Penguicon kicked my ass in all the right ways.
The hotel room at the Sheraton was SWANK. That king-size bed was ultra-comfy.
I ran the Neverwhere screening from 2:30 AM to 5:30 AM on Sunday morning, with the lovely
I had terrific food all weekend. I went to some schweet panels (and one lame one). I got my Adventures in the Dream Trade signed my Neil Gaiman. I got a picture with Neil Gaiman. I, of course, was a total fanboy. Apparently, due to a dislike of crab, California rolls are not his thing.
/fanboy
I also spent a LOT of money at the charity auction for the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund. All for a fantastic cause, and I got many, many cool things, including a raver-lighter with a green flame, a ridiculous tie, issues 1-22 of Transmetropolitan, and some ORIGINAL SLUGGY FREELANCE artwork. Like, the shit he drew and scanned in to post the comic. A couple from last week, and a couple from last month. With the vampire plot. I was so stoked.
More on the con and how cool it was as it bubbles to the surface, I’m sure.
The important part is that I had a vacation that I desperately needed and it was amazingly stress-free and perfectly rejuvenating.