My Love Letter to Comic Con

It has now been a little over a week since I returned from my annual pilgrimage to San Diego Comic Con.  This was my fifth year and at this point, it is my drug.  I can’t get enough and I fear that if I were to skip a year, I would be home, scratching at my arm, rocking in the fetal position, and reading updates on Twitter while weeping silently. Here is a dramatic pre-enactment.


I always love Comic Con, but this year, it seemed to mean a lot more to me.  Perhaps it was because I only had to sleep outside one night this year or maybe because I am becoming such a seasoned pro (dustin’ my shoulders) that I have a pretty good handle on the situation.  This year it just really struck me how magical Comic Con can be for a fangirl like me, to be able to go a place where I can let my geek flag fly (note to self: make a “geek” flag for next year) because I am surrounded by people who get it.  People who appreciate all my nerdy T-shirts, people who know what I mean when I use terms like “shipping”, people who have read just as much fanfiction as me and in a lot of cases, probably a lot more.

Comic Con really is not for everyone.  There is a LOT of waiting, the chairs are really uncomfortable, and this year was particularly smelly, but it truly is THE ultimate fan mecca and therefore, my personal paradise.  Smelly nerds and all.


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