My Lost Weekend?

Hubster is away from our homestead this weekend. He attends a gaming convention (not hunting and fishing ) every February. Long before I came into his life he has been making this annual trek to “hangout” with fellow nerds to have a grand time coming together to play games of various inclinations and skill levels. Nerds from all walks of life and different parts of the country come every year to sit in a conventional hall and play games all weekend long.

I am not a gamer, never will be. Time is a precious thing. I squandered too much of it in my youth. I have had my fill of lost weekends. I have been dreading this weekend since January. I look forward to being on my own and yet I am nervous about the prospect of it, separation anxiety I think or maybe the truth is I have not been on my own in a very long time. I have gone on these convention weekends since my hubster and I were dating. I would people watch, go shopping, catch up on books or research papers while I was on break from school or just did more shopping. I always went with my hub until last year. These conventions have always been held a significant distance from our house so for me it was a mini adventure and travel. In the past we have been to Connecticut, New Hampshire, Vermont. Places far enough away that a decent adventure can be had and sleeping accommodations must be made. Not anymore, now the convention is a mere 25 minutes from my house so why rent a hotel room?

I used some vacation time so I could have a long weekend being FREE but… hubby asked me to come for lunch on Friday (today) and supper on Saturday. Good bye to unplanned trip to Maine. Goodbye to getting anything fun in. Good bye to being FREE. I am pretty sure that I don’t have to tell you, we had an argument. This convention is his thing not mine. His once a year adventure not mine, his nerdy friends not mine. I know he will miss me but I think that is a good thing. I suggested that I could come to stay overnight on Saturday. This year he is splitting a room with my besties husband. He doesn’t want me to stay overnight. Oh no! bad idea. Apparently I SNORE! I can not unknow (yes, I know unknow is not a real word but I like it so there’s that!) this now; it makes me sad. How have I lived this long without knowing that sometimes I SNORE!

Just awesome! Let me say for the record my hubby snores as well but apparently mine is of epic proportions; UNBEKNOWNST to me! I feel so insulted, ugly and unwanted except for lunch and supper. I have no interest in visiting him for any reason. I wish to be childish and surly and waste my weekend doing nothing but being angry over this…OR…

I can just move on. I haven’t decided yet.


It is a Friday night near the end of February. I am in a hotel room in the pouring rain. I am tired and I just want to go home but I can’t. I am at a gaming convention. I don’t know if you understand what that is but I can tell you that for me IT IS HELL. I don’t begrudge another living soul their happy hour but if this is all you got my heart goes out to you, seriously.

Imagine a football sized playing field packed to the gills with oversized 10 years old trapped in forty year old bodies; and yes, I am being polite. Tables and chairs are strewn throughout the room. Dice are rolled, cards are shuffled, board games and minis fill the room. The person to person chatter sounds like a low pulsing buzz that rises and falls as the excitement in the room spills over the crowd in waves. A roll of the dice from the table in the corner is drowned out by a nearby round of laughter.  All activity in the room is connected and uniquely separate at the same time. People tell me that physics is hard, yeah try a convention.

Bad hair, bad teeth, bad manners, BAD HYGIENE. C’mon people you can just do better than this. Soap and water is plentiful and cheap. Go get yourself some. I like for a person to look me in the eye or at least the general vicinity of my face whilst we are conversing. My breasts can not hear a word that you are saying so for God’s sake, look UP.

I am sorry that you don’t get to interact with members of the opposite sex as much as you’d like to but if you left your parents basement once in awhile you might actually meet someone.

I know. I know I am being unfair but I did tell you I was tired. I am not a gamer;  I married one. Sad story of my life. You can not tell your heart who to love. I love my hubby just not his hobbies. A convention of any type is a great merchandising ploy with the multipurpose of getting like minded people to intermingle, provide entertainment, exchange ideas and ensure a steady cash flow to vendors that sponsor said conventions. Ask yourselves where would a pro sport be without the merchandising? or Harry Potter?