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comic-con 2005

We came. We saw. We did not conquer.

For some reason, A. and I didn’t find much that we were interested in at this year’s Con. Usually there’s a booth, a graphic novel, a piece of artwork by a new artist that intrigues us, that draws us in like a tractor beam. But this year, even though we were there for an extra day, we got caught up in the sea of unwashed nerd flesh and were propelled forward like zombies, stumbling forward, seeing nothing.

That’s not to say that there was nothing there. I met up with my friends from Canada for drinks and they showed me all sorts of goodies.

Where are you finding this stuff? I asked.

They assured me that it was all on the floor, but I’m still convinced that there was some sort of secret passageway that A. and I missed.

However, that’s not to say that nothing happened.

My Boyfriend is a Rock Star, Part One

Sunday was the day of the Cartoon Network Panel, and in true cheerleader-girlfriend form, I wore my red shirt with a picture of Grim on the front, procured from some sort of Cartoon Network function. A., his parents, and I stood in the crosswalk in front of the convention center, waiting for the light to change. A girl of about ten pointed at me and whispered to the couple who I imagined to be her parents

That’s the shirt I want.

I turned and smiled. Are you talking about me?

She blushed and nodded her head. Billy and Mandy is my favorite.

I pointed at A. You’re in luck. That guy over there created it.

Her eyes grew wide.

Hello, A. said. She turned red again.

He’s going to be on a panel at one o’clock, I told her, so you guys should come and check it out.

She nodded. The light turned green and we made our way across the street.


The Adult Swim Party: The Girlfriend!

Cartoon Network hosted an Adult Swim party at the Wonderbread Warehouse about a mile from the convention center. Like last year, invitations were tough to come by and the guest list was guarded like a national secret. A. and I made our way through the throng, and much like last year, agreed that we knew no one.

However, unlike last year, we decided this was the Year to Mingle. We wandered about the crowd introducing ourselves like we running for office. We met folks from Marketing, Programming and Merchandising. A. introduced me to the head of the network. Everyone asked the same question.

And what do you do? they all asked.

Oh, I’m the girlfriend, I replied.

That’s a lie, A. said, she’s a writer. She wrote on Lizzie McGuire.

It’s not that I don’t try to promote myself – I do – but this was A.’s function and I wanted the spotlight to be on him. Besides, I was feeling rather pathetic. Yes, we freelance plenty and I still make enough money to live comfortably, but I haven’t worked a regular job in nearly two years. I turned to A.

The Girlfriend is my superhero name but I’d rather have it be my secret identity.

He nodded. Don’t worry, it will.


The Adult Swim Party: Smokin’ with Master Shake

At some point, A. and I got separated and I was talking to K., the President of Programming and one of my favorite people in the Universe when three men ambled by. I recognized one from last year’s party.

We meet again, Master Shake.

He looked at me. You look familiar.

We shared a cigarette at last year’s party.

He nodded. Shall we?

Let’s.

I headed outside with the trio and took out the pack of Vanilla Cloves I bought just for the occasion. The four of us stood and smoked. Somehow, the conversation turned to picking up women. D. – Master Shake – told me that he wasn’t very lucky at the endeavor.

This is what you do, I told him, you turn to a girl, and say I’m Master Shake. Wanna fuck?

He laughed. I don’t think that would work.

Then you’re talking to the wrong girls.

With that, I dropped my cigarette,ground it out with my boot, and headed back inside.



Stand and (Don’t) Deliver

The next day. A. and I were collapsed on a couch at the Hilton, waiting to check into our second hotel (I couldn’t get us a room at the same place both nights) when the head of Carton Network ambled through the lobby.

Hey lovebirds.

A. stood up and greeted him. I winced with pain.

B., I told him, I know I should stand and greet you and I know this is making a terrible impression but my feet are killing me.

He laughed. It’s okay, he said.

No, it’s really not, I replied. But I know it’s not, and I hope that that earns me an extra point or two,

B. laughs and walks off. I turn to A.

I’m going to be the Girl that Didn’t Stand.

I think it’s okay, he said.

It’s really not. But I really am that tired.


Q & A

Wednesday night was a Casino Night Party at Cartoon Network. At one point in the evening, one of the heads of the studio in Atlanta sat down at our Blackjack table. The dealer showed a queen. He had two sixes.

I’ll split, he said.

You don’t split two sixes against a queen, I told him.

Everyone laughed. He lost both hands and left. The next day, I discovered he was moderating the panel that A. was on and he had sent A. a list of questions. The second to last question read

Mandy seems sort of dark and bossy – is that what you look for in a partner?

A. couldn’t wait to answer it at the panel. But he never ended up asking it. Alas. He did get asked what are the three most important things in putting together a show? A. answered

Luck, a great crew, and it helps if your name is Genndy or Craig.


My Boyfriend is a Rock Star, Part Two

When the panel ended, the creators were all swamped with autograph requests, so I stood to the side and took picture. Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned. It was the ten year old girl from the beginning of the day standing there with her parents.

Hello again, her mother said.

Did you guys have fun?

Everyone nodded. You should get in there and get an autograph, I told the little girl.

She looked upset. I don’t have anything for him to sign.

Let me look in my purse, I told her. I scrambled around for a piece of paper, and then it hit me.

I handed her a notecard. If it’s okay, you guys can give me your name and address and I’ll have him personally sign a comic book and draw a little picture on it. Would that be okay? I looked through my purse and grabbed a Billy & Mandy pen.

They made a pen? she said.

There’s only like a hundred of them. I don’t think they’re for sale.

Oh, she said. She grabbed the pen and scribbled down her name and address. She handed the pen back to me.

I shook my head. Keep it.

Are you sure? asked her mom.

Positive.

The little girl handed me the notecard. I looked at it - they had traveled all the way from New Jersey.

Do you guys come every year?

This is the first, her father said, but I don’t know if we can top this. They both shook my hand. Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this means to her.

He gets to make a show because you guys watch it, I told them. So thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me.

I waved and they were off.

See you all in 2006.