That tap-tap-tap-tap noise is the sound of me NEVER SLEEPING AGAIN.

Creepy factor aside, this is one of the coolest toy-sculpture-things I’ve seen in my life and I kind of want one. I’d take it to parties with me*. It would be my new best friend.

I’m posting this at night because if I’m not sleeping, then neither are you.

*especially if brownies had been ingested at said party.

First of all, Google Maps is a fucking liar. The establishment that it had repeatedly and confidently told us was a Best Buy turned out to be, in fact, a Circle K. I don’t know how they fucked that one up, either. The good news is, they had disposable phones, which is what we wanted from the Best Buy, plus Amber got a mug. Crisis averted.

When we got back to the hotel we had to wait several hours for the phones to charge, which is even less interesting than it sounds. Amber’s charged first, naturally. The universe hates me.

We made our first trip downtown this afternoon. The San Diego Convention Center is one of the largest buildings I have seen in my life, and keep in mind I live in the same city as the West Edmonton Mall. Granted, the convention center probably has fewer armed druggie teenagers living in the walls. The crowds were also pretty huge, although at 3:00 in the afternoon not massive. Then again, I didn’t spend much time inside but got my badge and swag and got the hell outta dodge. Partly this was due to a lack of desire to attend any preview night events but mostly because Amber, Friend of Cancerbaby, was waiting outside and wasn’t wearing any sunscreen.

Side Note: The biggest indicator, for me, that I’m no longer at home is the smell. Different cities smell different. Sometimes this can be a pleasant experience, such as the refreshing smell of surf as I exited the San Diego airport, or sometimes it can be less than pleasant (“Oh Christ, what’s that smell?” “That’s Windsor.”)

After I got my registration all sorted out Amber and I headed over to the Horton Plaza mall for overpriced ice cream. As I intently circled certain events on my schedule with a big red pen, we met up with Matt, Friend of Amber, and took in a film. Well, Transformers 2, which is a film in the technical sense of the word but is as close to winning an Academy Award as I am to winning the New York Drag Queen of the Year award.

Arrived back at the hotel to several increasingly frantic messages from my mother as to my whereabouts. I’m starting to detect a pattern here.

My thoughts on Transformers 2:

I didn’t know there was a hole in my life until it was filled by seeing Optimus Prime kick the shit out of three Decepticons at once.

Mack woke when the fire axe thunked into his headboard.

He kicked the covers into the air and ducked sideways, rolling out of the bed. The baseball bat slid smoothly from under his pillow, where Mack had been clutching it all night. His first haphazard swing neatly deflected the axe as it came down again.

It was calm, just for a moment. Mack stared the alarm clock down, watching the gears in its head spin away. Then with the ruthless optimism of a machine it advanced, brandishing the axe.

This time, when the axe splintered the floorboards where Mack had been standing a second ago, it stuck. Mack struck upward with the bat, slugging the clock viciously on the chin. It stumbled back, bolts tumbling from its mouth like broken teeth.

Mack swung from the shoulder. The clock’s head flew across the room and hit the wall, landing on the floor with a pathetic clang.

He used his sleeve to wipe the sweat off his forehead and set about dragging the alarm clock into the closet.

The squeaky step on the stairs had been there for years, but Mack managed to step on it every time he walked downstairs. The sound carried clearly into the kitchen. He winced.

“Oh, good, you’re up. Breakfast is ready!”