So, I am all ready. I think.
Plenty of clothes. Enough food. I look at the stack of stuff I’ve packed, this of what my father said about “light packing makes for a light heart”, feel like I’ve messed up, go through my stuff again, realize that I’ve packed about as tightly as a fencing, middle eastern dancing, wants to be prepared for all eventualities in a reasonable manner female can do. Tomorrow, on the way, I buy ice, bread, and fruit, and then I will be completely done.
I never DID get my frakking gloves from All Things Ren. I am so going to make their lives misery until I get my money back, since I am buying gloves at Pennsic now. Even though that means I’ll have to soak them to avoid “plague hands” (I’m buying black gloves…if I don’t wash out the excess dye, they will turn my hands green when I sweat in them. Also, not thrilled about the staining they would do to brand new lovely blouse.) there…which means I’ll be fencing in damp-wet gloves.
So, my shopping list is simple:
I will take a notebook, because I have an Ashton and Minerva story I want to write set at Pennsic…what better place to have a secret meeting among the clans of vampires and werewolves than a place where you are supposed to be someone else? I see a fencing tournament by torchlight, a murder…I think it might be fun to sketch it out while I’m there.
I will own, I am a bit nervous. I’ve never done anything like this. I’m happy…I want to have adventures and not allow myself to just be a plodder.
And…this is not an exactly random thought, it was inspired, but even though the person who inspired it never goes on the internet much, I am skating around things. It’s one of those things you HAVE to say, but you don’t want to hurt or be judgmental.
Anyway, during the conversation, I thought, “Loving a man for his looks is like loving the sunset. It is hearts and souls and how people react to the world that matters.”
I usually find that, if the spark of attraction is there, that the more you speak to a man, the handsomer he becomes. You have to give people a chance to unfold who they are to you, to discover what they really are like inside. Because that is what you will have to live with.
I’ve known men of absolutely heart stopping glory…just so handsome you could stare at them all day. And you fall a little, like you would at the perfection of a flower…but then, you get to know them, and they are vapid. There is NOTHING going on. Like maybe God made them pretty for a reason, and that reason was that they would have to have SOMETHING to get them through life. Emerson discussed such compensations in one of his essays, it’s like you get this thing instead of that. I have met men who were that handsome and smart, or that handsome and incredibly sweet, so, who knows. But I’ve also met men who were not handsome, but who became handsome because what was inside them was just SO incredible. It was this whole world of amazement and wonder. In the end, those were the men I loved and regretted the most.