This Comic-Con thing is madness. Expensive madness. More so if you: A) manage to misplace your camera charger the morning you take off and end up delaying your trip to borrow another B) discover the con shuttle doesn't go anywhere remotely near your hotel and end up taking a cab ($20 x 2) C) find your cam card is corrupted and end up taking a pedicab to Office Depot a few miles away to get a new one ($36 card + $30 round trip ride with this Russian dude pedaling his furry white legs off).
It's only day one and already I want to tear my hair out. I knew I was in trouble when con rat and fellow staffer Luke Thompson said this geek fest was the "most wonderful time of the year." (Note that this is from the guy who came to the office yesterday with rainbow dye still wet on his head and trailing down his forehead.) I adore Luke, but damn, his fanboy world ain't for everyone.
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"So what fandoms are you into?" he asks me as we stand in line for a Paramount panel (which overloaded before we could make it inside Hall H). Well shit, I tell him. Nothing to this extreme. Unless you count those years I spent fawning over yaoi/slash (wherein fan writers take mainstream straight-laced characters and make them...gay). Hurrah for counter-culture.
Things will get better, he tells me. Have you been inside the exhibit hall yet?
I hadn't, so we wander through the double doors and the grouchiness that had been looming cloud-like over my head evaporated. Holy hell, this was the most colorful spread I'd ever seen.
More on the sights later...I've got a "Lost" panel to attend.