Because I was afraid that I would oversleep and miss my flight, and because really I was still kind of packing all night, I did not sleep last night at all. I managed to have everything nice and ready to go earlier than expected, but I still managed to get a little panic in there by not showering until after I called the cab to come get me in half an hour. We must do these things to keep our energy levels high.

My only notable nonstandard airport experience was that I was very scornfully ejected from a bar-type restaurant in the terminal into which I had brought my Sausage McMuffin from next door, in search of a place to sit down. But that one was really my fault.

The Chicago to Los Angeles flight had me drifting in and out of consciousness. Spider-Man was the movie of the day, and I missed how he got his powers, but I saw his Uncle Ben die, and then I missed the part with the Green Goblin attacking the balcony, but I saw the part after that, and then I missed the end. This is due in no small part to the fact that I drank a Red Bull earlier in the morning to keep myself awake, but took some dramamine almost immediately after takeoff when I realized how nervous I was about flying.

The Los Angeles to San Diego flight was notable in that I spent twice as long waiting for the flight than I did in the air. It was a nice view of the coastline, however. They still managed to get beverage service in. I barely had time to drink my soda.

I made it to San Diego at about 2:30 PM. I took a taxi to my motel and checked in, and decided to chill out for a little bit before I hit the Comic-Con. As I left for the convention center, I wandered through the motel lobby and asked the clerk on duty the easiest way to get there. He gave me simple instructions – oh, it’s easy, just go down this road, turn right, go straight until you hit this road, then turn right again, and then straight on until morning. I started on my merry way and it took me about half a mile before I realized he had given me driving directions. I was walking along a highway.

I looked for cabs but didn’t see any, so I decided to keep on walking. I looked at my watch and realized I was already way late for that X-Men panel I wanted to attend, so I decided to relax and enjoy the walk. After about an hour of wandering through scuzzy industrial and commercial districts, I finally ended up in what appeared to be downtown. Sure enough, I had made it to the con.

I wandered in, paid my admission, and started in on my number one con activity: drifting among the booths in a daze, with no particular goal in mind. Nothing to buy, really, no creators I was dying to meet.

After the con closed for the day, thousands of people scattered out of the convention center and settled into downtown San Diego’s various eateries. I managed to meet up with some regulars from Delphiforums. The five of us wandered into town, intending to go to somewhere called Dick’s, which is apparently famous for its obnoxious waitstaff who throw napkins on the floor, or something like that. Instead, we ended up next door at a restaurant called the Gaslamp Strip Club.

It’s not a strip club at all, though; the gimmick is you order your steak and they bring you the raw cut of meat, which you then take to a grill and cook yourself. In addition, there were drawings of naked women decorating the walls, and all the waitresses were extremely attractive in a bizarrely uniform way. We all agreed that the restaurant was in fact a very special place, and in fact we returned there later tonight with a larger group of people after drinking at the Marriott fell through in a way that I am legally obligated not to repeat.

Eventually, I caught a cab back to my motel, where I am writing this. I am tired. More tomorrow.