So yesterday, in an attempt to pull me out of the glums, my husband surprised me with a one day pass to Comic-Con, which if you are not aware is an event where 125,000 people descend on the city in ill-fitting Transformers costumes and pack the convention center in a celebration of pretty much everything pop culture. It is massive, but getting in these days is like getting a Golden Ticket. So of course I had to go.
First, I tried to get into the Game of Thrones panel, since the book’s author and many stars of the show were going to be there. It seemed like it would be interesting. We went up to the room where the talk was going to be held two hours before the panel, and found out the line was already three hours long. OK, so that was out.
Then I went to the area where Mattel was selling Comic-Con exclusives, such as a Green Lantern Barbie and a Frankenberry Hot Wheels. People were shoving, pushing, and otherwise ready to come to fisticuffs to get a place in line. So I waited quietly at the edge, and when the line opened grabbed the 5 year old beside me who was about to get trampled, threw a few elbows into the Ferengi on the left, and got us both into line. What, you think I’d pass up a Barbie?
I didn’t need to see a Phineas and Ferb life size bus, nor did I want to wait in line for an autograph from one of the Dexter stars (though I do love the show dearly), so I wandered over to the quieter area where the artists had set up shop.
The art there was beautiful, things for all tastes and styles. From across the aisle, my eye alighted on a whimsical piece with a little kitten playing with a balloon and I shot across the carpet to check it out. And then I saw this:
Which looks pretty much just like Emmett and my daughter.
The artist, the exceptionally talented Brittney Lee, smiled and looked up, and there I was, sniffling. Which is probably not the response she usually gets to her work. People at the Comic-Con are outrageous, and excitable, are sometimes angry or irritable, but I don’t know if “cathartic crying” is one of the usual emotions exhibited. Outside the Twilight sessions, of course.
Well, needless to say I bought it, and I’ll give to to my daughter for her room.