For some reason, they hit this morning, and they hit hard. Yeah, it’s those “I’m not going to Comic-Con” blues.Â It’s funny, because I really don’t have any reason to go this year.Â I made bigger leaps in my career by attending one World Horror Con than by going to the three San Diego cons I went to.Â I have a new project to pitch, but I have an in with somebody, and I can bypass the con.
But I still want to go.
I want to walk around with Randy and watch incredible artists draw sketches for him while I wonder Why didn’t I save up more spending cash?Â I want to buy sketch books and talk shit with Larry Young.Â I want to get run over because I didn’t realize Halle Berry was walking behind me (this really happened back in ’03).Â I want to get drunk at the Honey Bee Hive during the annual burlesque show and live art show.Â I want to drink even more and talk geek stuff with people in the Hyatte bar.
I want to eat fish, fish, fish!
But alas, tis not to be.