The Prodigal Blogger Returns

Friday 27^th August, 12am

So, the problem with titling your blog, Whedon Watch, and in it describing your (however half-assed) plans to stalk His Whedonness during your exploits in America, is that the first thing you hear from anyone upon your return is, “Oh hi, welcome back – did you find Joss Whedon?”

Lucky then, that I could always quip, “No, but have I told you that I’m going to his Big Damn Keynote Speech?! Because I’m going to his Big Damn Keynote Speech.” And everyone would clap excitedly and bounce up and down. (I must note here, I suppose, that most of these people were in my head. I think all the real people tended to move on to ask politely about the less Whedon-oriented aspects of my trip. The duffers.)

It’s been a month since I got back, and having largely(/completely) neglected this poor blog since then, I haul my arse back here now to say,

I am seeing Joss Whedon tonight.

Fuck yes.

Melbourne

Would I be going too far if I wrote G33THA on his boot?

Saturday 24th July, 4.30pm

I went to Disneyland yesterday.

I came back with this:

Me, obsessed? Never.

We’re leaving tonight! I find myself thinking as fondly of late Metro trains and squishy commutes to uni as I do munching on a homemade sandwich and having long-winded discussions about nothing at all with my uni peeps when I get there.

And my bed. I long for my pillows and my cushions, and my bed that smells of nothing but my family's fabric softener, and me. The smell of oneself, and one's fabric softener, is a surprisingly comforting thing, sometimes.

Los Angeles, California

Oy, Schwarzenegger! I came back.

Wednesday 21^st July, 10pm

So here I am, peering through the bathroom window of my Anaheim hotel room to steal a glimpse of the Disneyland fireworks. I would say that I feel as though I were 8 years old again, but it was indeed my parents who leapt out of bed and hastened out the door after flinging a meagre amount of clothing on.

Clothing, which, might I add, is proving to be quite dishearteningly necessary in this climate, in a state that I once could not hear being named without silently placing the word “sunny” in front.

Los Angeles, California

P.S Alas, I’m stuck back with a 2-out-of-5-bar internet connection, which means photos are taking a tryingly long time to upload. New York picspam may have to wait till I’m back home.

On Why I Won't Be Seeing the Red-Headed Man

Wednesday 21st July, 2.30am

Ok, so I was already a little pissed off that the time that I was to be spending in LA just happened to coincide with three of the four days of the San Diego Comic-Con. You know, Comic-Con, the greatest, geekiest squee-fest in the universe. Here is an example of the nerdgasm-inducing events that occur at Comic-Con:

Anyway, for those of you that don’t know much about Californian geography, let me help you out:

Now, see the big purple lettering saying ‘SAN FRANCISCO’? You can ignore that. It’s irrelevant – I just realised that the map extended that far and wanted to highlight the fact that I’ve FRICKIN’ BIN TO THAT PLACE MAN!!, that’s all.

What I did really want to convey, however, was that very very short distance between those two dots labelled ‘LOS ANGELES’ and ‘SAN DIEGO’. One hundred and eighty-six kilometres of shortness, in fact. That’s about a two-hour drive. I could EAT a two-hour drive.

Although having digested months ago the fact that I would be in the same state during Comic-Con and unable to go, it wasn’t until a couple of weeks before we left for our All-American Family Adventure that the other implications of this dawned on me. LA is the city of Hollywood, which at any other time of the year is the one place on Earth that a nerd is most likely to have her nerdy wishes fulfilled and oh-my-I-didn’t-see-you-there-why-I-haven’t-been-stalking-your-apartment-block-at-all bump right into someone held in high esteem by her fellow inhabitants of Nerddom. Thus, not only am I not going to Comic-Con, but my already minute chances of seeing anyone who is anyone according my DVD collection are now as great as Firefly coming back for a second season, because they will be. In San Diego, that is. At Comic-Con. Entertaining thousands, of whom I am not one.

So I got over that too. Well, as much as a little nerd can, alright? Stop looking at me so dubiously!

And then, oh then – woe is me – today I found out that the one day I’m not going to Disneyland or beaching, that the one day I’m going to be in the LA city proper ...

(this day:)

... happens to be on one of the two days of this.

SIGH.

But it’s ok, because I still have a ticket to this (squee!), so never fear, The Whedon Watch won’t be altogether unfulfilled.

Atlanta, Georgia

P.S If you’re agonising over my having not yet mentioned my time in New York, it’s because I’m still recovering from it. Await picspam next blog!