Yesterday involved backstabbing. Betrayal. Evil. A she-devil destroyed my spirit.
Last month, Alyssa Vaughan was pretty cool. She sent me and my wife Christmas presents. She started a blog that I recommended you read. We met over Twitter when she wanted to have long chats with me about transmission fluid exchanges, the way any good friendship starts. Our mutual enjoyment of many similar subjects and individuals made us fast pals. She said my writing inspired her, which was a compliment I was super honored to receive, and would lump me in with the likes of Wheaton and The Bloggess when suggesting good reads on #FollowFriday, which I thought was nuts. When Anne Wheaton started talking to me on Twitter with some regularity, Alyssa jumped on the bandwagon and got herself noticed too. The three of us had a great time cajoling and carrying on about scabs and creepy dolls and other nonsense, 140 characters at a time. It was bliss. Cheery, sporadic, low-bandwidth bliss.
Then this happened.
Last night was w00tstock, the “night of geek and music” in San Francisco where Wil Wheaton, Adam Savage, Paul & Storm and some other silly people do things on a stage for a sea of nerds. Alyssa went to the show. I didn’t. Even though San Fran is one of my favorite cities, even though it would be a great time, I am poor and live in Pittsburgh and plane tickets cost a fortune. I did deeply consider going, but if my wife and I want to have enough money left to do some of the home improvement projects we’d like to accomplish this spring, it just wasn’t going to happen. So instead I got jealous and cranky. I was sad and powerfully envious. Especially once I found out that Anne and Alyssa intended to meet up at some point during the evening for high-fives and Where’s Waldo.
Alyssa promised she’d make up for the fact Laura and I wouldn’t be able to come. She reminded me for weeks about how bummed she was I couldn’t be there, and what she would do to make me feel better. She had a bunch of thoughtful ideas. I was relying on her honesty and kept my phone nearby all night.
Instead, what happened was something like this:
She promised me roses, and delivered a rusty aluminum can filled with urine.
I spent all week thinking “Well, that Alyssa is a stand-up gal. She’s got something up her sleeve, I know it. She said she’d be sending texts and calls. She said she’d carry around a paper cutout of me and put it in pictures so I could pretend I was there. She said something cool would happen. She said she said she said she said she said she said.”
Alyssa ended up with a picture of her, her husband and Wil alone, as well as one with Paul & Storm, Chris Hardwick and others all together making crazy faces. She even got Wil’s story notes from his set! I ended up with a lot of tweets to Nerdy Baker about how we’re losers and live on the wrong side of the country to do fun things, and a belly full of frozen pizza and foul-smelling gas. What a horrible monster Alyssa is. I bet she’s never even read Memories of the Future. Phony. If it weren’t for our tag-team gangup on Anne Wheaton on Twitter, her evening wouldn’t even have been possible.
That’s what kind of scumbag she is.
Based on her Tweets, w00tstock didn’t wrap up until 30 minutes before my early-rising ass on the East coast got out of bed for work Monday morning. Meanwhile in California, Alyssa and her husband are still asleep, recovering from an evening where they became cooler than me. Now I’m here at work, in an office building, drinking water that tastes like it’s from a mall fountain full of pennies.
There’s only one way to fix this.
There. In all honesty, her husband is pretty innocent in this debauchery. So we’ll leave him to enjoy his moment. Now I can remove her deceit and gain two things I always wanted: A picture with Wil, and to see what it feels like to have to haul around giant boobs. My goodness. I think I do them justice.
Of course, this is all in jest. Alyssa is still great, and it’s totally awesome that she got to meet all these lovely people she admires. I’m so happy for her and still adore her and think it’s really great that Anne and everyone are willing to give their attention to fans. I’m sure it was a thrill beyond comprehension, and I’m just insanely jealous and needed to virtual-punch her in the butthole to feel better about myself as I sit here in a cloud of neverending frozen pizza fart still waiting to meet these folks. Hopefully we have another opportunity to do it soon.
As for w00tstock, it sounded like a great night and I’m glad everyone had fun and made friends.