Last year’s Fantasy Faire was… emotional, and ambiguous, and difficult, and… well, after all, I had been diagnosed with breast cancer only a few weeks before the Faire opened its magical gates, then I had my operation, then I was undergoing radiation treatment each day, every day during the Faire, and afterwards.
Was it easy? Oh hell, no. Did it become easier, after the radiation treatment? Oh hell, no. This is when my prophylactic hormone treatment started… and that was a single ticket to absolute and total grrr… I mean Purgatory. I’m not my old self any more. I look at an apple, for a second, like… and I gain twenty pounds or so. I lose hair… and I mean not only hair on me head, mind you. I’m irascible. Hey, you… you, cutie, you, yeah, you want to lock horns with me, hun…? Rally? Think again…?
… but, and this is really weird, mind you, folks, it’s truly weird… when I talk to you, FF people, you soothe my nerves, and you entertain me, and you make me laugh, and you make me… feel better. Oh hell, does it mean you help me survive? …. errrrrm. I’m very much afraid I need you, charming participants, contributors and visitors of the Fantasy Faire, in order to hang on. You’re a funny crazy lifeline… and I’m risking to be mawkish and maudlin, but I love each and every of you for this.
…oi, so we meet inworld, and we have some craic, and we ride dragons, and laugh, and have a pint together, huh…? Please…? Pretty please? Someone, will you start this Faire soon…? VERRY soon?