The Other Stuff I Think About: The Long Con

Team Manticore attended the Central PA Comic Con two weeks ago, and then we went to another convention this past weekend.

The first went really well. We made connections, sold some stuff...

The second one was just a series of mini-terrors wrapped in terrible luck.

There was blood.

Confused cat.

So, let me start by going back to that first con.

Like I said, we were pretty successful, and we even sold the last of the Shuffle comics!

This was super exciting to me, because I had the chance to sign some stuff and feel like... I drew that thing that I drew.

There were a lot of awesome costumes, and it was great to see such diversity.

Also, like eighty Black Widows.

That is NOT a complaint.

I made some cats while we were sitting there, because they were selling faster than I thought they would.

...Some came out a little wrong.

So, now we know what it looks like when a large head is put on a small body...

Like a UFO cat.

Oops.

In any case, people were pretty happy about the up-cycled comics and "dead records", because we're making things that are otherwise going to be thrown out into something new.

Here's another shot of the tiny kitties:

We also sold a surprising number of teeth, and got some neat suggestions for Walking Dead inspired jewelry.

Good times. Good times.

The head-crab, sadly, did not find a new home that day.

Go home, Head-Crab. You're drunk.

The second con...

You know what?

Here:

Before even setting foot instead the building, I set knee inside of asphalt.

See, it was the second day of Spring, so I slipped on some ice, because New York.

It hurt like a bitch, but once I could stand at all, I realized that nothing was broken.

That was enough for me.

And honestly, I was more concerned about my hand than anything else.

So, I'm limping along...

Kinda walking bow-legged...

And I feel this cold trickling down my leg.

I figure, "It can't be blood. That would be warm."

The other problem was that I was wearing these pants:

(Post fall, hence the hole and caked-on dirt)

So I couldn't actually tell the real blood from the fake blood, because why would there be real blood when all I did was fall down wHAT??? SHUT UP I'M FINE.

At this point, I became a giant baby.

Rob ran around for first-aid stuff...

Thankfully, a week later, THIS works just fine:

I was FAR more concerned with cleaning off the extra blood, than actually tending to the wound itself.

It was pretty bad. Approximately this:

A week later, it looks more like this:

The fact is that while kids will skin their knees, that's really just a scrape.
I actually, literally, SKINNED my fucking knee. SKINNED IT.
TOOK THE SKIN OFF OF A CHUNK OF MYSELF LIKE MY KNEE WAS SOMETHING OUT OF HELLRAISER.

...and it hurt.

...and Rob got really frustrated by the fact that I was semi-in shock and just would not stop talking about my knee.

Putting up with each other is half of love.

Going to work, I refused to bring my cane.
I have one.
My father gave it to me.
It has served me well.

I don't know why I decided that I didn't need it... Cause... I did.

So, fine.
We didn't really sell anything, due to the timing of the con.

We got REALLY bored.

I made a bunny out of stuffing.