I’m having withdrawals. With each new bit of news and descriptions of footage that trickles out onto the Internet from San Diego Comic-Con, a little bit of me dies inside.

I’ve been attending SDCC for about 20 years now, almost non-stop. There was one year I decided not to go as I hadn’t gotten a hotel room, and it was just as well…as that was also the summer I cracked a tooth, and had to spend $2K on a root canal. So that was my summer vacation for that year.

This year was a little different. I was fully intending to go, even if it was just for an overnight to attend Hall H panels on Saturday and the Doctor Who panel on Sunday.

But Comic-Con screwed me.

My professional verification was due for this year’s convention, and I’d dutifully filled out my paperwork and attached my proof of verification. Only this year, I get a notification that instead of being a creative professional, they were classifying me as a trade professional(which meant that I could still get a badge, but it would be paid, not free as usual).

When I contacted Comic-Con(repeatedly, I might add) I finally got a response that my verification(in the form of a page from my webcomic) wouldn’t suffice because it ceased publication in 2016. Never mind that it says right in the professional application that verification materials can be anything produced in the last 3 years. They basically told me, “tough shit,” and informed me that I was welcome to reapply for 2018. Sure, I could have just paid the $250 and gotten a badge and gone this year, but I was pissed off. I really had the feeling that they knew they’d fucked up, but it would be work to correct it, so they instead told me that I’d fucked up. So fuck them.

Fuck.

So, here I am, sitting at my computer in Los Angeles writing this.

On the plus side, I have my new 5-month old rescue puppy, “Brienne of Arf,” to keep me busy this week. But it still feels a bit like I’m got phantom limb syndrome…it seems like I should be watching a panel or walking the show floor right now.