small press expo 2010

so spx was amazing this year. a lot more talent than in previous years, at least the years i attended. a significant decrease in kids who's mommies told them they could do it, or were too punk rock to learn how to draw. and an older crowd, too, it seemed. of creators, anyway. and cute girls aplenty. soooo many cute girls.
3 things have happened that make me, like, on the motherfucking prowl. for ladies.

1) there were an infinity of cute girls at the con. exhibitors, artists and attendees. and, like, some were super fit and basically TOO hot, but many were attractively desirable in an attainable way. I was not, in this scenario, assisted by my habit of becoming a fancy talker when i get nervous. that's pretty off-putting, apparently. i should just walk around with word bubbles when i want to say things. somehow it seems so much more erudite and less pretentious to be a fancy talker in text form.
2) richard is ALL ABOUT his girlfriend. not in a creepy way or anything, so don't misread me, but he is in love with her to the razor's edge of obsession. i could see his soul being pulled back to connecticut like a ghost's compass. and as admirable as i find this beautious relationship, as the single friend i felt like the third wheel when the second wheel wasn't even around. if they were a motorcycle, i would be the sidecar. and this trip the motorcycle was doing a wheelie the whole time. which is to say awkward and precarious for the sidecar. in a way it was lonelier than being a real third wheel because at least then i would have couple-y fun with the boths of them.
3) my interaction with kate beaton (who i now officially have a celebrity crush on) was not, as my pure intellect continues to remind me, flirtatious (although she was probably the one person with whom my nervous fancy talking was not a detriment) but it could be vaguely construed as, if not flirting, certainly flattering. so i feel like a fancy gentleman, now. moderately.

so. dating. i'm trying to get into that. what are girls? ffffft. seeking: comic books girls who like toys/videogames and music made by robots or humans in robot suits. or dinosaurs in robot suits. or robots in dinosaur suits. or robot dinosaurs. or skeletons. or cowboys. any combination of those elements, really. fat otakus and poets need not apply. french speaking a plus, but only because i want to practice for my life on the run in quebec and/or talk shit on people in the next booth without being understood. french scholars/french literature enthusiasts also stay home. i am not prepared to deal with that strange blend of malaise and endless, penetrating intellectualism. see also: michael chabon's mysteries of pittsburgh and c.d. payne's youth in revolt.

there was a time, before delaware, when i dated. oh, i dated plenty. and i know to some degree it's that i'm an antisocial hermit. and it probably doesn't help that i got oldfat (a smidge) or that all my friends, here, are a minimum of 5 years younger than me. but i don't remember where, exactly, in connecticut i had access to so many more social scenarios. it is a puzzlement. anyway. back on the horse; me.

i still want nothing to do with adulthood. comic books, musics, toys, games and movies are all i want. this is probably not helping in the long-term relationship department. but i'm not going to lie to you. these are the things i care about. i don't care about landscaping or wardrobe ensembles or returns on investments. i care about honor and humanity and free chai and driving with the windows down. i care about what sort of sweet nerf arsenal i will be providing my theoretical (and increasing unlikely) kids with, but have no desire to begin squirreling away money for their theoretical college fund. being a grown up does not agree with me. in one way that makes me want kids so that i have an excuse to do fun childish things (the zoo!), but in another way i don't want them because i fear my inability to override my peter pan complex and provide properly for them.

peter pan LOVES nerf!