Every year since high school I’ve walked down this sidewalk for one week in July dodging geeks, camera crews and security trying to get to the line for Hall H. I have always relished my week at Comic-Con and often referred to it as the only place I truly feel at home. I can let my geek flag fly, be around people that find my interests interesting and don’t care that I know more about Scorsese than Jersey Shore or who’s dating who. I’ve always said that until I get to make movies, it’s my place - for one week my place in the world.
I’m not going this year, and it totally bums me out. Totally.
I just have to remind myself that there is a bigger plan at play. And just because I can’t go this year, doesn’t mean I’m not going again.
I just wish I could be there, with my name badge on, ready to get in line for Hall H again.