Listening: the AC
Mentally Replaying: Some Ekova
Desiring: green tea with honey
Aches and Complaints: oi mi back

I took some time off last week to avoid myself. I've been feeling really down and I couldn't shake it even while I was getting really tired of it. I don't enjoy reading the same whining and pissing and moaning in other people's journals so I don't want it showing in mine. Also, the bad mood was/is making me downright pissy so I needed to step back.


Anyway, enough of that. I was actually going to write about feeling somewhat better now, but that won't last if I go and wallow.

I spent a lot of last week on the verge of tears for no particular reason but couldn't quite squeeze them out.

Then on Saturday I got up at seven and dragged my Molasses down to San Diego and out to the Comic Con. Most of the people that I know of who went were smart enough to get the previous weekdays off and get a hotel room for the four+ days. I didn't feel the need to take the extra days and I don't think Molasses would have felt like playing along. But now he knows better; we both do.

We pulled into downtown SD around a quarter after ten in the morning and it took over a half hour to go the last mile just to get to the convention center. Traffic was horrid and the signs were not even a little bit clear about where to find parking. The traffic-director-people were worthless fuckwads who kept us going in circles eventhough they totally knew the Convention center parking was totally full. But they couldn't be bothered to put up signs to tell us to look elsewhere. At a quarter to eleven I let my Molasses out to buy our tickets and then wandered off to find somewhere to ditch the car. After another HOUR of fruitless search I left the car a parking lot at the mall.

Because I was in such a hurry to get to the Con (I was sure Molasses had the tickets by now and the panel I really, REALLY wanted to attend was All about Neil Gaiman, starting at 12), I didn't pay attention to the payment signs. I figured it would run $20 -30 as was most of the parking near the Center. It was actually a doller per fifteen minutes. By 1230am the fee was $51. I'm still mad at myself but I don't think there was much I could do 'bout it.

I got to the center at noon, sharp, and was immediately found by Berek and Pepita (the only Angelenos I know that I saw that day). I couldn't find Molasses who I had told to "meet me out front or something." Not as specific as I like and I was getting really mad at myself when berek thoughtfully lent me his phone. Of course that plan would have been far more successful if Molasses had grabbed his phone when he got out of the car. As it happened, I had to relinquish the phone so Berek and Pepita could get in out of the brilliant sun and enjoy the Con. I wandered out front for the next hour bewildered at how I was going to find my Molasses and staring balefully at the Huge Damned Line in front.

>Side note. While I was talking to Berek a man and a woman walked by us in a hurry. I stared at him for a moment and decided the man looked a lot like Neil Gaiman. This must have been around 1202pm. Later on I saw them again. The man was indeed Neil Gaiman and the woman was his handler. I almost wish I had said something but my brain doesn't work that fast and obviously they were late to the panel.

So anyway: wandering, hot, frustrated, verge of anger and dispair, wondering if that's how the Isrealites felt after ditching Egypt for...the Great Big Desert Beyond...decided the heat was getting to me and got some water. Wandered some more and finally found my Molasses. STILL IN LINE. The line was literally two miles long. The line was moving steadily, just not swiftly and the huge number of people in it meant for a long friggin line. The poor boy got sunburned because of it. I wonder if anyone got dehydrated or passed out. If so I wonder if they could sue. I'm not in favor of gold digging by misfortune, but after I went through the registration area and listened to the cashiers speak disparagingly about the con-goers and how clearly we were just too lazy and disorganized to get in line at an appropriate time I have to say... that's one company I wouldn't mind running out of business.

Anyhoo we registered, got bags of swag and went in and...

...got in line. This time for something that wouldn't start for another hour.

The last time I went to Comic Con I met Neil Gaiman and had him sign the "December" story in Tori Amos' tourbook for the Dew Drop Inn tour. He wrote: "[Nobody], Hi, by the way. Neil"

}:D totally made my day. }:D


This time I had him sign my copy of American Gods. A lot of people had the same idea and he wrote in a lot of them "[Name], Believe. Neil Gaiman" Same thing went for me though there was some banter about my name which ended in him remarking that it is a lovely name to tell my mother he said so. I still have to do that. };>

After that we left the con as we were famished and located some food. Then we went back and wandered the exhibitor floor for a little while. At five PM we went to a panel that was to give a sneak peak of the upcoming Van Helsing movie. While the panel six of the main actors from the movie, the writer and the director, it may as well have been the Hugh Jackman Hour, with a little help from his pals Kate Beckinsale and Steven Sommers. Of course Hugh Jackman at least had the grace to look embarassed at the barage of Wolverine and X-Man questions. But it must have been frustrating to the other actors.... Of course Hugh Jackman is also extremely extroverted and very desirous of attention. And the crowd was more than happy to give it to him. It just got a little silly when he sang a few lines from "Summer Lovin'" (both male and female).

They showed a trailer for it which at this point only has music and sound effects but no vocals. I'm not sure that the story will be all that great, but _god_damn_ the scenery and costumes look fuckin amazing. There is this scene that is at a masquerade ball and... oooh goodness. three words: Goth's wet dream.

I want the costume designer to come to my place and stock my wardrobe. *drool*


So after that we headed back to the floor and wandered around until they closed up shop at seven. Apparently this is the first year that the Con has taken up the entire the Center. And for all the ass-loads of vendors Marvel didn't even bother to have their own table! at least they weren't in the guidebook. they're just too big for us fan...uh..kids. anyway, the boy likes them more than I do. give me Vertigo any day of the week. The DC section had tons of posters that I wanted, but sadly they were not for sale.

I also got to meet Charles Vess. I didn't have anything for him to sign so I settled for grinning stupidly, shaking his hand and thanking him for the tree in Stardust. If you're confused by that see the title, if you're still confused then clearly you're an unlettered cretin whom I have no time for.

After that we headed to a showing of snippets of Very Bad Kung Fu Movies. The speaker was a real aficionado of the genre, though I have no idea how he makes his living. The snippets we caught before slipping out for dinner very, very bad. Though we did catch a scene from The Bride with White Hair that looked at least interesting, even if the antagonist(s) were rather goofy.

We had a quick dinner before heading back in and getting into .... yep, yet another long(ish) line. This was really just a holding pattern before getting into a room. We could have milled about outside the door, but trained Con monkeys that we are, we queued up straight away. The Comic Book Legal Defense Fund was holding an auction in the room where, at 930pm Neil Gaiman was supposed to show up and do a reading (also a fundraiser for the CBLDF). Apparently a quilt with the image of Morpheus (Sandman, not Matrix) went for $2600.

At 1025pm they finally let us in. It was pretty rad to listen to Neil read his own stuff. With only one exception it was all material I've never encountered. Considering he's my favorite writer I was (VERY) pleasantly surprised by this. There was only one bittersweet moment when I realized that a poem he read that was written specifically for Tori Amos's unborn daughter (that is, for Tash, but some weeks before her birth) was probably never going to be published. It was so sweet and put such a lump in my throat and made me think so much about La Rorrita and my neice it felt so wrong that they could go and never hear this poem. *sigh* oh well. At least Wolves in the Walls comes out soon. And then later, NEW SANDMAN!!!!!!!!!

The only piece I knew from before was the series of Scarlet diary entries published in the tourbook for Tori's Scarlet's Walk tour. Because the reading started so late it wrapped up at midnight. We made a beeline for my car, paid the highway robbers their blood money and headed home again. Apparently I drive very fast when I'm fast asleep. Hm. Who knew?


Ok, there's more that happened on Sunday and Monday, but I'll tell you 'bout it later.