This was my first time going to a show in, essentially, my backyard. What convenience! It was very bizarre doing the con weekend sleeping in your own bed as opposed to some hotel. But you probably aren't reading this to hear about my compare and contrast dissection of the living situations.
The show itself was pretty fun. High points were getting to chat with Mark Morales, and getting to sit with Ryan Ottley, Cliff Rathburn, and Nate Bellegarde (along with his fancy female partner). Was also nice meeting James Harren and Scott Wegener (whom I apparently met last summer in an airport but we were distracted by the ridiculous uber-hipster who was sitting beside us. what shame!). I stayed pretty busy and was surprised by some of the folks I recognized that stopped by. High school and college people are always fun to catch up with.
However, not everything always works out smoothly. Midway through the day, and more so after the show, I started to feel pretty terrible health-wise again. Being sick at shows is terrible. I apologize to those that stopped by, but I had purel so calm yourselves. Went out for Japanese in a big group, Scott was kind enough to order for my ignorant mind. Went back to Ryan and Cliff's room and watched and aided, in Ryan getting massacred by just about everyone in the new Mortal Kombat. Felt dreadful, called it a night. Barely remember through the sick daze the T ride and walk home. Do remember having to share a hotel elevator ride with a transvestite prostitute.
To be honest, really wasn't feeling going in for day 2 at all. Wasn't in the mood but seeing as how my pages were still at my table..... my drive was already planned. Arrived a stylish 2 and half hours late, and enjoyed a slow last day. Said goodbyes, packed up and left. When asked by the parking garage attendant if I was there to watch the red sox game, I replied "no." I believe this decision tacked on an extra 13$ to my bill. Ugh.
Later in my drive I sort of managed to get in an argument with a police officer. He was acting as a traffic cop holding his hand up, to which I stopped. He then made a motion to move forward, I did. Quickly he flashed a stop signal, so I slam on the breaks. He then again motions to move through. At this point... I've got tunnel vision of this guy's possessed traffic hand, and start to edge forward. You can imagine my surprise when he punches the hood of my 2mph moving car and begins to yell at me. I lower my window to apologize and explain that he was really beginning to be confusing and that it wasn't necessary to hit my car. I got to the words "I'm.." in I'm sorry, before he cut me off with, "what do you want to hit these kids?" How does one respond to this? Sarcasm? "Yes, officer, it actually was one of my goals for the day." Straight? "No officer, I did not intend to hit those kids today..." I went with option two. He asked me what I was thinking, and I paused to think about the ramifications of answering that I was trying to figure out how someone so incompetent was in charge of not only traffic, but of securing children's safety. It was at this time that he accuses me of being on drugs because I look out of it and starts questioning me about which ones I'm on. One thought comes to mind at this point.... "It is wrong that you are not allowed to say 'Fuck You' to a police officer when they act like a fucking jackass" I tell him I'm on no illegal drugs, and he claims he doesn't believe me (still blocking the intersection while kids skip by in the longest child procession ever. Though they weren't there when I edged forward.) I tell him "I'll pull over and you can run any drug test you want on me, but I do have a nasty case of the flu." He lets me go, I swear and cough and barely breath for the rest of the ride/day. Ass hole.
Listening to: Music
Drinking: Green Tea