convocation

In all my nervousness, I find time to look at the crowd of sitted onlookers - and spot my kung fu si-heng.

This conversation was mouthed and acted upon :

Me : *stares*
Jon : *stares*
Me : *what are you doing here?*
Jon : *you???* *points, shrugs*
Me : *pulls on robe, rolls eyes*
Jon : *points = you*, *tugs shirt = robe*, *rigid hand-slicing-through-air movement = so-so*
Me = *W-H-A-T?!*

If he wasn't very potentially able to leave me crippled on the spot, and if I wasn't so near the stage where the Platform Party of notable men and women were, AND if there weren't so many people... I swear I'd have stranggled him for the insult. Or, maybe not - his girlfriend would murder me too. Damn.

I sweated blood and tears for this! *Hurrumphs off*

It is only human nature, to hear ones heart beat like a bass drum when faced with 600 people and professional photographers. My name was called, it seemed too loud, penetrating my eardrums before leaving a baritone ring behind. Too many lights, they blind me. Robed-Guy offers a scroll, I accept, I stop. Time to smile, wonder why he isn't letting go of the role, look down, look up. Oh my God, must look real stupid. Hurries down. New friend(s) come, poke them to death and whine like the world would end.