If you’ve known me for five minutes you probably know that I am a geek. Not only that, I am proud of it. I am practically an apostle of all things geek culture: books, movies, games, series, you name it. I grew up watching Jean-Luc Picard explore the galaxy and learning to write inTengwar. In my undergrad I won two Hogwarts House Cups for Slytherin (yes, that’s right, Slytherins rule. Literally. Deal with it.), went to midnight showings for ROTK (Return of the King) in costume, was a gold badge Red vs Blue fan, learned a lot of Japanese via anime, and became a more than decent Halo player.
By the time I left my undergrad my identity felt pretty hardened as “that girl who can write you a stellar essay on the literary quality of post-victorian literature and how it relates to family constructions in Harry Potter, while beating your @$$ at Halo and cursing at you in Japanese the whole time.” I was not just a gamer girl, but an educated and capable one if I do say so myself.
So naturally Emerald City Comicon (ECC) is a little bit of heaven. But there’s one catch. After graduating from my undergrad degree, something happened. First I got a job. A really nice job but it took up a lot of my free time. Then my boyfriend (as big a geek as I am) proposed to me, and so I had to plan a wedding too. By the end of that summer, I was no longer downloading the latest chapter of Bleach every week, or on top of the new season of RvB.
Read the rest of the article here!