Don’t race to your destination – appreciate the scenery.

As a fairly relaxed sort of person, I’d normally champion this  cookie fortune. However, and there’s always a however, today was Oz Comic Con day and I’ve never been in a bigger rush to leave a place like I experienced today. Well maybe once when I was at the destitute Olympic village in Heidelberg here in Melbourne. Ever been there? Depressing isn’t it?

Arrived at about 9.45am ticket in hand ready for a day of hugging people in costumes and spending more money than I should on comics. I saw lots of people lining up and thought these must be the ill prepared, lucky I bought ahead! Wrong, so wrong it was three different kinds of wrong.

The line for ticket holders stretched from outside the convention centre at around the marker for door three, snaked toward the Yarra (yup, the opposite direction of the entrance), wound back around along Clarendon St, up the only visible ramp to the entrance of the centre (not Comic Con) and then continued inside.

As with most of these kinds of events, you line up to get in and that’s part of the fun. That’s where I start picking out who gets hugged first, what’s going to feel better to squeeze (didn’t see any wookies so it wasn’t looking promising). The line is the scenery on the way to my destination. I don’t like to rush it, but I like for it to at least move. And movement didn’t figure in this line.

At 10.10am after finally getting inside the centre and feeling like we might be getting somewhere, I glanced to my left and realised that it was not longer straight to the gate. We had a quadruple bended zigzag to pass though before the final straight. My glance turned to a stare because, well, I had enough time. No one was moving. And it was at this point when I realised three things, three kinds of wrong;

1. the map for the event listed only a few comic stands,

2. they’d filled the venue to capacity and weren’t letting anyone else in until people left, and

3. I’m going to need a toilet, a coffee, and a cigarette in that order over the next half hour.

Assessing the situation I estimated at least a further one and half hours before we got a look in so I turned to my ever patient partner, shook my head and said the most honest words to pass my lips since saying ‘I hope I can find issue one of Scratch 9 inside, I lost my last one.‘ Those words were “I’d gladly see this $20 ticket as my paying to not stand in this line another minute.” And with that, we left. And I cried from my left eye a little.

You know what pisses me off the most about it? No, I don’t either there’s too much to pick out just one thing.

Essentially my destination probably wouldn’t have been worth racing for given the lack of comic stands at a comic convention. With that in mind, I couldn’t even make the most of the scenery. It was saddening to me knowing I wasn’t alone in my growing ire at the queue.

Comic expos are really exciting to line up for, there’s a shared buzz and a real sense of community and belonging. But today Oz Comic Con destroyed it by being as well organised as a nappyless six month old with gastroenteritis.

Well done you idiotic wankers. I’m sure the guy outside in the wheelchair was really heartened by the fact that you chose to clog the ramp with disgruntled ticket holders when there are plentiful other entrances to the centre. And Melbourne Convention Centre, you’re a pack of fools for giving these kids the keys to the car.

Sometimes racing to your destination (ie, the car upon leaving) yields the sweetest scenery – Oz Comic Con disappearing into the background.

Lucky Numbers: 1, 6, 33, 34, 38, 45

1;  finger up to you Oz Comic Con

Say nothing until you confirm your suspicions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lucky Numbers:  32, 25, 11, 9, 6, 26

No wind, no waves.

I might care more about this if I knowingly relied on wave powered turbines. But I don’t, or am at least unaware of it if I do. I hate the wind, it rarely brings anything good to a day. The wind does very strange things to people and their brains. Also animals.

I live in Melbourne, a hugely populated city and generally rather windy. This of course means that I’m faced with the prospect of sudden onset of craziness in my fellow citizens at any given moment of the day or night. You might say I’m faced with waves of odd stirrings, frankly I could live without it. No, shut up, I don’t dislike it so much that I want to move away from Melbourne.

Bursts of chaos in busy streets. Pedestrians losing directional and spatial awareness, being assaulted by falling autumn leaves, or the occasional loose rubbish. Being unable to remain calmly upright in the big gusts. And knowing that, depending on the direction of the wind, it could take a lot longer or no time at all to get where you need to be. This is human life quite literally at the mercy of an element. And it drives people a little insane! It’s actually a pretty interesting thing to observe.

We have no control over the wind. It’s driving for us, and it can be fierce in a tense situation. That’s road rage no one wants to witness. The wind distracts our senses. Drives us to thirst. Deafens us with howls and window shaking. Spits dust in our eyes. Attacks olfaction with any number of environmental sources. Cold wind hurts and hot wind sticks.

It decides how we look, it changes our hair and ruffles our clothes. It decides how we feel, stifled by heat, or frozen stiff. It dries us out and it chases us around corners, down alleys and up stairs. And we can’t escape it, we can’t bargain with it, we can do nothing to stop the wind achieving it’s will.

I try to avoid crowds in windy weather because I’m not the greatest at dealing with masses of people who subconsciously know the only steady thing happening to them is a heartbeat and even that’s out of their control. However, this coming weekend brings the first ever Oz Comic Con in Melbourne.

As a regular to Supanova events, saddened by the fact I get a feast of comic book shop love under one roof only once a year, I’m really excited to get a second hit this Saturday! And the weather is going to be crap-tacular! Luckily no gale is on the forecast, but 20-35 km/hr winds are enough to get a crowd half way to loony. That’s a glass half empty true, but it the full half that worries me.

Hey, come on now it’s not so bad. It’s entirely indoors, even the line up to get in will be behind the floor to ceiling windows of Jeff’s Shed. And besides, I like … nay,love … the patrons of such events. This is a wave of potential wind driven madness I’m looking forward to!

Wind, I can’t stop you creating all the waves of merciless torment you want – but I’m buying comics this weekend and you can’t stop me!

Lucky Numbers: 9, 16, 21, 26, 30, 33

16: dollars (each, give or take) for another couple of Unwritten or Transmetropolitan TPB’s

21: one dollar more that the Oz Comic Con ticket price

33: other dollars I’ll spend on stuff no one needs, but damn it’s cool how could I not need that!

 

 

 

Versatility is one of your outstanding traits.

Mike D said it first “Maybe it’s because I’m so versatile” and I said it second as “I’m the Meena, so versatile.” It’ll make more sense when I tell you that Meena is one of my various monikers. So yes, this cookie fortune might be right on the money.

That is if you’re money is hedged on versatility in re-writing, possibly butchering, song lyrics.

It started at a young age with my older sister and I singing Groovy pair of gloves by Phil Collins, and Do the booger motion by Kylie Minogue. And it continued on throughout my life now to the point where some of my only input in conversation with peers is to liken their contributing story to a song lyric, then slightly changing those lyrics to better suit the situation. However, I’m not really conversing right now, this is rhetoric so I can’t just lay it down right here. It weakens the post I know, but I’m ok with that.

Versatility. Really the word makes me think of some kind of unit more than a human quality. Which leads me to thinking, given the above example is it me who is versatile, or is it the lyrics and tunes of those songs I’m altering?

Maybe neither. Perhaps my outstanding trait of versatility is merely identifying a situation and applying a suitable soundtrack to match. But we all do that, surely? I can’t be so self indulgent as to believe that I am one of a few who holds this (let’s face it, pretty useless) gift.

No I think the versatility is being able to source and apply fun in different situations. Evidently that fun is in the form of reducing a situation to re-worded  rhyme. So I’m a crap conversationalist, but I’m happy to be there all the same! At any rate, I’m really just quite happy to think it’s possible I have an outstanding trait! Who doesn’t want to feel that kind of happy?

Lucky Numbers: 8, 13, 23, 28, 39, 45

8 ; is what it is

13;  1+3 = 4, half of 8