suffering the teasing
Okay, let me explain that although most of my friends read my journal at some point during their work week, they aren’t too heavily involved in the entire thing. One look at the forum and you know that mostly they read without talking back. That’s fine.
In fact, I just found out that my father reads this page every day when he’s at work. Hi, Dad. You should send an email every once in a while. I miss you. Hope you’re feeling well. I love you.
Part of me has a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t want me to know that he’s been reading. He’s just saving it all up for one day when he says, “I would like some cash for those stories, since I contributed.” Either that or one day he’s going to go story by story to tell me which parts I got wrong. The “myth of pam,” as he likes to call it.
Now. For about a year I’ve been confirmed to speak at Journalcon. For all of you non-journallers reading, this is going to be a convention where people that love and/or keep journals get together to discuss the community, the ins and outs of journalling, and basically meet the people that we’ve been reading for (sometimes) years. But if you’re not a journaller, and you’re one of my friends, that explanation is usually met with the response, “Like Journal Camp?”
That’s the nice way of putting it. Usually I get, “That is so gay.”
And okay, it sounds strange, but I’ve seen conventions for weaker topics. Seriously. But, this does nothing to curb the ribbing, and Eric finds the entire thing quite funny.
In South Carolina to pass the time, we began creating radio spots for Journalcon. Eric loves that it’s being held in Pittsburgh (not as much as his mother does, since I’ll get to have a nice visit with her) and for some reason keeps shifting the location of the place to the “David L. Lawrence Convention Center” because that’s funnier than the hotel where the event is actually located.
Whenever I get bummed I ask Eric to do a Journalcon radio spot. It always cheers me up.
And because I begged him, he recorded a few for all of you. Here are my two favorites:
Extended dance remix— my favorite.
It never stops. The teasing. There’s one guy who I pass in the comedy club every weekend. Every time he sees me he starts writing on his hand and saying, “Dear Diary. I really hate pamie. I don’t know why, but I just get filled with rage every time I see her.”
Sometimes when it gets quiet, Matt will look at me and say in his dreamy voice, “Dear Diary. Matt is the funniest person I ever met. How did I get along without him? Oh, I said something really funny today, but it wasn’t as funny as what Matt said.”
And now, Journalcon. Maybe if it was called “Bad Ass Mofos” I’d get more props. But no, it’s called Journalcon. I had nothing to do with it.
Not to be confused with Squishycon, coming to a city near you. We’ve done Austin and now Atlanta. Come on Akron, Albuquerque and Albany– where’s your Squishy spirit?