8 Things I'll Miss About Comic-Con This Year

As some of you may recall, I spent much of last year’s Comic-Con not having a very good time. It was my first year attending as a non-employee of Cartoon Network, and the crowds were so obscene I couldn’t get into any of the panels I wanted to attend. Together, those two factors were a successful formula for one generally grumpy Chrissie.

We’re sitting this year out, partly due to a big trip to London earlier in the month and partly because we couldn’t get a hotel reservation within a mile of the convention center. As the panel schedules started coming out a couple of weeks ago, I found myself feeling wistful, wishing for a moment we had those ATL-SAN flights booked this week. Then I remembered we’d spend our days stuck outside panels we couldn’t into, and we won’t have to spend hundreds of dollars for the privilege.

Still, there are small moments I treasure from each year’s Comic-Con that I’ll miss over the next few days. As I started listing them out in my head, I realized most have nothing to do with the celebrities, the sneak preview clips, the exclusive screenings or the free stuff. Amidst all the sweaty masses and gimme-gimme stampedes, there’s an alchemy at Comic-Con that transcends the annoyances. For a pop culture fan, real life is suspended for four days and your full-time job is being surrounded by everything you love. In San Diego weather.

Here are a few of the moments I’ll be pining for this week, from afar:

1) Arriving to the departure gate at Hartsfield.
I know this seems lame, but seeing “SAN DIEGO” on the board and seats filled with people in comic-book T-shirts, many carrying poster tubes, can signal only one thing: WE’RE GOING TO COMIC-CON.

2) The first breeze that hits your face when you exit the airport in San Diego.
The weather there is nice.

3) Shopping for lunch groceries at Ralph’s.

For the past few years, we’ve been lucky enough to book a room at the Residence Inn, which features a kitchenette and refrigerator. So instead of buying $8 pretzels for lunch at the convention center, we would walk over to Ralph’s on Wednesday afternoon and buy the makings for a week’s worth of PB&Js. We also got a kick out of calling it “Malph’s,” which was the parody name of the grocery store on The Powerpuff Girls.

4) Walking into the convention center after getting our badges.
It’s such a hassle to get into Comic-Con that even if you’ve registered successfully, it feels like until you’re physically in the building someone’s going to come up and say, “Sorry, there’s been a mistake.” So after you’ve stood in your first long line, shuffling toward the badge pick-up entrance (“Are we in the right line?”), and the woman hits the Print button and hands you a lanyard and points you toward the giant bag that’s now ALL YOURS, you take a deep breath of air conditioning and it’s official: WE’RE IN!

5) The exhibit floor on Preview Night.

The air is still fresh. The merchandise is still crisp. The booth workers still have color in their faces. So much possibility (read: spending) lies ahead.

6) Late night sundaes at Ghirardelli.

When my husband and I first attended Comic-Con together–but only as coworkers, before we were dating–we chatted over giant dishes of ice cream and hot fudge after an exhausting day of panels. Since then, it’s been an annual tradition to end at least one night under the bright lights of Ghirardelli, in line behind a Stormtrooper or Halo soldier, waiting to drown ourselves in delicious chocolate.

7) Running into my favorite people all over the place.
Over my years at Cartoon Network, I got to meet some of the funniest, smartest, most talented people you can imagine–and they all go to Comic-Con. It was also a locked-in chance to catch up with a few college friends: Preview Night dinner with one who covers the convention each year and Sunday breakfast with two who live in San Diego. Maybe this year we can Skype over a bowl of queso fundido and a stack of pancakes.

8) Sunday night after Comic-Con is over.

In the last few times we’ve gone, as the Sunday lineup became more robust, we decided to stay the extra day and fly back Monday morning. Not only did we get to see a few more panels, but we also got to witness Comic-Con’s most fascinating event: teams of hired workers pulling down the barrage of marketing messages that have blanketed the city for the past five days. It’s like seeing Miss America after the evening gown competition, changing back into sweats and a T-shirt. All of the PowerPoint decks, all of the budget allotments, all of the Gantt charts that were pored over by media teams for months–it’s all over. Literally in the garbage.

Plus, with the crowds departed, we can walk peacefully around the convention center, over toward the water, enjoying the quiet. It’s almost unfathomable that 150,000 could have possibly congregated in this one space (probably because it is unfathomable). The calm lulls you and your tired bones into immediate anticipation for next year, instantly ready for more.

This year, I’ll be in that same position above, only this time on a couch, reading all the blogs and live tweets and Facebook posts from the people who are there. I’ll wish I was there with them, and then I’ll take a nice, long nap.