutely adore the man, probably ten times more than before this weekend – he was sweet and nice and gracious, everything you want your idol to be. But I think I must've just gotten comfortable around him – not really a bad thing – ‘cause the second I saw Nicholas Brendon standing there, whooooosh all the air jumped out of my lungs and I just kind of fazed out of everything but the sight of Nicky, standing in the doorway with his bag over his shoulder, hair all disheveled, his glasses on (yeah, okay, a big turn-on for me), and a tired smile on his face. What was he wearing? Beats me. All I could focus on was that smile. (I do remember the yellow sneakers though. I took a picture of them – just them – later on.) "Hey," he said to the room in general as he made his way in. I didn't
move a muscle. My eyes followed him as long as they could without moving my head, and then
he was behind me, talking with the event people about his plane trip. I stared straight
ahead; I don't think I was breathing, ‘cause I started to get a little dizzy,
and that little voice in my head was chanting, o my god o my god o my god. (please
let it just have been in my head!) I heard him say something about
his plane leaving at 8:30, and someone replied that yes, James was on the same plane, and
they'd make it with no problem. Then there was some bustling about behind me, as
Nicky dropped his bag and talked to Chris and stretched a bit. James excused himself, then
he and Nick did the big hug thing - "Hey man, I didn't know you were gonna be
here" - then he headed into an adjacent room. Chris followed him, then turned back
and called James into the room as well. (I don't remember this, but
apparently Nancy does. I don't think my brain was getting any oxygen.) The little chant in my head changed to breathe, breathe, breathe. I gasped, then turned to Nancy. "I so don't believe this. That was NICKY!" Like she'd had no idea. We shared a couple more o my gods, then noticed the escort who'd taken our picture still standing there, and looking suspiciously like she thought our time was up. I'd known this moment would come, but the disappointment was still there. But hey, that's life. Then I noticed my little Spike on the table, and grabbed it like a lifeline. "He hasn't signed it yet," I pointed out to our warden. She nodded her head and settled against the door, momentarily appeased, and surprisingly ready for conversation. "You know, we were not prepared for this. We've never seen anything like this." Nancy and I were – I think understandably – confused. She continued, "We've done this convention for years, and you know, you have your Star Trek fans –" "Old pros," I supplied. "Right," she said. "But the teenagers out there, that's not something we usually get." I'm willing to bet money she's never seen Buffy. James and Chris came back into the room, James apologizing for leaving us. "Sorry about that, I haven't seen him in awhile." He sat back down. I'm not exactly sure what happened next. We might have started talking again, or James might have gone back to trying to figure the toy thing out. I'm really fuzzy here, which really sucks, ‘cause I think these few moments may be gone for good. When Nick came back into the room, I think James was talking to Chris. At least I hope he was, ‘cause at that point my brain started malfunctioning again – or maybe it had been malfunctioning ever since Nicky arrived, it would explain my lapse in memory. Nick was moving around the room, doing this or that, and finally I just couldn't take it anymore. I bent down slightly to James, held my arm against my chest as I tried to discreetly point to his colleague, and whispered, "Could I just shake his hand?" I am just so shameless.
|
 |
Visions 1999 Relevant Links |