Ever wonder what a line 100 000 people long looks like? I don’t. I don’t have to. I’ve seen it.
I wasn’t even supposed to be in the registration line today, but Amber, Friend of Cancerbaby, has no 4-day pass and has to get each of her badges individually. Of course, to get in line we had to get in the line to get into the line. Curse my amicable nature and inherent loyalty.
(For the curious, the line not only led out the door of the convention center, but all along the length of the building, round the corner and all along the length of the back of the building, through the Marriott Hotel loading area, all around the marina and ending on the other side of the harbor. Apparently the escalators broke. Let this be a sign of what will happen to society once the Apocalypse comes.)
Of course to be a geek, and Canadian, is to be inherently tolerant of standing in line. I have no problem with queuing up in return for some kind of reward, but no payoff equals grumpy Cancerbaby. Standing in front of five of the most annoying Anime fantards in all of the Pacific Rim also equals grumpy Cancerbaby.
The line eventually got moving and once everyone was mobile we were inside the building pretty fast (and ditched the fantards even faster). We missed the archetypes panel I wanted to go to, but we made it into “World of Warcraft Epic Loot” fairly easily. Not much new or exciting, except that Chris Metzen is looking increasingly like a Hell’s Angel. Jesus Christ. I feel like I should be begging him not to beat me up or take my lunch money.
We had a bit of time before the next panel, and thanks to the inevitable pull of my childhood we ended up at the LEGO pavilion. Specifically, the Bionicle area. I was hoping for something on the new movie, but no such luck. At least the carpets were nice and thick.
An aside, here. The best advice at this point that I can give anyone wanting to attend SDCC or any other huge comic convention in the future is this: invest in nice shoes. Something with arch support, maybe even insoles. Your feet will thank you.
Anyway. After our wanderlust was slaked we headed up to the “Women in Pop Culture” panel. Surprisingly, a lot of men were in attendance. Like, 60% of the crowd. I’m not sure if this is a statement on spec fiction fans’ willingness to embrace gender equality or a statement on spec fiction fans’ willingness to bone Zoe Saldana. Also, Sigourney Weaver has a portrait in her attic, hand to God.
The high population of “Women in Pop Culture” meant that we weren’t able to get to the “Myth and the Superhero” panel, which I wanted to go to simply because that was the basis of my English thesis. I suppose the gloating rights will have to wait another year.
Our next panel wasn’t until 4:00, so Amber and I went for lunch in the Gaslamp district. We ended up at the Old Spaghetti Factory, because I have about as much desire for culinary exploration as an 80-year-old English war vet. I won’t bother mentioning what we ordered, I’ll let your imagination run wild.
The 4:00 panel was “Tipping Point for LGBT Portrayals in Comics,” which we arrived to late. By the time we did arrive, it was painfully apparent that Patty Jeres wasn’t making any friends tonight. By the end of the panel the conclusion had been reached that we were at a turning point concerning sexual identity in comics, and that comics fans were more ready than most to accept gay characters, which was interesting since the whole panel had been crammed into one of the smallest rooms at the convention with no video equipment and sound engineering that was dodgy at best. Draw your own conclusions.
“Physics of Hollywood” was already full, so we killed some time at the Art Show before showing up at the Zeros 2 Heroes panel out of general principle. Some poor artist actually mentioned that he couldn’t find any writers to work with. I hope he’s got someplace to keep all the business cards. I said “hi” to Jessica Leigh Clark-Bojin of Z2H while I was there, who has even more names now than she did at the last panel I saw her in at PureSpec. Seriously, this woman acquires surnames like I acquire neuroses. Morgan Jeske took a picture of me in which I will probably look stoned, because all photos of me turn out like that.
Amber and I had vouchers to see Mystery Team at Horton Plaza, but we were at the ass-end of the line and weren’t able to get in, so it was over to the Nordstrom to get Amber some nail polish (the makeup counter girl was very understanding when Amber had to empty her whole Comic-Con bag onto the counter to find her wallet) and then back to the hotel.
Called Mother to make sure she didn’t leave any more frantic messages on my cell phone, the hotel phone, my disposable cell phone, my e-mail, or my Twitter feed. She’s getting better at this.
