There’s nothing long with a man appreciating another man’s shining flaxen hair.
October always turns out to be an incredibly busy month for me, but one of the most enjoyable time commitments therein in New York Comic Con. It’s a phenomenon. I can think of no more fittingly ambiguous word. The common trait of conventions is a roiling nexus of people and energy all there to celebrate a common subculture. Some people, understandably, are not into this: if you have any kind of anxiety related to crowds, this type of event is clearly not for you. Those cases aside, I just find it an incredibly exciting atmosphere. Part of it is just marveling at the number of people gathered who are all into at least some of the same nerdery as you. I like the community. I like the dedication.
It’s also good to go with ol’ Floydsy. It’s tough to find time to hang out with such a good friend with both our lives as busy as they are, so if we can do it and walk around a conventional hall full of comics and home-made costumes it’s a well-iced cake indeed. A friendship cake.
A cake that doesn’t ask questions if one slice of said cake disappears for a few hours and comes back with a mysteriously signed copy of The Deathly Hallows Part II.