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Being an internet refuge for Graeme McMillan

One of the things that really became apparent during my New York trip midway through October was how little time I had to myself on a convention trip these days. When I think of New York Comic Con, I tend to think of two things: firstly, going with Chloe, which didn’t happen this time because she was recovering from a migraine that knocked her out for more than a week. Secondly, and more importantly for the purpose of this post: having the time to go wander ’round the city after each day, before heading back to the hotel to file a story or maybe two.
Really, I think back to the days when I’d be covering the show for THR, and I got to decide what was and wasn’t a good story. Sure, I’d check in with Aaron back in LA, and he’d let me know if there was something he really wanted that might not have been on my radar, but otherwise, I’d be there under my own auspices and would have the brain space that came with that afterwards.
That wasn’t the case this year, where circumstances combined to give me more than enough to think about, and more than enough to keep me busy to the point where I only truly existed in two places during the trip: the convention center, and my hotel room, where I was either writing or failing to sleep. It was a rough trip, and I felt particularly burned out when it was over.
Just over a week later, I was in London for another show, and I had pretty much the same experience for the three days of that convention, too; it’s not that I had too much to do, per se, as much as I had just enough to do that meant that I was pretty constantly working for the entire time I was awake, even if said work was occasionally monitoring livestreams or having meetings. My brain was pretty consistently “on,” which paired with jetlag to leave me pretty intellectually and emotionally wiped out by the time the show finished. When I think back to the show — which just happened last week! — I pretty much can’t remember chunks of it because I was just reacting to whatever needed to be done at that particular moment. The show happened to me, if that makes sense.
(To a lesser extent, I think I’d say the same about the New York show.)
I’m saying this not to be all, “woe is me”; I actually love my job, even when I don’t necessarily like my job. (It is, after all, a job.) I’m aware of the opportunities I’m provided, and grateful for them, even as I can be aware of the ways in which I need to do better — and those in charge need to do better — to avoid burnout and overwhelming myself with everything. I’m saying all of this to lay the context for the image at the top of this post.
It’s nothing special, of course. It’s a picture I took while going for an aimless walk on the morning I left London, when I found myself with a couple of hours and, for the first time in… maybe a week and a half(?) , had nothing to do. I went for a short walk, with no intent other than to enjoy the calm and some fresh air. I had no agenda, and it was relatively sunny, and I felt… free. I did the same thing the morning after I arrived in Scotland, a handful of days later: just walked, with no agenda, to see what happened.
I need to make more time like that for myself in the future. Trips are better when I feel part of where I am, beyond simply seeing a convention center and a hotel room.
As is always the case, my comic book reading was impacted by comic book conventions in October — for whatever reason, I become so busy that my brain simply can’t handle the idea of reading anything that I don’t absolutely have to. With two different con trips in October that took up a couple of weeks between them, I’m honestly surprised I read as much as I did…
Like Billy Pilgrim, I am unstuck in time again.
As I write this, I’m lying in a bed in an AirBnB in Scotland, and it’s 10:56pm; I’m also just off the phone with Chloe who’s on the East Coast of the US, and it’s four hours earlier for her — until the clocks go back in the US this weekend (as I write), the usual time differences are lessened by an hour — and also thinking about everyone else back home, who is three hours in the past from that. At the same time, I feel curiously divorced from the place where I actually am; I had a sudden moment of realization that I am in the same time period as my sisters, which I know is clearly true because I spent the evening with them, and yet, almost feels impossible because it’s so rare. In a very genuine sense, I’m not sure what time it is.
A lot of this comes from the fact that this UK trip has been near-constant motion for me so far, something underscored by the fact that, this morning, I wasn’t just in another city, I was technically in another country — England, vs. Scotland — and it took me a coach (that broke down, and had to be replaced), a flight, and then an additional car ride to get where I currently am. I started my journey at 7am (having woken up at 4am, thanks to an errant text from my US healthcare provider), and didn’t arrive anywhere for the next eight hours, somehow. That’s what every day has felt like for the last… nine days? Maybe before that, even, before I even left Portland…?
It’s Friday night as I’m writing this, and I’m grateful for the fact that I don’t have to work and/or go anywhere for the next few days; I’m not working or traveling until Tuesday, so aside from day trips to Glasgow and spending time with family, I have no plans. That last part, the not having to be anywhere part, feels necessary to a degree which feels almost melodramatic to confess; as workaholic as I am, I had to tell my manager this week that I was overloaded and overstressed, and burned out as a result. I didn’t mean it in any sense that required him to do anything, but it felt important to just say it and leave the truth out there. This trip has been filled with many good, fun things; it’s also just been filled, and it’s time to take a break before I break.
What was I reading back in September? It feels like a long time ago as I write this, but the answer appears to be “I read Operation: Galactic Storm for some reason.” For those who don’t know, Operation: Galactic Storm is a Marvel crossover from the 1990s that saw all of the Avengers characters go to war in space for reasons that didn’t make any sense, based on the seeming idea that naming something after the real-life Operation: Desert Storm was anything other than a tacky idea. I’d never actually read the storyline, but thankfully Marvel Unlimited exists, and… well, honestly, it’s as bad as it sounds. But somehow, still not the worst thing I read that month. See for yourself!
Yes, the site was down again, and this time for an extended period: a whole month. (Well, just over, as it happened.) I noticed it was down almost immediately, but fixing it kept falling down a list of priorities that had far more important things on it: in the last few weeks, Chloe’s been sick, I’ve been traveling for work a lot — first to New York for a week for NYCC, and I’m currently in the UK for two different conventions and seeing my family once again — and, in between the two trips, sickness and vacations for other people meant that I was running the site at work essentially solo for an entire week, and and and. Things kept happening; fixing the site was something I wanted to do, but didn’t have time at that very moment, no matter when that very moment turned out to be.
The site being down also helped me deal with the fact that, because so much was happening, I probably would’ve struggled to keep up with it even if I’d been able to; on the New York trip — and the start of the UK trip, which was another 3 day convention for work — my days pretty much consisted of getting up, getting ready, and working straight through until dinner, then some more work, then collapsing into bed, with little or no time for reflection or relaxation in between. When I was running the site from home the week in between, my traditional worktime expanded by an hour or so daily, and the idea of spending more time looking at a screen was not a particularly attractive one. So: letting things be quiet here for awhile felt like a plus.
Now, though, it’s back. I’m back, and I have some things to catch up with — two months of comics read, if nothing else! Technology willing, I’ll be here for the long run from now on. As much as I needed the enforced break, I think, I need this outlet all the more. So, hi.
I shared the first 50 songs from my 2023 playlist a few months back, but now it’s time for the next 50. Yes, somehow this playlist has breached 100 songs already. (By the time you’re reading this, it’ll almost certainly be higher.) Again, this is a playlist of music that it, for the most part, new to me, or something that I’ve rediscovered for whatever reason and gotten newly obsessed by. There’s some really fucking good stuff on here; it’s been a pretty fucking great year for my musical discoveries, even if other parts of 2023 haven’t been too kind.
As before: go search up some of these songs yourself. Ideally, you’ll find some new favorites of your own.




