I really ought to stop reading con reports

[figmo]

It rarely fails to happen:

1. I go to a con.
2. I feel good for having gone to the con and having had a good time.
3. I read the con reports, see myself totally absent, and get really depressed.

This continuously amazes me, given that I've done some things over the years I thought were highly conspicuous. I once coordinated the smuggling of a sousaphone into OVFF. I have run cons. I have done concerts complete with costume changes and choreography. I've tried to make a sanitary napkin with wings fly while on stage. I've brought an insufferably cute dog to cons.

This time even the dog didn't get mentioned.

Comments

[koshmom.livejournal.com]

I understand entirely. I've gone to many parties where picture taking is occurring, and out of 100 parties, I've only seen myself in retrospective pictures once or twice, and that was "there's my hair" or "there's my arm".

I've also gone to parties, and spoken with the host for like a half hour. Afterwards I was told by the same host that I "should have attended" the party, that I should get out more.

I am invisible and unrememberable.

[figmo.livejournal.com]

Ya know, I remember you having the same problem when you were living out here in California. I remembered seeing you at parties and could cite with frightening clarity stuff about conversations we've had (hey, you're fun and interesting to talk to), but others never noticed either one of us.