For the past couple of weeks, I've been living out of a suitcase – not that I'm complaining. One of the major perks of my job as a correspondent is getting the chance to travel whether it's trekking 10 hours by plane to Tokyo and check out new video games or two hours by car to San Diego, like I did more recently, to cover the dark side of the biggest and best nerd convention EVER: Comic-Con!

I, like my fellow FEARnet colleagues, have finally recovered from the non-stop press lines, junkets, panels, parties and pure fandemonium that make San Diego Comic-Con. My time bonding with co-workers and Spider – whom I shared a car ride down to SD helmed by a brake-happy driver – renders me sure that there's something about inhaling nerd sweat that messes with your circadian rhythm. There's such a thing as Comic-Con jetlag, right?

This year marks the gathering's 40th birthday, but it's the first time I've gotten my Con on period. I'm happy to say I lost my nerdginity to the thousands of fanboys and fangirls in downtown SD. That sounds weird.

As the years go on, there's been the sentiment that what started out as purely a fan convention for comic book enthusiasts has been overrun by Hollywood and is getting too cool for school. Combined with buzz that the convention could be uprooting to Vegas in the future, it seems like an otherwise peaceful, fun dorkfest will inevitably fall victim to some gawdy-glam abomination.

One can only shudder at the prospect of Vegas spillover: half-drunk frat guys in Jon Gosselin's wardrobe stumbling through Artists' Alley looking at all the cool "cartoons." No, no – we like our hungover attendees in Spandex, clutching shopping bags full of New Moon trading cards and freaking out if Robert Kirkman walks by, thanks.

While I have no previous Cons to compare this year's to, from the looks of it, the nerd force remains strong, formidable. Sure, it was daunting to see A-list celebs like Cameron Diaz, Megan Fox, Robert Downey Jr. and Scarlett Johansson sprinkled throughout the week's festivities. It was also a little incongruous to see that much glam next to so much geek. Indeed, the real stars – and heart – were the fans, congregating from near and far, of all shapes, sizes and clad in varying degrees of stretchy fabric that makes you break out into a rash just by looking at it. 

It doesn't get purer than a grown man wearing what's basically a leotard in honor of his favorite superhero or sweating it out in a Jason hockey mask as his ultimate supervillain. It doesn't get purer than thousands of people getting together to let their enthusiasm sippy cups runneth over without a hitch or hint of drama. Really, think about any summer concert or music festival or other gathering that you've been too where a fight of some sort HASN'T broken out (Lilith Fair doesn't count). 

Eff the recent CONfab (heh) about moving the convention out and away, or whines about it getting too big for its own good; I think it's pretty CON-fabulous as it is.