Is Shocked When Approached By Socially-Retarded Men: My Wizard World East Experience" by Daisy Holzapfel
Do I love comics? Yes. Do I love men? Yes. Do I love them both combined? Only occasionally. What about Philadelphia? Do I love Philadelphia, in all of its brotherly love? No, I certainly do not. Only because I had to pay 4 bucks a beer and nobody there can give good directions to save their soul. But that�s not the point of this story. I want to tell you about my Wizard World experience.
The elusive comic convention � something I�ve chased after for years, that dream always being slightly out of my grasp. Let me tell a little about me & comics. About 4 or 5 years ago, I met the dynamic duo of Tommy Timebomb and Lou-cifer, who we�ve all grown to know and love. One day, while chillin� at their pad, the boys sez to me, they sez��Daisy, look at this magazine, there�s probably some stuff in there you might find cool.� Prior to this, my only �comic� experience was reading a few issues of �Sandman� when I was a whiney, little adolescent goth; as a matter of fact, I never even thought about comic books on any level. But then those two bastards from hell handed me my first issue of Wizard Magazine. I browsed the issue, paying little-to-no attention to all the costume designs, etc., that the brothers Viencek pointed out to me. Then the most �Marvel�-ous thing happened, I saw an article on some convention, and it had pictures. And oh�oh the picture I saw. I was immediately drawn to a photo of two men, cute as could be in all my favorite hipster elements. Those two men were Joe Quesada and Jimmy Palmiotti. They seemed like gods among men, and from that point forward, I made it my quest to seek them out.
I couldn�t believe it. I mean, how could it be? Hot guys don�t read comics�or do they? And these same hot guys�they couldn�t possibly draw pictures in their books that I thought were any good�or did they? Well, to make a long story short, I began to covet every book with the Quesada/Palmiotti label the poor Viencek brothers owned, even stashed away signed copies they lent to me (well, at least until our first big falling-out). I didn�t attend the Pittsburgh Con the first year, but the second year I did, because they were supposed to attend. I did not see them. The next year, I didn�t go (can�t remember why). But then the next year, I desperately want to go. I had been submerged for the year prior in all kinds of geek culture due to my boyfriend�s supreme interest in the stuff and by this time, my interest was rapidly expanding. My boyfriend, however, did not agree with this. If I went Friday or Saturday, he thought I�d ruin his fun (ahhhem�bullshit�), though he said he�d take me Sunday (which I thought pointless). (He dumped me less than a month later, by the way). So, ONCE AGAIN, I didn�t go. This year was different. I was all set and ready to go, but unfortunately, it�s dates were smack dab in the middle of finals. I sat at home miserable. But then came Phili�
We planned and planned, prepared and I bought a fancy dress. Then I got a job, and more importantly went broke. So, I was out. But, no�wait � Fuck that! I need an internship, and just as important I needed to mind my P�s and Q�s (my heroes) and THEY were gonna be there. So off we went, and I was broke and with one very pissed off dad.
We missed Friday, but were up bright and early for Saturday and oh boy was I excited for that! Friday, we basically spent trying to find people, with no luck, but I wore my pink dress. Actually, no�I did meet someone. Some jackass little kid at the bar tried to pick me up. He tried to impress me with the fact that he was a wanna-be penciler. Big fucking deal. I hate it when guys with obviously low I.Q.�s get condescending with me, like if I�m just some dumb girl, so what the hell would I know about the �funny book� industry. Fuck you kid, whoever you were. I left the bar early to catch some z�s.
I rushed into the con on Saturday, much the same way I do Saks Fifth Avenue, like a cocaine addict just given a prescription by a crooked doctor. Then I went blind. No, really - my eyes started going wonky on me right before we left on Friday. By the time I got up to the main floor of the convention, my vision went all blurry and dim (not helped much by the fact that as soon as I walked in I saw a huge Buffy and Angel booth with a touching photo of them that got me all teary-eyed. I got some coffee and headed back down to the bottom floor for panel-o-rama.
First on my list was the CrossGen panel. They showed a preview of this new DVD thing they�re doing, which you�ll be able to read about in our news section. My first panel ever, and yes, I did enjoy it. Then after that ended, ok�slightly before it ended, I secured a seat at the Cup O� Joe thing. Yes, front and center for Quesada, I was the prime example of a happy girl. He even spoke to me. How cool is that? I would like to say this though. There were some dumb motherfuckers in that room! I swear, I wished I could run around duct-taping people�s mouths shut, so that people with REAL questions could�ve spoken. Not that I had any questions, I was content to sit and stare in awe. Then I went to the Scott Beatty thing on Period writing. That was mighty, mighty cool. Being that Ruse is one of my favorite books, I would�ve gone regardless of the subject matter, but being this was a writing-thing, it made it extra nifty. I want Mr. Beatty to come and teach at my school. He was quite helpful.
Anyway, other things about Saturday�That Walt Flannigan guy from the Kevin Smith movies put his hand on my derri�re. It�s true! I was being a dork, trying to get a picture with him and his arm slid a little low on the denim. It�s exciting I know. Then there was the night. The group of us ate pizza, passed out, and then got re-dressed to go to the bar. (I broke out my extra-fancy, black-ruffled, asymmetrical-bottomed dress.) SO we went to the bar, I encountered several stupid little boys who ever so cleverly asked my friends if anyone was �fucking me,� (how charming) and some other random dumbasses with similar agendas. But don�t let me stop there. I did finally meet cool people � at like 3 AM. My friends left to smoke dope and I stayed in the lobby, luckily, the company by this late hour was not only entertaining, but also extremely amiable. Finally, I hit the jackpot! One of these amiable sorts, was much to my delight, none other than Jimmy Palmiotti�ah�my hero! I know that I probably rambled to him unintelligibly�I know I probably gushed, but what do you expect of a tipsy fan-girl at three o�clock in the morning? I found him to amazingly kind, and cooler than I could have ever expected. Damn, I was happy!
Sunday morning was crazy and rushed as we were hung-over and trying to check out, while trying to get back to the con in time to make the Marvel Epic panel (once again, see the news section for more info), which we did with 5 minutes to spare. Hooray. I found it to be both helpful and entertaining, while still I was fortunate once again, you know � to be in the presence of Joe Q and all. My vision having returned full strength, I returned afterwards to the main floor, where I searched unsuccessfully for books containing Fenris appearances and handed out resumes. Guess what else I did? I visited Palmiotti�s booth, oh, yes, I did. Ok. So, I lingered a little too long�rambled a little too much. (I get like that when in the presence of true coolness). He signed stuff for me�geeeeeee! Then onto my favorite part of all � The Geoff Johns panel. Now, that is one cool motherfucker! I�m used to being the most cussing-est person wherever I go. I think ol� Geoffy might be on par with me there. He�s has got to be one of the most highly entertaining people I�ve ever heard speak, and he�s got coolness to spare! I wish I could hang out with him all the time. He rules! I�d also like to add that he was most encouraging, and I could never begin to thank him for all the inspiration he lent to me in that one brief meeting. Then we came home and my dad yelled at me for over an hour about my irresponsible behavior, but who cares? I was running too high on comic book love!
Going to a comic book convention may not seem like shit to all you boys who�ve been going for years. But I consider this my real �first� time, loosing my con virginity, so to speak. I can�t tell you whether this was actually a �great� one, because I have little to compare it to. It was like college with far cheaper tuition and cooler teachers. It was a rockabilly weekender without pompadours and bands. It was like heaven, if angels were all socially-awkward males. I�m home now, broke�but happy. Definitly happy. And more inspired to write one hell of a superhero story than ever.