We got up at a good time. Patricia left for Moncton around 11am to pick up the woman who had furnished her with a free ticket to see Bruce Springsteen.
There was only the one free ticket. That's why I didn't go.
To assuage my disappointment, I agreed to cover the Hal-Con barbecue at Giant Robot Comics in Dartmouth. To do this, I had to go over to... Dartmouth! That place doesn't get any easier to navigate through. I mean, would it kill them to put up some damned road signs? Seriously. Would their life force drain out of them if they put up signs indicating what road you're on, and which one you're turning on to? With a font bigger than this, I mean?
I made the wrong turn a couple of times. I drove past the place where I was supposed to go, a couple of times. And I nearly screamed with a vexatious, impotent fury and only managed to subdue it for a moment when I finally, at long last, chanced up on the place I was to go.
It's not the store's fault. It's not Hal-Con's fault. And I don't think it's my fault. It's the fault of the people who designed Dartmouth under the assumption that everybody knows where every street is all the time, so labelling the streets is largely unnecessary. I would like to have a conversation with them.
Anyway. I got there, finally. I started taking pictures. My favourite 14 are up on my Facebook, my blog Facebook fan page, and of course, the main Hal-Con page. Which you're welcome to "like" to learn all you want to know about Hal-Con, coming up in a mere 60 days.
I returned home around 3:45. I have been surfing the web and watching movies and episodes of Breaking Bad ever since. Patricia is probably having a great time at the concert. I had a great day without her.
I didn't want to go!
Really! I didn't want to go!
See you tomorrow.