I was quite looking forward to it, as you might imagine, and I thought at last, no pinched frowns from skinny blondes in designer clobber wondering where I wandered in from. No, instead this guy practically shook me and declared I was no Kevin Smith fan and I was not to be there and the couple sitting next to me whispered meanly and audibly throughout (and a bit uppity for shop clerks from the Castle Hill outlet of Jeans West but never mind). But I did mind. It ruined my enjoyment somewhat. Just because I'd shown up in my office clothes. Clearly they are never going to pass muster in any circumstance. Sigh. I am just not going to make any new friends in this city, am I?
Pity because I'd left work early/aka on time, actually a bit late, and toddled down to the Quay where I found a cafe that was okay (no tablecloth), cause I was suddenly very hungry. The waitress was nice but the food just wasn't quite there, but it tried its best and I couldn't afford anything fancier anyway and it got me pleasantly wined and dined as I read my book. Dining alone is such a trauma, especially as some waiters can be really, really cruel, ditto diners, so I always take a book with me as a companion to take my mind of the big neon sign floating above me that declares LOSER!!!! to anyone who cares to look. I was really proud of myself for having the guts to eat alone in public but considering the savaging I suffered later I think it'll be me and toast in my room for the next month now, at the very least. Sigh. Why must people be so unkind?
Such a pity as I was in a rare, well fed and watered, cheerful mood as I wandered down to the Opera House. I sat and watched the sun set behind the Harbour Bridge (meant to take a photo but discovered trusty pocket cam had gone flat) and then it grew dark very quickly and I watched a disco party boat, which had all the speed and maneuverability of a floating dance floor as your might expect, nearly get itself rammed amidships by two ferries coming from opposite directions at the same time. They missed (to my sneaking disappointment) and the disco barge bobbed on, strobing purple light across the dark velvety waves which rolled in large lazy curves as if leviathans swam just below the surface. This was me in a mood of pleasing whimsy.
Too bad that human troll had to ruin it. Ah well, it wasn't like I was there for the guys, of which there were plenty, as they all fell into either Jay or Silent Bob types. Only far more boorish, it seems. Ah well, there's a reason why these guys can't get laid, and it wouldn't take Sherlock to discern it.
Never mind that. The Q&A was wildly unstructured, the inquistors beyond comic book guy lame, but the man himself was a riot. I was doubled over crying at several points, mostly to do with potty humour, I'm afraid. There was some interesting stuff there, though, and much dissing of Bruce Willis, Ben Affleck and the like. Twlight was dissected, as was Comic Con and the Avengers panel and there was a great story about watching Dusk to Dawn. Ya shoulda been. I could have used a buddy.
PM update: burst into tears again at the office. Most unprofessional but they were ranged against me like a French tribunal, charged with taking away yet more of my duties and telling me in no uncertain terms that I Just Was Not Good Enough. So I burst into tears. As you do (though the less than two hours sleep might have had something to do with it.)
But it's not all grim. I went downstairs for a hot chocolate, as I felt the situation was Beyond Tea, and the cafe dude said I looked like I needed a hug. I admitted same and in lieu of a hug (I quite understand) he fetched me a freebie banana muffin, with icing, no less. Better than a hug, for this affection starved misanthrope. I tried to thank him, but I was kinda verklempt. Such genuine kindness. It means....a lot. (And yes, he was only doing it to drum up business but kindness counts and deserves a good turn in return). So yes, absolutely shitty day, but I has, or rather had, muffin.
Oh and there's pumpkin soup tonight. Or rather, the remainder of the most excellent soup himself whipped up on Sunday (alas the recipe isn't online or I'd share it with you). We might be eating cheaply but it's not as dire as before.
Oh, the Brit List may be delayed. I think I need an early night tonight. Well, earylish. But just tv and tea, no multitasking tonight. It's been a bit too much for that.
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