Sunday, May 20, 2012

# life # phoenix comicon 2012

The Press Badge (Part 1)

Some of you have asked about what it's like to be considered a member of the press when I attend events. So, welcome to my behind the scenes look of a not so glamorous press agent as I walk you through what it's like for me to prepare and attend Phoenix Comicon 2012.

It started way back in February when, with the support of some amazing people, I decided to go ahead and apply for a press badge. I was plum sure that there would be absolutely no way that they would say yes. I do believe that I nearly fell off my bed when I received the email saying yes!

Then, I put the whole thing on the back burner. Sure, I thought about the show. I even pondered whether or not I'd do any interviews there. Then, I thought, nah, I'm not real press. It doesn't matter how many times I've been told that I am or that I'm part of the comic book industry, I just never believe it.

Fast forward to about a week ago when suddenly I realized how fast this show was looming! I bet you can guess what happened. I started to panic. I suddenly realized that I did want to do interviews and meet people and omg what am I going to do? Yep, glamorous, I'm tellin ya. So what did I do? I did what any good reporter would. I turned to Facebook and contacted 4 of my friends in the industry and said please oh please can I interview you? I promise it will be painless! Thank goodness, they all came back and said sure. Whew!

Up next? Clothing. Oh dear heavens, what am I going to wear for 4 days in a gazillion degree heat that will be cute and sassy and sexy (maybe?) but still professional. This brought about the dreaded shopping trip. Now y'all know that I've lost some weight. In fact, I'm down nearly 3 sizes, not quite but nearly. You also know I live in the middle of nowhere and my shopping is limited to Walmart and K-mart. Yippee! Neither store is exactly known for their plus size selections. It took me 2 days but I finally got most of what I needed..combined with some last minute panicked shopping the week prior. I'm still short a few pieces but I'm praying that my own closet will reveal to me something I've forgotten I own.

Did I mention that I had to go bathing suit shopping? My trusted suit of the past..umm...lot of years is finally wearing out and 3 stores later, I found the following selections:

Yeah, aren't those fabulous? Loaded down with no less than 7 versions of the same 3 suits, I headed into the changing rooms. I wiggled, I squirmed, I tugged and pulled and managed to try them all on. Same size suits and yet they all fit totally different! I muttered a lot about how "the man" so nonchalantly sent me to my doom while all he has to do is go buy a pair of shorts. I think it took me 20 minutes to wriggle and squirm in and out of suit after suit until I finally found one that actually fit! You gals know how it get one foot in, but there's no way to balance while you put the other one in so you drift around, bouncing off the walls like a drunken sailor (but without the fun of the booze!). Once you've managed to not knock yourself out, you stand and you tug and you pull and you do a weird little dance, hoping against hope that it will just get past your hips. Then suddenly...success! It's up to your waist! From here it should be smooth sailing, but no! Now, there are the dreaded mountains of boobies to get past! If you're lucky, the suit covers them...if you're not...well, let's just say a sailor would love to see that. In the end, resigned, you grab desperately at the one lone suit which covers the mountains and the hills and the valleys and you throw it on the counter, just begging the poor check out girl to ring it up before the suit changes it's mind....

Tune in next time to hear the glories of paperwork...


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