It’s that time of year again. I’m running around buying travel-sized contact lense solution, ordering comfortable sandals for all the walking, buying new outfits for the nights-out dinners and drinks. Planning a trip? Oh, you betcha – it’s time for Dragon*Con!
This will be my 11th trip in a row down to Atlanta, Georgia for the epic event that is Dragon*Con. We can call it my Matt Smith year (shoutout to all my Whovians) and by now I’m a pro at things like:
-Not buying my tickets ahead of time, because the line is shorter if you pay on-site.
-Eating the cost of a full-price ticket in exchange for spending 2 hours in the hot ATL sun, versus 4 hours at a $60 savings.
-Purchasing a small battery-powered fan to cool me in all the 2-hour lines one finds themself in at this sized convention.
-Bringing my own booze from home to front-load in the hotel room and avoid the high price of getting tipsy at the Marriott Pulse.
-Not wearing a costume when I haven’t brought my A-game and would be miserable in a corset and heels for hours of crowd navigation.
And this leads me to the topic of clothes, and what I’m planning to do this year:
I’m going sleeveless.
This will come as a shock to many of you who know me personally. Having previously been a proponent of covered arms for anyone who didn’t have a Linda Hamilton-like physique, I am going back on my fashion rules and wearing some sleeveless outfits.
“But you have fat arms!” I’m sure some of you are exclaiming. “People will know that you’re heavier than you want to be.” I know. I know. These are facts that are undeniable, and thus, I will have to accept them.
What I can’t accept is the number of cute tops I don’t wear because they have no sleeves. I honestly think that four inches of extra fabric can convince you that I’m thinner than I actually am. It’s time for me to remember what I know – four inches never mattered nor made a difference in anything.
*see what I did there*
So, get ready Dragon*Con. Kelley’s coming to get 6’1″ deep in you and she’s bringing her fat arms. They’ll probably also be covered in a fine glitter, but don’t concern yourself with that now.
It’s always 150 degrees in the ATL – and you’re going to have to deal with that, and the fact that my arms are out.