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Super-late con journal is super late like always. Man, this will really disappoint the six people who actually read these. Okay, so... the convention that I did. That was like, a thing that happened, and I was there. It's been awhile, but I'm talking about it now because this week has been a murder-gauntlet of stuff I have to do. Hell, there are things that I should be doing right at this very moment instead of talking about this furry con, but I've put school first all week. It's time to reminisce about the Spring Break that I spent working even harder than I do at school. Wait... what? I got something wrong there. Let's review. I made a much-needed trip home to briefly visit and drop off junk I didn't need and pick up some things I did need but forgot. This was my first time collegeing so I didn't have the best idea what the optimal equipment loadout was. The heat was out in my bedroom, but it wasn't that awfully cold outside so I decided that I'd tough it out for a few days rather than suffer through the process of trying to fix it. The whole time I was there the news networks were plastered with dire predictions of the coming tide of winter's fury. Given my travel plans they were at least a little bit disquieting, but I didn't dwell on them too much. The media loves to blow such things out of proportion. Like all news stories, the weather just isn't interesting unless it's trying to kill you. I thought that their predictions were ludicrous, as it had been mid-fifties all week. I barely needed a jacket.   Well, perhaps I should've had a bit more faith in the local networks because on Wednesday we totally got suckerpunched by a vicious, apocalyptic thunderblizzard. We got 16" total accumulation that day, with winds gusting up to 45MPH. It was that wind that really made life difficult right then. The snow would blow right back out into the roads every time we pushed it out of the way, giving bare pavement a very short half-life as the day went on. We hunkered down for the day, along with a large portion of the rest of the state, and did our best to weather the storm. Naturally the wind was quite effectively tearing through the walls of the old homestead, to the point where I could light a candle and watch the flame dance excitedly from all the icy chill that was sneaking in all over the place. My room became thoroughly inhospitable and I took refuge on the couch that night. The morning brought only moderate improvements to the road conditions, so I left a bit later than I had planned. Of course my planned departure time had been "whenever I wake up" so it's not like I disrupted a delicately crafted timetable or anything. I just wanted to be plenty early to help with setup at the con. In any case, things settled down a bit as the morning went on and conditions eventually got to the point where it seemed like not such a bad idea to head out. Of course naturally I had to stop in to say goodbye to my grandmother before I headed out, before her driveway was plowed. Technically I could've driven in, but that wasn't even a risk of getting my car stuck. My car would have absolutely gotten stuck and I'd be in an even worse predicament than before. So I braved the nearly knee-deep snow in the driveway in just my sneakers. I hadn't brought my boots back from college with me because the forecast back then didn't contain "ridiculous frozen donkey-punch" yet. The things I do for family... and cookies. She always bakes a batch of cookies right before I leave. Totally worth having wet feet for most of the trip.   The roads were actually just a bit worse than I thought they'd be. School was closed again, and I've found that school being in session is a big factor that lights a fire under our snowplow drivers. So with no threat of a busload of children careening into a ditch to motivate them, the town's snowmovers were slacking a bit. Still, it was a bit late to turn back, and it really wasn't all that dangerous to drive. The aggressive cold snap that accompanied Snowtorious B.I.G. meant that it was too cold for the roads to be icy. "Too cold for ice" is a tough concept for folks from temperate regions to wrap their heat-addled brains around, so I'll break it down a bit. Basically, the snow has to melt before it can refreeze as ice, so the biggest ice dangers happen when the temperature is close to freezing. When it plunges into the mid-teens and stays there, the snow stays in its innocuous, fluffy white form, painting the land in delightful, radiant white and hardly trying to kill anyone at all. As long as I kept my speed under control I was fine. Had this been a universal affair it would've lengthened the trip considerably, but it would appear that the storm's vengeful wrath was extremely focused on one area in particular, as it was only an hour or so before I drove out of its fallout zone. By the time I got to Baltimore there was hardly any snow on the ground at all, even in lawns and areas that I assume they don't plow unless Maryland is much weirder than I thought.   It would seem that my concern for the timetable was poorly founded, as even arriving at mid-afternoon I managed to get there earlier than anyone with that coveted "Knows what the fuck is going on" demographic. Still, I found a good group to hang out with in the Dealer's Den and managed to get my bearings there. About the time that they broke for lunch I got the message that one of my roommates had arrived, so I went out to meet him. If they accomplish nothing else practical, fursuits are certainly quite useful in providing identifying marks for finding someone you've never met in a crowded hotel lobby. Let's see six foot, stocky build... dressed as a raccoon. Okay, I can probably find this guy. When I met DiezelRaccoon, he had just gotten suited up, so he was keen to hang out a bit. That was fine by me, so we socialized for awhile. He's part of the school of thought that you should never talk in suit, so I can't say we got to know each other much. Though I did learn that he's a dirty cheater in that respect. Whenever there was information that he needed to get to someone, he would text it to me so that I could tell them. A breach of etiquette to be sure, but hey, it keeps the magic alive.   By the time I got moved into the room, the much-anticipated WTF-is-happening-knowers had begun to set up shop in Con-Ops, so I got to meet the people whom I was to be working with/for. Number one on the list was Kiba Youkai, who was in charge of volunteer coordination, and also everything. Since the fortuitous timing of Spring Break had left me with ample time on the front end, I had made the decision to volunteer at the con this year. Doing work at a con had always been unthinkable before then. Back when I was in the Navy I had to fight three gorgons just to earn the time off to attend the con, be damned if I was going to spend some of that hard-won leisure time doing more work. It all seemed to come together this time, though. Furthe'More was certainly the right con for it. I always come back from AnthroCon on my hands and knees from going full-throttle for 5+ days and there's never a moment to spare during any of it. That's the only con I'd ever been to more than once, so I really didn't have many attractive opportunities to help out. I certainly didn't want to be staff. I'd hate having responsibilities and obligations levied on top of me, keeping me from the fun stuff. I really did want to help out though. Even though I could barely spare the day and a half that I spent attending Fur the'More last year from my tight schedule, I still managed to have a wonderful time within those confines. I was very impressed with how smoothly the con went and how well everything was run, particularly being in its inaugural year. The con is a lot slower-paced, so I actually could count on a bit of downtime that I might offer up for the greater good. Volunteering is really nice like that. You're not obligated to anything, you just offer up whatever time you can spare and don't have much to do during anyway, and they're happy for whatever time you can give. It seemed like a great setup to me, and a good way to get my feet wet with this sort of thing. So I went for it.   My first task was getting everything together in registration. I'd always heard about the badge machines being temperamental, but they worked flawlessly. If anything it was the iPads that we were using as Point-of-Sale terminals that gave us a lot of grief. Anyways, I for a long time I was part of the assembly line that was loading badges, maps, schedules, coupons and whatever other swag was associated with any given attendee's registration into the convelopes that everyone gets when they register. It's one of those tasks that's rocky the first few dozen times, but the next 300 go quite smoothly. It would've gone a lot more smoothly if I hadn't gotten stuck with the schedules. I never would've guessed it, but getting a full size sheet of paper into a manila envelope is the most arduous, bafflingly difficult task in history. I obviously didn't want it to get all bent and wrinkled up, but there was just no way that paper was going in there smoothly, especially with a badge and a few other knicknacks already in there. We should have started with the schedules, but we'd gotten the 'I Love Lucy' style conveyor belt setup all put together already, so it was too late to change things. I was forever saddled with the task of gingerly slipping in paper after paper and feeling a little more stupid after each attempt. I just had to push through it with dogged persistence and- HAH! I'm just kidding I pushed it off on someone else as soon as somebody new showed up. That really was a valid solution though. I gave them just the schedule out of my selection of convelope-stuffing items I was responsible for. With an entire person devoted to just that one Sisyphean frustration exercise, the workflow smoothed out nicely and we got everything together okay.   I spent the rest of that evening as a line-wrangler for the newly-established pre-registration desk. Not a super glamorous task. You're basically telling people to stay out of the way repeatedly and giving the same set of information to everyone who comes by there. It can be fun if you make it fun though. It's a lot of facetime with a lot of different people, so you can change it up a little to keep it from wearing on you. Phrase the statement differently every time you say it. "Radiant crystal dragon Jesus-level sponsor-types on the left here, subservient, milling peons on the right!" Or get a little creative with the right-of-way enforcement. "I'm going to start walking back and forth in a straight line in the middle of the hallway here. If I collide with you, that means you need to step back and leave some room for people to walk through here." And just in general make light of it so that waiting in line isn't such a slog. "Yes, right now the sponsor-and-other-highly-enviable-people-of-means pre-registration line is actually longer than the drooling proletariat line. Personally I blame: [global warming, sunspots, the inherent flaws of capitalism, nuclear proliferation, ninjas, Dick Cheney, continental drift, quantum entanglement, that little Linux penguin, etc.]". (Oh yes, little penguin, I'm onto you.)   And then one of my big volunteer benefits kicked in. I had a dinner engagement to get to, so I said "Okay, I've gotta go." and then I left. It was just that easy! I knew that I'd be coming back to work some more, because it really did make the time go fast, and it felt great to be involved in making the con come alive. At dinner, Diezel and I got to explain to our waitress just what in God's name was going on at this hotel all of a sudden. I suppose that's a benefit of looking like a normal person most of the time. I'm still pretty approachable when people need questions answered. That sort of thing used to bother me, but I've lately realized that it's actually kind of nice to be a part of furry PR. Dr. Conway preaches often that you ought not have any reason to be embarrassed about your connection to the fandom, and every year I realize more and more how right he is. You're talking about something that you're enthusiastic about, something that you love doing and something that enriches your life by your involvement in it. Is it not completely natural that you'd be excited to share this with other people? Indeed so. And with that, I took to what I knew would be my only chance at a full night's sleep with great enthusiasm. We packed the room tight, as per tradition, so this was the only night that I was guaranteed my own bed. Be damned if I wasn't going to capitalize on that.   Friday morning I was back at registration, as that place obviously gets hit pretty hard the first day out. It was a lot more badge and convelope juggling, but more on a case-by-case basis, so you actually had time to think once in awhile. I found it was important to pay attention during those spots when you didn't have something to do right that second. If you kept your eyes and ears open, you could learn every part of the process pretty well just through osmosis, so you could step in for someone that had to run off for something or other. Which was inevitable, really. It happened all the time. Everyone stays pretty busy around there. Once again we got the process ironed out pretty quickly and got the badges flying like pros. It was a good time, actually. One of the reasons that I'd been reluctant to accept the gig in registration was that I've always been a technical sort. I was never very good with customer service positions, in fact I've tried to avoid them where I can. It went alright though, despite all that. I think it's just because furries are an inordinately friendly demographic.   I took a break to watch the opening ceremonies, and then I was back to doing whatever was needed. Perhaps I asked for it by saying "wherever you need me", but I did get bounced around a lot after that. Apparently security has a great deal of use for pawns that they can pick up and place wherever they are needed at the time. Dealers' Den, Artist's Alley, the panel room hallway downstairs, the all needed someone there to check badges, keep hallways clear (sigh), keep people from getting lost and sundry items like that. Downstairs we had to keep people away from the part of the building that had been rented out by another outfit for the weekend. It was a meeting of The International Order of the Rainbow for Girls. I wish I was making that up but I'd come up with something far less absurd if that was a fiction of mine. Apparently they were some kind of religious masonic order that had a youth outreach program, so you know, really not the best place for furries to be wandering into. In any case, I got to do a whole bunch of standing around in various places watching the convention go on around me. I often made light of the task by referring to it as "animal control". It certainly wasn't all bad. I met PearlyFox while doing that and we really hit it off, hanging out a lot as the con went on. I got to field a lot of questions in that security role, and that was a nice introduction to the kind of groupthink that goes on in the staff. No one knows everything, but everybody knows who to ask about whatever subject, so information moves quite freely. I also made a rather disquieting realization during all that idle time. "Giving out information and directions, guarding access to certain areas, standing in one place all day talking to people that pass by, enforcing the rules, only being interacted with when the attendees need something... dear God, I'm an NPC!"   Day one was kind of light on events, so I was actually glad for all the different things I had occupying my time. Still, I took my dinner break because I, like so many congoers, can let things like eating and sleeping get away from me if I don't keep track of them properly. I got to eat with Hengstolf The Solf and catch up with him some. I hadn't seen him since I left Virginia, so it was nice to get caught up a little on the goings-on with my old furry group. It was a relatively quiet evening after that, and I thought that I'd take some time off by attending a panel. And by "taking time off" I actually mean "working at that panel" because apparently once I get rolling on this volunteer stuff I just can't be stopped. There was a writing panel about the use of dark and difficult topics like death, childhood trauma, abuse and racism in fiction. Because of that content it had an age restriction and thus there was a fair deal of tapdancing to do to make it all legal. I couldn't even check IDs myself. We had to have a centralized authority do it and issue wristbands like a nightclub. Maryland apparently has some rather draconian restrictions on such things. In any case, I was in a good position to help out, because I was planning to attend the panel anyway, so I could just sit close to the door while I was there. That way I could sucker-punch any underage kids that were trying to get in. Or maybe that wasn't the right way to handle that... In any case, age restrictions got enforced like nobody's business.   That was a really great panel. Tough topics like that can really bring a lot of meaning to a story, and can also be disastrous if mishandled. They don't get talked about enough though because of their tendency to offend or make people uncomfortable. Making a panel specifically for topics like that was a brilliant idea. It was great because they framed it very clearly as a safe place for open discussion. The ground rules were clear that no one would be criticized for what topics that they brought up. If you didn't want to talk or hear about what was being discussed, you were free to leave. It was really a very liberating environment, and the group just ran with it. As the panel wore on into the night, it actually became a lot less about the writing and it just became a group of people talking about the issues. It was almost inevitable, really. It's one thing to talk about how to make your werebears relatable characters, but when you talk about big REAL issues like abusive relationships, religious persecution, and institutionalized racism, you're going to stir up some strong opinions. What I didn't count on was that exploring those different opinions and perspectives would be utterly fascinating. We weren't just fiddling around with our characters in a little fantasy world, we had real people, telling stories of their actual lives that pertained to the topic, and a lot of those stories were really quite compelling.   And in a twist so off-the-wall I wish I could've written a better one if I tried, the night ended with all of us laughing hysterically about racism. I won't go into details because I'm not in my safety bubble anymore, but it was an extremely cathartic experience. And really, that's how things like this get fought. There is a certain comic absurdity to the way race relations are handled, even by people who mean well, and it's not going to change until people stop being afraid to talk about the subject. It'll never get any better until someone is willing to call bullshit on the things that are wrong with the world. For a little while that night, I was in a place where I, as a white man, could use the N-word without bursting into flames. That's the kind of thing that makes me passionate about writing, because if I could ever get these kinds of ideas down onto paper in a way that resonates with other people, I could change the world. I had meant to throw on a borrowed fursuit and march in the parade, but I wasn't feeling up to it after the night I'd had. My novice status really shows through when I'm fursuiting, and I wear down easily. It was actually very nice fursuiting weather, so I might've managed it, but I'm happy I went with the safer option. I still wanted to see the parade of course, so volunteering to supervise it was a natural choice. I was very impressed with the turnout. Corralling them all at the end of the parade for the photo was a hell of a job, and we had to move them around a bit to find an area big enough to get them all in the shot. After that there were some good events going on, so I took a long break from all the volunteer work to go to a writing panel, fursuit charades and the dance competition.   The highlight of the dance-off was a comely young German Shepherd named "Halla" that absolutely lit up the floor with her evocative bellydancing routine. It was so amazing to hear such a drastically different style of music and see a very unconventional style of dancing amidst all the techno, dub-step and modern stuff. The judges apparently favored her originality too, as she won first place. After that I managed to meet up with a few of my old Virginia friends and we all went out to "whatever place isn't choked with a massive line", which ended up being Chipotle. Even that place was packed and we ended up eating outside. It had been a warm evening, and I was the only one wary enough of the capricious March weather to wear a coat. I felt foolish for bringing it, for about 20 minutes until the sun went down and it became the best idea ever had by anyone. After I got back to the con it was animal control again for awhile. In the evening things quiet down a bit, so that stint wasn't nearly as interesting. The benefit was though, that they opened the Sponsor Lounge up for volunteers during that time. So I got to take a shot at all the fancy grub to be had in there. They said that they had Miller Light on tap, so I figured I'd have a beer. After asking for "a beer" a pitcher was deposited on the table in front of me without further comment. Free of charge. Yeah, I liked their style in the Sponsor Lounge. It took me a fair amount of time to get through all that free food and beer. Did I mention that "free" is my favorite flavor? But I found some interesting people to talk to while I was making my way through that challenge, so that was all good. The people who buy higher membership levels to support the con are a very good group, and it's nice to hang out with them once in awhile. They're just as passionate about helping out the con as the volunteers, they just express it in different ways.   After that it was time for a sexy writing panel. Since the topics were racy and inappropriate, I was there as a bouncer again. Fine by me. It lets me charge time spent talking about how to describe furries bumping uglies as volunteer hours. I met RadFox there and got a chance to talk to him. He has a brightly colored fursuit with glowy green accents and radiation trifoils and the whole deal, so I'd always wanted to ask him if that was just a gimmick or if he was really involved with nuclear power. It turns out that he actually does work at a nuclear power plant. Brunswick I think. So that gave us something to talk about besides writing smut, which is an admittedly fun subject. He thought that I was nuts for going to college when I had plenty enough work experience to get a job right off the block. I'd heard before that experience outweighs degrees when you're trying to get an operator job. I'm going to stick to my guns though. I'm sure that "both" also has a lot of pull as far as landing a job is concerned, and free college is a tough offer to turn down.   There was another even later, even sexier writing panel, but I elected not to work that one. I really wanted to get to sleep for one, but I had also been invited (and subsequently begged shamelessly) to attend the dance by PearlyFox, so I allowed a little time for it. We actually had a pretty good time. I flopped around like an idiot about as I'd expected to, but it was fun, which I hadn't predicted. I burnt myself out pretty fast, but I was still very glad that I gave it a try. The big disadvantage was that despite my very firm knowledge that I was exhausted and quite sleep-deprived, I was way too jazzed from the dance to go to bed. Seeing as it was half-past tomorrow I went to the only game in town, the deviant writing panel from whence I had departed the hour before. We talked long into the wee hours of the morning and a good time was had by all. After a much quieter night, I embarked on the con's final day. I knew that this day was going to be cut short, as I had a long drive ahead of me, and despite the temperate weather, there was much snow and stormy unpleasantness in the forecast. I wasn't going to mess around this time. The last time it was 50 degrees out and they said we were about to get spin-kicked by a Yeti that totally happened. I wasn't about to take that risk, especially with class on Monday. Sunday was super-stacked with writing panels, and the last one ended at 3:00, so I began to make preparations to be underway by then. My host at the hotel room was easily in his 18th hour of nursing a crippling hangover, but I managed to get him lucid enough to say my goodbyes and pay my share of the room cost.   Of particular interest that day was the Writing Technologies and formatting panel. I learned a lot of useful tricks there that I'll be sure to put to good use. Having taken only very sparse formal instruction in writing, there are a lot of gaps in my knowledge of the technical and practical ends of the process. I took careful notes, and I'm certain they will be of substantial benefit to me should I ever scare up the time to do some serious writing again. I was a bit worried about The Gneech's writing panel, as I'd gone to meet him at his Dealer's table the day prior and he reacted with complete bafflement when I mentioned it. "I have a panel? Oh... I have a few calls to make, I think." It must have all gotten sorted out in the end, as he was indeed in attendance and had lots of very interesting things to say. Creating villains is a pivotal and very nuanced process. Tremendously interesting to talk about. Unfortunately, it was also the last thing I had a chance to talk about. I'd met a number of really great people on the Furthe'More staff, and so I wanted to give proper goodbyes to at the very least the ones I had worked closely with. I was thinking that this would be a quick affair, so ultimately I suppose I'm glad that I budgeted in a good amount of time into my departure schedule. Very soon after it got around that I was departing though, I got snagged. Kit Drago wanted to speak with me, I was told. I'd actually never met the Convention Chairman face to face, nor did I plan to, really. The big cheese has stuff to do and I'm happy to stay out of his way. I know that volunteers work in the background and I was okay with that. I was thinking that he just wanted to rectify the fact that we'd never even shook hands before I took off. When we finally did meet, he handed me, of all things, a con badge. Ah, a custom con badge. Nice keepsake, that's pretty thoughtful. Of course, keepsakes seldom have inflammatory phrases like "Staff Inductee" printed on them. ... What? No seriously what am I looking at right now?   Tradition was to call out this sort of news by surprise during the closing ceremonies and drag the victim/recipient up on stage to be publicly presented with their accolade with no prior notice. Apparently I'd put pressure on them by leaving early. I will certainly say that I was no less surprised than I would've been had the scenario gone as intended. I'm a writer by trade, if you hadn't noticed, so it's actually quite rare for me to be at a loss for words. Despite the lack of a large audience, this was undoubtedly such an occasion. This was my first time volunteering, and I'd never really given any thought to or bothered to learn about what goes into running a convention. I had expected to suck at this. Maybe work my way up to "competent" through trial and error by the end, and come out of it having found a good use for my downtime if nothing else. I didn't expect to be a great volunteer, and certainly not the BEST volunteer, as my new certificate states. I couldn't believe all this recognition I was getting all of a sudden. I was banking on cashing in my hours for a free t-shirt and hitting the road. I had a wonderful time working at this con. As such I would've been perfectly happy just taking my leave at the end. To hear that though, to be told "We really appreciate what you've done, and we want you to be a part of this convention." That's really something else.

  I had to go back around and say several more, truly proper farewells after that. Seeing as we'd never met, I'm guessing Kit didn't make this decision on his own, and that I had the people that I worked with/for to thank for this amazing new honor, and opportunity. It was so amazing to hear it in ConOps when it was starting to get around that I was top volunteer. They needed to record what department I was with for the award, and that actually sparked a debate. "I think we had him listed under marketplace." "Well, he was with ops most of the time." "Yeah but he spent like a whole day doing registration." "No, he was with security." "Wrong. He's programming. In fact, he's mine specifically, in programming. I'm contracting him out as my private code enforcement officer."Everyone wanted me. I never could've imagined that something like that would happen. It was heartwrenching then, both that I had to leave, and that the future is so uncertain. I only came down this time because Furthe'More lined up perfectly with Spring Break. The date is changing next year, so I may not be able to spare all the time that I did next time around. Had the convention fallen on a normal weekend I probably wouldn't have gone. Of course, my new appointment changes things. I'll be back next year. No doubt. Even if just the weekend really is all I can spare. Here's hoping the calendar gods still have some mercy left in them though.   The fates conspiring to keep me from leaving the con yet again, after I had finished all that, who should come by to visit my room but Glennjam! I'd spotted him earlier but I didn't have time right then to chat. I was just thinking what a bummer it was that I never got to talk to him when he showed up. Keep in mind that this was entirely coincidence. He was visiting someone else who was staying in that room, but it was still a lovely opportunity to fanboy all over someone who does/commissions a lot of really great art. When I told him that I was a huge fan of his he was like "Wut? Nuuu U lie!" and I was like "Nu is not lies! Serrus fan R seriuse." We got to talk for awhile about the contact we'd had on FA previously. I was delighted to hear that he'd read some of my stories. In the part where I'd expected to be saying a hasty goodbye, Glenn said "You know Bluedude is here too. Would you like to meet him?" O.O Yes! ALL of the yes. So Glenn took me right to him and made me regret even more that I was out of time and had to go. Bluedude was a great guy and it was fantastic to meet him. He, like so many people, had heard of me before but didn't recognize my username because I have a stupid, counterintuitive username. Once we got that worked out though he was very nice to talk to. It's always great to meet up with someone of common interests. Hopefully I'll be able to pick them out of a crowd now and we can meet at another convention and spend some more significant amount of time together.   So, after a lengthy and... profoundly moving delay, I was on the road. The feared snow never materialized, but I'd come to find out that was because I'd outrun it. Baltimore actually did get hit pretty hard that night. One thing I'd failed to account for was the price difference between cutting through mid-Pennsylvania and driving up the coast. The route coming from home is out west quite a fair bit, but driving up to Troy is pretty much a straight shot north, sending me through some very densely populated, and extremely greedy areas. Troy to home cost me nothing because it was a weekend. Home to Baltimore cost me nothing because Pennsylvania is chill as fuck. Baltimore to Troy cost me $27.70. And you bet your ass I kept track! My disbelief wouldn't let me do anything else. Thanks for visiting Maryland. That'll be four dollars! Welcome to Delaware, that'll be six dollars! Fucking psychotic. I spent more on tolls than on fuel during that leg of the trip. And that's including the tip I gave to the gas station attendant. And another thing, gas station attendants. That was a thing that I encountered. On my drive. In America. Presumably not inside a displaced time bubble. It was a heck of a thing. I didn't know what to tip him. About the same as I tip my milkman or stagecoach driver or other non-existent service professionals? I gave him three dollars because that was all the $1 bills I had left by then. Not that you'd know that looking at my passenger's seat by the time I crossed the border into New York. I ended up with NINE of them because some cheeky bastard gave me six ones instead of a five and a one. I also accrued $1.20 in change. I started off ill-equipped to give exact change, and of course ended with superhuman change-giving abilities. The toll to get off the New York thruway was $6.65, and I was actually rather excited about that. "Oh, it is so ON! I hope you need nine nickels because you're getting ALL THE NICKELS!"   I do decry New Jersey for their outrageous tolls and terrifying anachronisms and too many other things to list, but on their roads they have places. to. fucking. be. Sure traffic got heavy a few times, but there was unanimous agreement that this was no reason not to continue barreling along at breakneck speeds. Being 18 inches from the car in front of you is just motivation to pay extra close attention. I was in the right lane doing 75 and was getting just blown by all the time. It was magnificent. I went 90 a couple times and it really wasn't an imposition. It's a rather surreal feeling to be going gratuitously fast and be just kind of matching traffic flow. 85 was just barely fast enough to merit using the left lane, and even then I got people backed up behind me after awhile. Now, if paying $35 a mile got me the ability to drive like this everywhere I probably wouldn't complain so much about paying tolls. Seeing as it doesn't, I'm going to go back to complaining about tolls. Even given all the Fast and the Furious shenanigans that were going on out on the open road, by FAR the most dangerous thing I did in New Jersey was go through the tollbooths. These places are equipped for volume, which is good, but it's a death trap if you're not familiar with the system. I was in the left lane because this was during one of my 'holy shit I can go as fast as I want' phases and I saw in front of me twelve toll lanes. The problem is that the small and vague labels that I had to get close to in order to read were quite misleading. A dollar symbol isn't cash. It actually means "coins only-exact change" something that I was not equipped for yet. Could I have given $3.35 exactly to a person? Probably. Did I have the couple dozen coins necessary for a basket transaction? Absolutely not. The big issue was that the left-to right sequence of the booths was EasyPass, EasyPass, Coin, Coin, Coin, Truck, EasyPass, EasyPass, EasyPass, actual tollbooths. So I had eight lanes to traverse in a very short period. The smart thing to do would be just blow through one of the lanes in front of me and take the chance on the license plate picture widget the have on those and getting mailed a bill. Then take the whole thing as a learning experience. So naturally I cut across several lanes perpendicularly and almost died because the real tollbooths had a line built up in front of them so I couldn't pull into those lanes immediately. You know, like the sensible adult that I'm told I am.   So obviously by the time I made it back into New York I was thoroughly sick of this whole toll business. I knew that New York rest stops usually have EasyPasses for sale. I'd never traveled enough to merit getting one before, but after this extended rolling disaster I figured it would be worth it. I haven't put it to use yet, mainly because by the time I had it in my hands I'd achieved small change critical mass and I didn't need it. I'll get it going one of these days, though; the next time I have some traveling to do. I hope they don't mind if you wait a couple months before activating it. As much as I hate fiddling with cash, I'm surprised it took me this long to finally get one. Mainly my sticking point on the device is that they use it to track your car without your knowledge or consent. I've mitigated that by leaving it in my desk for the moment. In any case, I survived that whole exchange, surprisingly enough, and made it back to college a little after midnight. I was complete wreck in Engineering Statics that morning at 8:00 AM, so I'm glad that I pushed to leave when I did. Had I given into the temptation to stay for the Closing Ceremonies I could've gotten tangled up in the snow, and I would've gotten in at 3 or 4 AM instead. I managed a good score on my Statics exam two days after my return, and I think a big part of that is that I'd left myself with a mostly salvageable situation by managing my time well. Being responsible is really boring, but sometimes it's nice to get a reminder of why it's a good idea to turn down some opportunities because they may not be the best thing for you in the long run. I really do worry about how the timing of next year's con is going to work out, but there's really nothing for it. It's a year away, and a lot could change in that time. Really the only solution is to just wait it out and figure something out when I get there.   So, final thoughts on Furthe'More 2014. A couple of the people that I was with complained that the con was boring and didn't have anything fun. Sure it's a little quieter than most cons, but I think that's a nice change of pace. It's one of the things that lets me actually make it to the con and get everything that I do get out of it even on a tight schedule. I know that I'm going to come back from it still as a useful, functioning human being, so I can schedule around it a lot closer, rather than needing to leave time on the end for a hospital visit like I need to with Anthrocon. I don't think that there's anything wrong with Furthe'More. If you think it's too subdued, then maybe this con just isn't meant for you. Yeah, in an ideal world we'd be trying to attract as many people from as many demographics as possible, but really, every con does have a target audience. This con's lacking in rampant binge drinking and crazy room parties is actually what makes it attractive to a lot of people. I like it because I go to cons to socialize and go to panels and events. I didn't have any alcohol beyond the little bit that was offered to me on a couple occasions (and a whole pitcher of beer butitwasfreethatdoesn'tcount) and I had an awesome time. I loved attending FTM last year, I loved volunteering this year, and if I can find a way to spare the time I think I'll take them up on their offer to join the staff next year.   Yes, if your ideal con is getting sozzled and trashing a hotel room with insane late night parties, FTM is the wrong place for you. There are plenty of people who like the fact that we keep things under control, and the con is there to cater to them, because there are TONS of cons were you can just get shitfaced and bender the weekend away. I found that a lot of the complaints about the con were along the lines of "They wouldn't let me [irresponsible thing they shouldn't have been doing anyway]." But there were plenty of people who really appreciated the fact that we could reign in everyone's behavior and not have the place turn into Delta fraternity from Animal House. There was one person who absolutely loved this year's con to death for exactly that reason, and they phrased it very well. Here's an excerpt:The feel of the con is small and intimate, and the staff was so damn welcoming and kind! Never lose that! There are lots of big cons out there, and plenty of jerks, but not enough smaller ones that are actually laid back and fun! No long lines, waiting for elevators, crowded hallways, etc. The hotel space was perfect for finding friends and fursuiting, and you guys have a lot of really unique, entertaining events. Fur The More is definitely something special.   Your EMT's and Security made me feel safe, and allowed me to have a great time. Please DO NOT listen to the people who say your staffing measures are 'too much'. Remember, the only people who feel uncomfortable around trained professionals and security are assholes who want to break the rules. And those aren't people you want at your con. And last but not least, the Staff. You know, a con is only as good as the people who make it happen. They're the heart of what they create. If a con is run by an incompetent egomaniac, then it draws like-minded attendees and it has a really horrible "feel". When I was at Fur The More I felt like I was among friends. Every person I met, from Staff to Attendee, was welcoming and friendly. That's why I love your con, and that's why I'll be back. I guess what I'm saying is what some might call 'problems' are part of Furthe'More's mission statement. Maybe that means that some people are just not compatible with this con, and that's okay. We have a growing audience of great folks who are really put off by the "non-stop drug-fueled rave party" theme that a lot of cons have. We just want to relax a little, and if that's not your thing then you have plenty of other options. I guess what I'm saying is that some of the things people dislike about the con are not going to change. They're differences of opinion, not problems. But that's okay. There's a con out there for everyone. If you like big crowds, commerce and getting lots of swag, go to Anthrocon. If you like not remembering what you did half the con and spending the other half of it nursing a debilitating hangover, go to Furry Weekend Atlanta. If you like good entertainment and a variety of events, go to Midwest Fur Fest. And if you like disappointment and baffling, pervasive inefficiency, go to Rainfurrest. See? A con for everyone!   Okay, onto the footnotes: I debuted my new labcoat at this con and it was a smash-hit. Dozens of people commented on it. I would've thought the patch would be too small to be noticed so readily, but just about everyone picked up on it. A squirrel who was walking by during the fursuit parade started squeaking the Portal theme as he passed. It was so popular that I wore it throughout the con. The sewing and logistics for the  new duds were done by ToraKiyoshi because he is a good friend who wants me to be happy.Having extra pockets was actually very useful as I scrambled around doing various things. Volunteering necessitates a certain measure of organization and time management, difficult things to maintain at a convention. So having only one thing to grab that has all the essentials in/attached to it was very useful. The labcoat became a big distinguishing feature that people readily identified me by. I think I might get a white collared shirt and a bow tie to go with it one of these days. SilverPalth confessed to me "Every time you walk into ConOps I think that you're Uncle Kage." Which was quite flattering, to be honest. I had processed a Special Guest badge for the Good Doctor early on, so I was anticipating seeing him again this year, but I guess he couldn't make it.  I'm not usually much for buying lots of swag at cons, but I came away with some this time. I gave the vendor the chewing out of her life for not having Applejack, but I still came away from her booth with this one because look at it. AHHH it's adorable!