Cheers, kittens! Miss Hannah Hart here. Rested and refreshed after one pip of a week at San Diego Comic-Con 2015 (SDCC) with my cohort Dr. Lucy and her trusty, steampunk-driven Canon EOS. Now, a little bluebird at SyFy told me Comic-Con "was a lot less packed and crazy this year". From my end, as a Con floor-worm, I say, "Nay! It was a lot more packed and crazy this year!" Fret not though, dear reader! Dr. Lucy and I endured it all, just for you, and this year, sharpened our focus on what matters most: the artist.

If you've been suffering through San Diego's muggy, monsoonal vestiges this past week (Gracias, Hurricane Carlos), have patience; the discomfort is nearing its end. Although, today doled out some Virginia-style, late-afternoon, wicked summer thunderstorms. Of course, it's actually been better along the water, kids: currently 79 at Lindbergh Field with 73% humidity.

The streets were eerily quiet last night. With the exception of oddly quiet construction setups and a formidable sense of a looming pop culture storm, San Diego's Gaslamp District was nearly devoid of any signs of the true onslaught of geekage fast bearing down on America's Finest City. Yours Truly used the time to enjoy the vast amount of personal space and the ability walk about the Gaslamp District with arms akimbo and even engaging in the occasional twirl. (I was wearing a tutuesque skirt, after all.) Still, amidst the serene dusk, one could feel a slight tremble in the Earth, like a TGV heading down tracks on the French countryside, or a tornado steadily rumbling toward a calm, Kansas burg.