Comic Con Report - Wednesday, July 13th
And here begins my Big Honkin' Comic-Con Report for 2005.
Last week, I went to the San Diego Comic Convention International. It was awesome. I met a lot of people (almost all of whom are on Live Journal), saw a lot of cool things, and enjoyed nice weather. I plan to write up the details of what happened and promptly have the posts ignored, because honestly -- who reads Live Journal for things that actually happened? You're here for the hot fanfiction lovin', I know. Thus, this gets filed under "self-flagellation." I am so clever.
Wednesday, 13 July, 2005:
I woke up at 8:00am Eastern with a lot left to do to get ready, because Monday night I went out with my neighbor and thus Tuesday was a mess of hangover-induced uselessness. I picked up a copy of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac from a friend whose coworker wanted it signed by Jhonen Vasquez (the writer), hit the ATM, and got to the airport.
The plane was delayed, the first in a startling rule of delayed flights for the entire trip. I arrived over an hour early for my flight -- closer to two hours early, actually -- and got to spend some wonderful time in the airport just hanging out at the gate. However, when the flight finally took off, I received the best single-serving friend I have ever had on the plane: a professor from my alma matter who works in Environmental Engineering. We talked the entire plane ride, pretty much -- something I never do -- about everything from flying First Class for General Motors (her story) to literature and science-fiction to the Peace Corps. She is currently in the early stages of beginning an engineering program modeled after Doctors Without Borders, which would send engineers to troubled places (such as Western India) where they would do relief work and the like. Just a fascinating, fun conversation.
The plane landed in Philadelphia, and I got on the plane to San Diego. Notice I say, "got on," and not something like, "we took off to San Diego." This is because we did not take off. We just sat there on the plane for over an hour. I called jetpackmonkey to let him know I was late, and he said he would pass the information on to veggiebelle, who was coordinating our pick-up from the airport.
Finally, about an hour and a half late, the plane took off, and the mind-numbing five-hour journey from the Atlantic to the Pacific began. The only good part of this flight was that I was in an exit row, so I had leg room. Granted, if the plane blew up, I'd have to be calm and help humans or something, but this is a small price to pay.
I arrived in San Diego and promptly called jetpackmonkey, whose flight was also delayed by about the same amount of time. I mean, really; you'd think San Diego had tens of thousands of people flying in the way the flights were all so haphazard. jetpackmonkey is very tall.
kittycat22 and kenobi picked us up from the airport in veggiebelle's car. Which is interesting. kittycat22 is the one in the group who lives the closest to me, in real life, so I traveled over three thousand miles to be picked up by someone who lives approximately three hundred miles away. kenobi got out of the car to meet her gentleman friend, whose flight was due soon, and we drove away.
And promptly went the wrong direction. Then, we turned around and went in the right direction for two blocks before kittycat22 turned back to go the wrong direction again (she didn't realize it was the wrong direction; at least, I am fairly sure of this; she could conceivably just hate me and want to get us lost). We ended up on some island, and only my leet map-reading skillz saved the day. Well, that and veggiebelle telling us where we were and how to get to where we should be, of course. But I read the map! Which is notable because neither my father nor brother trusts my sense of direction at all.
We then reached the apartments and undertook the Anecdote of the Gate Clicker, which really needs its own entry (complete with excessive hyperbole and derision and self-deprecation). But, anyway.
We walked to the convention center and met up with brightone, goalieanna, solielsoul, _jealousy_, and steinba. I managed to remember everyone's name first try, which rocked my socks. At this point, humans wondered why I took pictures of people I just met -- but they did not know my evil plan to reference said pictures later to remember who the fuck was actually there. I am a stealth ninja photographer.
We went to dinner, where we met up with veggiebelle, kenobi & her gentleman friend, lizbetann, and diannelamerc. I got to meet veggiebelle's gentleman friend, as well, but he did not stay for dinner. At dinner, I sat at the little kids' table with kenobi, kenobi's gentleman friend, goalieanna, and kittycat22. The rest of the people sat at one big table. Shmeh on them.
At the restaurant, I ran into Tycho of Penny Arcade. He was very nice to a human he did not know, and even insisted on drying his freshly-washed hands before shaking my hand. I thought he might be annoyed by some random dude accosting him before the Con officially began, but he either was not or hid it well. I was proud I did not need a definition for any word he used, although we did talk for less than five minutes.
After that, humans slept.
Last week, I went to the San Diego Comic Convention International. It was awesome. I met a lot of people (almost all of whom are on Live Journal), saw a lot of cool things, and enjoyed nice weather. I plan to write up the details of what happened and promptly have the posts ignored, because honestly -- who reads Live Journal for things that actually happened? You're here for the hot fanfiction lovin', I know. Thus, this gets filed under "self-flagellation." I am so clever.
Wednesday, 13 July, 2005:
I woke up at 8:00am Eastern with a lot left to do to get ready, because Monday night I went out with my neighbor and thus Tuesday was a mess of hangover-induced uselessness. I picked up a copy of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac from a friend whose coworker wanted it signed by Jhonen Vasquez (the writer), hit the ATM, and got to the airport.
The plane was delayed, the first in a startling rule of delayed flights for the entire trip. I arrived over an hour early for my flight -- closer to two hours early, actually -- and got to spend some wonderful time in the airport just hanging out at the gate. However, when the flight finally took off, I received the best single-serving friend I have ever had on the plane: a professor from my alma matter who works in Environmental Engineering. We talked the entire plane ride, pretty much -- something I never do -- about everything from flying First Class for General Motors (her story) to literature and science-fiction to the Peace Corps. She is currently in the early stages of beginning an engineering program modeled after Doctors Without Borders, which would send engineers to troubled places (such as Western India) where they would do relief work and the like. Just a fascinating, fun conversation.
The plane landed in Philadelphia, and I got on the plane to San Diego. Notice I say, "got on," and not something like, "we took off to San Diego." This is because we did not take off. We just sat there on the plane for over an hour. I called jetpackmonkey to let him know I was late, and he said he would pass the information on to veggiebelle, who was coordinating our pick-up from the airport.
Finally, about an hour and a half late, the plane took off, and the mind-numbing five-hour journey from the Atlantic to the Pacific began. The only good part of this flight was that I was in an exit row, so I had leg room. Granted, if the plane blew up, I'd have to be calm and help humans or something, but this is a small price to pay.
I arrived in San Diego and promptly called jetpackmonkey, whose flight was also delayed by about the same amount of time. I mean, really; you'd think San Diego had tens of thousands of people flying in the way the flights were all so haphazard. jetpackmonkey is very tall.
kittycat22 and kenobi picked us up from the airport in veggiebelle's car. Which is interesting. kittycat22 is the one in the group who lives the closest to me, in real life, so I traveled over three thousand miles to be picked up by someone who lives approximately three hundred miles away. kenobi got out of the car to meet her gentleman friend, whose flight was due soon, and we drove away.
And promptly went the wrong direction. Then, we turned around and went in the right direction for two blocks before kittycat22 turned back to go the wrong direction again (she didn't realize it was the wrong direction; at least, I am fairly sure of this; she could conceivably just hate me and want to get us lost). We ended up on some island, and only my leet map-reading skillz saved the day. Well, that and veggiebelle telling us where we were and how to get to where we should be, of course. But I read the map! Which is notable because neither my father nor brother trusts my sense of direction at all.
We then reached the apartments and undertook the Anecdote of the Gate Clicker, which really needs its own entry (complete with excessive hyperbole and derision and self-deprecation). But, anyway.
We walked to the convention center and met up with brightone, goalieanna, solielsoul, _jealousy_, and steinba. I managed to remember everyone's name first try, which rocked my socks. At this point, humans wondered why I took pictures of people I just met -- but they did not know my evil plan to reference said pictures later to remember who the fuck was actually there. I am a stealth ninja photographer.
We went to dinner, where we met up with veggiebelle, kenobi & her gentleman friend, lizbetann, and diannelamerc. I got to meet veggiebelle's gentleman friend, as well, but he did not stay for dinner. At dinner, I sat at the little kids' table with kenobi, kenobi's gentleman friend, goalieanna, and kittycat22. The rest of the people sat at one big table. Shmeh on them.
At the restaurant, I ran into Tycho of Penny Arcade. He was very nice to a human he did not know, and even insisted on drying his freshly-washed hands before shaking my hand. I thought he might be annoyed by some random dude accosting him before the Con officially began, but he either was not or hid it well. I was proud I did not need a definition for any word he used, although we did talk for less than five minutes.
After that, humans slept.