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and_chocolateOkay, I'm home now, and sober (and no longer hung over) and can regale people with the rest of the stuff that happened on the trip.
Arrived at the convention center at about 7:15-ish. The event started at 7, but there wasn't anything specific going on until the parade (which started at...6:45, I think) got to the convention center, so I wasn't in a hurry to get there too early or anything. There was a huge line to get in, but eventually I was inside the A/B exhibition hall, which was about as long as a football field and twice as wide, where there was a live jazz band playing.
I made my way to my table (a round table that seated ten), where there were already six people sitting down. They turned out to be locals, all about my age, and we got along great from the very start. One gal sprayed me with glitter spray, so I was lovely and sparkly, and they offered me free use of their huge jug o'Stoli and access to their munchies -- mostly sandwiches and a king cake. (In return, I offered up my clove cigarettes to those who wanted to bum them. *g*)
We were seated to the left of the stage (from the perspective of someone standing on the stage, facing the audience), about four tables away, so we couldn't really see anything onstage because of all the equipment, but there were guys with steadi-cams wandering around in front of the stage and it was all being shown on huge flat-screen monitors that were hanging from the (three-story tall) ceiling. There were also stairs exactly in line with our table that led down from the stage and were within spitting distance. Make note of this, as it is important later in the story.
After a bit the jazz band gave way to a cover band who played all my favorites from high school (early 1980s pop like Rick Springfield, etc) and periodically the monitors would show live footage from the parade, where the floats and their riders were getting drenched in the on-again off-again rain. A couple of the gals at the table squee'd with me over Dom and I shared with them that I was at Mardi Gras for the express purpose of meeting Dom and/or Elijah. I also regaled them with tales of the Bacchus parade the night before, and they gave me their email addresses so I could send them the URL of the serenade clip. *g*
When the parade arrived, everyone gathered around the periphery of the barricaded-off indoor parade route and the floats drove through, the riders tossing throws (some that had been reserved for the party attendees only) to the crowd.
Dom's float was, IIRC, first after the police unit and Marine marching band. I didn't catch any of his throws, unfortunately. The next couple of floats had Harry Connick Jr. (who was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and oh. my. god. the arms on that man!), some country singer (Brad Paisley?), and Better Than Ezra.
Once Connick's float had finished making the rounds, he got up on stage and started playing. I wandered a bit, hoping to figure out where they'd settled Dom in, but didn't find anything useful, so I sat back down to listen to the music. I was chatting with my table-mates, so I missed it until whoever was on stage (not sure if it was still Connick or if they'd moved on to another musician at that point) said, "...and that was Dominic Monaghan!"
*blink*
Dom was doing what exactly? I don't know if he was singing, playing an instrument, or just hanging out on the stage, but I immediately grabbed my camera and since I could see that he wasn't leaving via the side of the stage by us, I headed for the far side. Where he was coming down the steps, into a crowd of waiting girls. He walked around a bit, posed for pictures, bestowed hugs and kisses, and chatted, and then was shepherded back onto the stage. Despite my best efforts, I had completely failed to get close enough for anything but one quick picture.
I went back to my table, swearing quietly but hoping that I'd have another chance. With that in mind, I kept an eye on the stairs on our side of the table and about a half hour later I noticed Dom's security escort coming down the stairs, with Dom (wearing his Orpheus cape) in the middle of them.
One of the gals at my table had expressed an interest in meeting him and getting her pic taken with him, so I tapped her on the shoulder and pointed, grabbed my camera and ran. *g* She decided not to follow (which she regretted later *g*), but I went after them all the way across the floor to the raised VIP platform, where two girls got their pic taken with him, one got a kiss, and then he turned to me....
And my brain turned to pudding.
I did manage to ask if I could get a pic with him, hand my camera to one of the girls waiting in line, and put my arm around him.
*is still occasionally thinking "I touched Dom" in a dazed fashion and feeling like a teenage squeeing fangirl*
The pic came off well, and I turned to him and said, "May I have a hug?" I still cannot believe I was ballsy enough to ask; I blame it on the five or so doubles I'd drunk up to that point (mostly on an empty stomach). He smiled and said something like "sure" and hugged me. In my defense, I must say that at least I didn't ask for a kiss, like some of the other girls were doing. Nor offer sexual favors, no matter how tempting the thought. *g*
Anyway, a security guard showed me back down off the VIP riser and I went back to the table and squee'd at the people there, showing the pic around. At which time my brain came back and I thought, "Damn, I didn't take a pen or the DVD liner notes to get his autograph for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
libitina." I borrowed a pen, took my purse (with the liner notes and the mix CDs I'd made for Elijah, just in case I could get up the courage to ask Dom to give them to him) and headed back to the VIP area. Where the security guard flat-out refused to let me up onto the riser, refused to go ask Dom if he'd autograph something, and refused to be at all helpful, despite the sob story of libitina's car accident.
*sigh*
But I tried. And I really can't fault the security guard, who was just doing his job.
So I headed back to my table to put down my things, and then over to the ladies' room. Now this is important because on the way I found a badge on the floor. A badge belonging to one of the employees of the convenrtion center. A badge that gives you special access privileges.
But for the life of me I couldn't figure out a way to convince the security guard (who'd already talked to me once) that I was an employee and should be allowed onto the VIP riser again. Because the employees were all in tuxedoes and I? Was not. So eventually I gave the badge to the guy who was working our table (thereby earning myself karma points, I hope).
So from that point on I mainly sat at the table, talked to people, drank another three or so doubles (still on a mostly empty stomach) and listened to the band. Eventually it was time to go, and I packed up and was walked (stumbled? *g*) back to my hotel by a couple of the girls from the table (and returned the favor by having the concierge call them a taxi). [/Dom portion of the trip]
I managed to post that abbreviated squee and the picture, despite the fact that the room was spinning mightily, and then I went to bed and crashed hard. Only to be awakened about 5 hours later by housekeeping because I'd failed to put the Do Not Disturb sign out. I was unnerved by the fact that things were still wibbly after five hours of sleep, and began to wonder exactly how drunk I had been the night before, as I almost never get a hangover.
And of course, in a demonstration of extreme cleverness, I'd utterly failed to pack any kind of painkiller. At all. *headdesk*
Luckily, the hotel had a little "store" where you could buy essentials like soda, toothbrushes, and Tylenol. So a shower, two Tylenol and two Advil, a light breakfast, and a couple of hours later, I was feeling a little better (though still a little wibbly and...not quite queasy, but just not well) and was busy packing my stuff.
Now technically my flight was supposed to leave at 10am, but I knew (from the moment I'd booked it) that I was going to miss that plane, so when I'd arranged for my transport back to the airport, I'd given them the time of the flight I thought I'd be awake to catch -- 2:30pm. *g* Because it was Fat Tuesday, they told me to call in the morning and check to see that they were going to be able to get to the hotel through the blocked-off streets. I called at 8:30am, before I got into the shower, and they told me it wouldn't be a problem and that the driver would be there at 11:30am, as it stated on my ticket.
At 11:20am, I was standing in front of the hotel with my luggage, waiting.
At 11:45am, I was standing in front of the hotel with my luggage, waiting.
At 11:50am, I was back inside the hotel, with first the desk clerk and then the concierge calling the airport shuttle people, trying to find out where my shuttle was.
At 12:10pm, I was drinking a complimentary coke and waiting in the lobby of the hotel while the concierge was on hold.
At 12:30pm the concierge reached the shuttle service. Who told him that they had been to a different hotel to pick me up. Without bothering to tell me that they'd changed my pick-up location from what was listed on my ticket. So they told him to have me take a taxi to the airport, get a receipt and bring it to their kiosk, and they'd reimburse me for my trip.
At 1:10pm I was set up on standby for the 2:30pm flight and was waiting in line at the shuttle kiosk.
At 1:15pm I was arguing with the kiosk operator.
At 1:20pm I was arguing with the location manager.
At 1:25pm I was accepting $13 (the one-way shuttle fare) as opposed to $32 (the taxi fare) and taking down the phone number of the general manager so that I could get to the gate on time so they didn't give my stand-by seat to the next person on the list.
At 2:15pm I was boarding a direct flight home, still cranky but looking forward to watching The Faculty on my laptop during the flight.
[/end New Orleans trip]
Arrived at the convention center at about 7:15-ish. The event started at 7, but there wasn't anything specific going on until the parade (which started at...6:45, I think) got to the convention center, so I wasn't in a hurry to get there too early or anything. There was a huge line to get in, but eventually I was inside the A/B exhibition hall, which was about as long as a football field and twice as wide, where there was a live jazz band playing.
I made my way to my table (a round table that seated ten), where there were already six people sitting down. They turned out to be locals, all about my age, and we got along great from the very start. One gal sprayed me with glitter spray, so I was lovely and sparkly, and they offered me free use of their huge jug o'Stoli and access to their munchies -- mostly sandwiches and a king cake. (In return, I offered up my clove cigarettes to those who wanted to bum them. *g*)
We were seated to the left of the stage (from the perspective of someone standing on the stage, facing the audience), about four tables away, so we couldn't really see anything onstage because of all the equipment, but there were guys with steadi-cams wandering around in front of the stage and it was all being shown on huge flat-screen monitors that were hanging from the (three-story tall) ceiling. There were also stairs exactly in line with our table that led down from the stage and were within spitting distance. Make note of this, as it is important later in the story.
After a bit the jazz band gave way to a cover band who played all my favorites from high school (early 1980s pop like Rick Springfield, etc) and periodically the monitors would show live footage from the parade, where the floats and their riders were getting drenched in the on-again off-again rain. A couple of the gals at the table squee'd with me over Dom and I shared with them that I was at Mardi Gras for the express purpose of meeting Dom and/or Elijah. I also regaled them with tales of the Bacchus parade the night before, and they gave me their email addresses so I could send them the URL of the serenade clip. *g*
When the parade arrived, everyone gathered around the periphery of the barricaded-off indoor parade route and the floats drove through, the riders tossing throws (some that had been reserved for the party attendees only) to the crowd.
Dom's float was, IIRC, first after the police unit and Marine marching band. I didn't catch any of his throws, unfortunately. The next couple of floats had Harry Connick Jr. (who was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and oh. my. god. the arms on that man!), some country singer (Brad Paisley?), and Better Than Ezra.
Once Connick's float had finished making the rounds, he got up on stage and started playing. I wandered a bit, hoping to figure out where they'd settled Dom in, but didn't find anything useful, so I sat back down to listen to the music. I was chatting with my table-mates, so I missed it until whoever was on stage (not sure if it was still Connick or if they'd moved on to another musician at that point) said, "...and that was Dominic Monaghan!"
*blink*
Dom was doing what exactly? I don't know if he was singing, playing an instrument, or just hanging out on the stage, but I immediately grabbed my camera and since I could see that he wasn't leaving via the side of the stage by us, I headed for the far side. Where he was coming down the steps, into a crowd of waiting girls. He walked around a bit, posed for pictures, bestowed hugs and kisses, and chatted, and then was shepherded back onto the stage. Despite my best efforts, I had completely failed to get close enough for anything but one quick picture.
I went back to my table, swearing quietly but hoping that I'd have another chance. With that in mind, I kept an eye on the stairs on our side of the table and about a half hour later I noticed Dom's security escort coming down the stairs, with Dom (wearing his Orpheus cape) in the middle of them.
One of the gals at my table had expressed an interest in meeting him and getting her pic taken with him, so I tapped her on the shoulder and pointed, grabbed my camera and ran. *g* She decided not to follow (which she regretted later *g*), but I went after them all the way across the floor to the raised VIP platform, where two girls got their pic taken with him, one got a kiss, and then he turned to me....
And my brain turned to pudding.
I did manage to ask if I could get a pic with him, hand my camera to one of the girls waiting in line, and put my arm around him.
*is still occasionally thinking "I touched Dom" in a dazed fashion and feeling like a teenage squeeing fangirl*
The pic came off well, and I turned to him and said, "May I have a hug?" I still cannot believe I was ballsy enough to ask; I blame it on the five or so doubles I'd drunk up to that point (mostly on an empty stomach). He smiled and said something like "sure" and hugged me. In my defense, I must say that at least I didn't ask for a kiss, like some of the other girls were doing. Nor offer sexual favors, no matter how tempting the thought. *g*
Anyway, a security guard showed me back down off the VIP riser and I went back to the table and squee'd at the people there, showing the pic around. At which time my brain came back and I thought, "Damn, I didn't take a pen or the DVD liner notes to get his autograph for
libitina." I borrowed a pen, took my purse (with the liner notes and the mix CDs I'd made for Elijah, just in case I could get up the courage to ask Dom to give them to him) and headed back to the VIP area. Where the security guard flat-out refused to let me up onto the riser, refused to go ask Dom if he'd autograph something, and refused to be at all helpful, despite the sob story of libitina's car accident.*sigh*
But I tried. And I really can't fault the security guard, who was just doing his job.
So I headed back to my table to put down my things, and then over to the ladies' room. Now this is important because on the way I found a badge on the floor. A badge belonging to one of the employees of the convenrtion center. A badge that gives you special access privileges.
But for the life of me I couldn't figure out a way to convince the security guard (who'd already talked to me once) that I was an employee and should be allowed onto the VIP riser again. Because the employees were all in tuxedoes and I? Was not. So eventually I gave the badge to the guy who was working our table (thereby earning myself karma points, I hope).
So from that point on I mainly sat at the table, talked to people, drank another three or so doubles (still on a mostly empty stomach) and listened to the band. Eventually it was time to go, and I packed up and was walked (stumbled? *g*) back to my hotel by a couple of the girls from the table (and returned the favor by having the concierge call them a taxi). [/Dom portion of the trip]
I managed to post that abbreviated squee and the picture, despite the fact that the room was spinning mightily, and then I went to bed and crashed hard. Only to be awakened about 5 hours later by housekeeping because I'd failed to put the Do Not Disturb sign out. I was unnerved by the fact that things were still wibbly after five hours of sleep, and began to wonder exactly how drunk I had been the night before, as I almost never get a hangover.
And of course, in a demonstration of extreme cleverness, I'd utterly failed to pack any kind of painkiller. At all. *headdesk*
Luckily, the hotel had a little "store" where you could buy essentials like soda, toothbrushes, and Tylenol. So a shower, two Tylenol and two Advil, a light breakfast, and a couple of hours later, I was feeling a little better (though still a little wibbly and...not quite queasy, but just not well) and was busy packing my stuff.
Now technically my flight was supposed to leave at 10am, but I knew (from the moment I'd booked it) that I was going to miss that plane, so when I'd arranged for my transport back to the airport, I'd given them the time of the flight I thought I'd be awake to catch -- 2:30pm. *g* Because it was Fat Tuesday, they told me to call in the morning and check to see that they were going to be able to get to the hotel through the blocked-off streets. I called at 8:30am, before I got into the shower, and they told me it wouldn't be a problem and that the driver would be there at 11:30am, as it stated on my ticket.
At 11:20am, I was standing in front of the hotel with my luggage, waiting.
At 11:45am, I was standing in front of the hotel with my luggage, waiting.
At 11:50am, I was back inside the hotel, with first the desk clerk and then the concierge calling the airport shuttle people, trying to find out where my shuttle was.
At 12:10pm, I was drinking a complimentary coke and waiting in the lobby of the hotel while the concierge was on hold.
At 12:30pm the concierge reached the shuttle service. Who told him that they had been to a different hotel to pick me up. Without bothering to tell me that they'd changed my pick-up location from what was listed on my ticket. So they told him to have me take a taxi to the airport, get a receipt and bring it to their kiosk, and they'd reimburse me for my trip.
At 1:10pm I was set up on standby for the 2:30pm flight and was waiting in line at the shuttle kiosk.
At 1:15pm I was arguing with the kiosk operator.
At 1:20pm I was arguing with the location manager.
At 1:25pm I was accepting $13 (the one-way shuttle fare) as opposed to $32 (the taxi fare) and taking down the phone number of the general manager so that I could get to the gate on time so they didn't give my stand-by seat to the next person on the list.
At 2:15pm I was boarding a direct flight home, still cranky but looking forward to watching The Faculty on my laptop during the flight.
[/end New Orleans trip]