It's unusual for me to be up at 3 am and even more unusual for me to be up writing at this late, late hour, especially knowing that clean sheets await.
Some things, though, cannot wait.
Tonight, I attended a Furry Convention.
Furries, for the uninitiated, are people who dress like animals. Think, high school mascot, only far more personal.
It was something the Wifey had always wanted to do, attend a Furry convention, so imagine her surprise when there was one in Reno. Since I tend to be up for a good people watching adventure, I agreed to go to the casino where it was being held and stare.
What I found was a really nice group of people in various states of animal dress. Some, just wore tails. Some, ears. Others were in full body costumes. Some costumes were homemade, some were custom. All exhibited a certain personality. You could tell that some of the people were more comfortable in their costume than they were in regular clothes.
Amazingly, I get that. Where I thought I would giggle and snort and roll my eyes, I found that I accepted their desire to dress as animals. I understood their need to wear a different skin. One of their own design. Who wouldn't want to be a purple giraffe? Who hasn't put on a costume and felt empowered? I feel that way every time I wear certain outfits or put on my referee jersey.
We ended up in a Furry dance party. I sat and watched while my cohorts boogied. I smiled at the unabashed joy of the revelers. I blushed at the Yiffing. It was, an experience to remember.