People keep telling me I have / had a surreal life. So I think I'll use this heading to occaisionally post amusing snippets on my LJ as I remember them. My memory is shockingly bad. Bare with me. I'll jump around the time line of my life quite a lot I'm sure.

My first brush with fandom.

I was 22 years old and Star Trek: Generations was opening. My bf at the time had the urge to go to the premiere night viewing with a group of friends. The SA Trek Assoc were having a special viewing so he organised the whole thing as a treat.

He informed me that we would all be going in costume.

See Star freak.

See Star freak A LOT.

Star, however, being in early days of the relationship, reluctantly agrees to go along with this and is duly fitted out with a Star Trek: The Next Generation dress uniform.

At this point, I discover something rather alarming: No one in Trek has a bladder.

The uniforms are not designed for anyone to ever go go the toilet. EVER.

So, grumbling about how dumb I look, the group gets to the cinema. Everyone takes photos. Somewhere out there, there are about 15 photos of me in Trek costume. There are hundreds of fans there, all in costumes of varying degrees of construction: Good, shoddy, terrible, frightening, and brilliant. We go and watch the film.

My impressions of the film were as they are now: average in the extreme. While I enjoy watching lithe British actors leap with gazelle like grace from rock to rock, watching podgy Shatner man try to emulate their balletic poise is just...wrong.

We come out of the cinema to see crowds queing for MILES to see the next session. I am beyond disturbed; now I am terrified. As we get to the foyer of the cinema, we see the press is out in full force to capture footage of fandom's freaks, as they like to portray us.

A camera points at me. I yell "OH FUCK!" and grab bf, hiding behind him as I half drag him out of the cinema.

The next day I meet a friend for lunch. Said friend is a radio DJ and plays in a local 80's cover band. He tells me he watched Ann Wills midday report and saw me, screaming obscenities and running away.

I am mortified. I have no cool. I have no street cred.

With the tatters of my dignity draped around me, I slink home and hide, vowing to never wear another Star Trek costume in my life.

Questions? Comments? Wanna stroke my ego? Then e-mail me.