Toy Fair

So I spent most of last week at Toy Fair in New York. Which meant that I had to fly to New York. I flew American again, because I've got a frequent flier account with them and I'm trying to save up for that ticket to the South Pacific (the one where I go to an island and then just decide to never come back). American is a pretty decent airline. Flying has become so routine it's almost scary. Things that used to bother me - takeoff, turbulence, the smell of jet fuel - I hardly bat an eye anymore.

The hotel - the Ramada Plaza New Yorker (owned by the Moonies, I learned) - was not routine. It was fucking bullshit. It took me two and a half hours to check in. I got to the hotel about 9:00 PM New York time. I was told that my room wasn't ready yet, and was still being cleaned. At 9:00 PM. Huh? So I thought, OK, sure, room's still being cleaned. I stashed my bags and found some food, and came back an hour and a half later. The guy I spoke with, who had a grasp of the English language similar to, say, an eggplant, told me that I could just come back to him so I wouldn't have to wait in line. I ended up waiting in line anyway, for another half-hour. Then, they told me that the company's credit card was declined. I promptly called our convention manager, who came downstairs and put a boot up the hotel's ass. And all this was for a room barely larger than my bathroom, which a bed that felt like a slab of bricks.

It was up early the next day for Toy Fair. All four days of Toy Fair was basically a rush to sell our stuff to press and retailers. And, a rush to get some really cool loot. I ended up with some very interesting games, including Geist, a ghost-hunting game; Howling Monkeys, a game about communication; and a copy of Master and Commander: The Game, made by local folk at Front Porch Classics. The game was originally designed as a press kit for the movie, and I saw it at Eliott Bay Books a while back and haven't seen it since. I was very happy that they had a copy, because it was an extremely limited print run for the game.

Aside from the loot, there isn't much to say about Toy Fair. I dragged Jon out to Astoria for Uncle George's, the greatest Greek food known to humankind. And no, I'm not joking. They've got the best grape leaves I've ever jammed in my piehole.

Flying back was one of the hardest parts of the show, because I had to be up at 4:15 AM New York time (roughly 1:15 AM Seattle time). That was yesterday. I just sat around staring at nothing and trying not to fall asleep, and I cleaned up the apartment. In fact, it's looking really clean, which is great. I didn't come into work, and I'm glad because my company announced a major change to its program on Monday, and players are in lynch mob mode. Like too many others in discourse these days, they are letting the negativity rule their feelings and not paying attention to some of the larger picture. I have no problem with them being angry, but the ones who get personal about it need to think about what they are saying and / or typing. Alright, enough feel-good bullshit. I bought Liz and shirt that says "Fuck You, You Fucking Fuck." She said she wanted to wear it to work. I thought that was a good idea.