And this makes me sad. On the other side of the ocean, hundreds of thousands of my kindred nerds are gathered to celebrate their fandoms, and once again, I am not among them.
Realistically this is not an actual problem. There are much worse things in the world than missing out on SDCC. I’ll survive, and hopefully get a chance to go some year in the further when the stars align and I have enough money and time to go half way across the world to for a week of fangirling, feels and general nerdery. It’s okay, I figured. There’ll always be another chance.
and now I am nothing but tears and pain.
It can be tough being an Australian fangirl, purely because we are so far away from anywhere. It’s incredibly rare for anyone of note to actually come here, nothing of interest is produced here, and yet we’re utterly saturated with British and American media. We get sucked in to the stories, get attached to the characters, we become worryingly dedicated to the actors and writers behind them – and then there’s nowhere for all those pent up feelings to go. I can’t go to a convention centre with six or seven thousand of my fellow fans, get buzzed on diet coke and twizzlers and lose my shit with like-minded people because Tom freakin’ Hiddleston turned up in character to drive the hall wild.
Here, when I get excited over a new book or a movie trailer or this new show I’m enjoying, I get a lot of strange looks and, occasionally, advice to get out more. Normal girls get excited over boys and new outfits, I’m told. Horrible stereotype aside, I’m happily single and my boobs are too big for me to get into online shopping, so I get excited about stories and talented actors instead. Comic Con is a chance for my kind of people, the nerds and geeks, those of us who’ve always been a little left of centre, to connect.
So yeah, I’ve always felt a little on the outer. I’m fortunate that I have a handful of friends who’ll happily squeal and squee with me when Benedict Cumberbatch has a new film coming out, when Peter Jackson uploads a new video blog or the new season of Game of Thrones is starting. And today, we’ve been sharing our melodramatic pain as the fandom event of the year is happening and instead of feeling included, we feel more isolated than ever.
Stupid Pacific Ocean.
The most I can do at the moment is watch the shaky smartphone videos, put up with the crackly audio and read the liveblogs with barely suppressed envy while Tom Hiddleston, Scarlett Johansson, Karl Urban and other assorted idols of mine take to the stages of the San Diego convention centre and hope that one day I get to be a part of it.