peg and i had a good laugh over what would be a really funny (but weak) retort to any nasty insults hurled our way. observe:

meanie: “you are such a _________”
response: “yeah?!…well….i’m not….”

meanie: “you are so _______”
response: “yeah?!!!….well…i’m NOT…”

pretty good, right? i know, you’re floored by the geniusness.

it dawned on me that i shouldn’t be afraid to commit to non-photographic entries. sometimes i should just let the stream of consciousness rip n roar. for instance, lately i’ve had to get up and pee in the middle of the night. sometimes twice. and that’s obnoxious! it makes for fitful sleep.

after a long period of unproductive waffling, i finally got a bike. the opportunity to buy a used one — old, but a great reputable brand, and fun to ride — fell into my lap just at the nick of time. on several occasions i almost compulsively bought one cuz i couldn’t stand not being able to experience the joyous sensation of riding. not to mention the efficiency it introduces to one’s daily routine! what i’m not savoring is the agony it brings upon my poor crotch and battered cheeks. it’s super discouraging when you’re going up a barely-there incline and all you want to do is die. i hope my shoddy fitness and clumsiness doesn’t get the best of me.

also, the hiatus was stifling, but somehow i managed to get back into the gym, and have been going consistently for almost a month, if not more. albeit, it’s not as often during the week as i’d prefer, but i’m trying and making it a big priority. at this point, i feel like i’m conducting an experiment on my body to see what it takes to reap changes. determined to see something, anything, because i hate the current painful package i come in.

we’re going down south for con this weekend. crazy fun times will ensue, what with the winning social make up comprising peg, anthony, derek, fran, hellen, calvin, ryry, evan, so forth. it’ll be only my third time as a pure spectator, since previous years i worked for the comic relief mega booth. so strange, seeing the same folks over and over again, witnessing how they’ve evolved, some over a course of a decade.

my first ever comic convention was APE, when it was in san jose, and i was an angsty 16 or 17 year old. that was when i first met _____, a stylish, handsome, talented, and kind chap who sold me some of his work (which was partly pivotal for starting my “indie” comic obsession) and did a charming sketch in my book. well of course i developed a tiny crush on him, which would lie dormant and surface when i’d see him at subsequent conventions. the crush, harmless in itself, probably germinated because he seemed like such an ideal during an idealistic period of my life, when all i wanted to do was what he was doing, making good comics/art. anyway, he’d always offer a casual “oh hey! what’s up” acknowledgment during later run ins, partly as a show of gratitude for my support, and that would be the extent of our friendly but perfunctory exchange. over the years we’ve aged, and i’ve seen from afar how he’s aged (more salt, less pepper; more jowliness); life progressed. he married, had a child, and god knows how old the kid is now. his art’s always improving, onwards and upwards.

i don’t know why i’m talking about this, other than the fact that it’s interesting how strangers have the ability to make even the slightest impact and symbolize meaningful things in your life. it’s been a long time since i’ve seen this guy, and to be honest, i could care less. but it’s funny how his name alone will conjure up all these bittersweet memories of the girl i was. suddenly i can distinctly remember that first APE: all the nice soulful people, my first encounter with giant robot (jenny shimizu cover), dan wu of oriental whatever (coolest eye-opening thing ever at the time), gene yang (during his xeric days). i can even tell you what i was wearing. it was an entirely new, exciting world that filled me with a fiery passion that’s only native to teen territory.

as nostalgic and sentimental as this particular trip down memory lane is, it’s weighed down with a sorrowful sense of regret and disappointment. how i never created something like i promised myself i would, how i fantasized about one day being behind the table as a producer and not a patron. sucks, but hey that’s life: confronting and coping with the reality that 1) rarely will things turn out the way you want and 2) rarely will you be the person you sought out to be. but how can you retool this ostensibly difficult reality into a positive, healthy thing?

so yeah, that was a long time ago. i think it’d be quite magical to dig through the old sketchbook that i dorkily took to my early cons, in which i’d collect artistic contributions of all the talent i admired. what’d i give to flip through it again.

i’m going to shut up now.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008 at 12:54 am and is filed under comics, history, random. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.