I looked at my calendar and I've got a sick day scheduled for tomorrow.  Four doctors appointments and one DMV appointment.  I'm probably going to get home later than normal, which seems wrong for a day that I'm not going to be in the office.

I got the confirmation yesterday.  My request to return my SDCC 4-day membership pass was accepted and processed.  I no longer have a pass.  I'm not going for the first time in 12 years.  I find this whole thing terribly sad.

Well, I finally sucked it up and sent an email this morning asking Comic-Con how I go about returning my 4-day pass (that I waited in line for what?  8 hours for last year?).  I hope it's not too complicated, I just want to get it done and over with.  I was up a good portion of the night last night, unable to sleep.  That gave me time to think, why was I procrastinating?  Why don't I just return the damn thing and get it over with?  There's no way that I'm ready to face going and I doubt I will be in July either. 

You know, it was 12 years ago when I had my pivotal "coming out" moment.  I was 30 years-old and finally decided to stop hiding the fact that I loved comic books and superheroes from my friends, family and co-workers.  I'd been keeping it a shameful secret for years and years.  One day I got a postcard in the mail (I have no idea how they got my name and address) that advertised that the passes were now on sale.  Something clicked in my head.  "I'm going to go!".  I went to my first Comic-Con in San Diego a couple months later and I loved it.  I absolutely loved it.  Back then I drove back and forth each day, which was nuts.  It was worth it though.  It felt so nice to be with thousands of people just like me.  People who understand that those stories ARE literature.  They ARE an important part of our culture.  They AREN'T just cartoon pictures and dumb stories.  The talented people who were able to make careers in the comic book industry got so much of my respect.  The writers that managed to come up with fresh, interesting, relevant, topical and important story lines month after month were beyond phenominal to me.  I wish I had that talent!  Then there were artists that managed to make everything look amazing.  To be lucky enough to have that as your career of choice?  Wow.  Everyone behind the scenes, well they did more stuff than I could go into here, but they are just as important.  Maybe more so.

Those days in July turned into the only real vacation time I took off from work each year.  I looked forward to it every July.  "Where would I stay?  I hope I can get in to the Sofia again!"  "Should I take the train or drive down?".  I was confident in my hobby, my passion.  I would start to get excited every year around this time.  I can't describe the feeling.  I would gladly debate anyone who thought it was stupid and just something for little boys.

Look at me now, I've packed up everything related to comics and hid them away so I don't have to look at them.  I haven't read a comic book in months and months and months.  I think my comic book shop finally took me off their list of people with pulls after I failed to show up so many times when I was supposed to come in and buy my books and update my list.  If I'm honest, I'm ashamed to admit to it.

Jeez, what happened to that strong woman?