How to Survive Gen Con 50 when you’re not even going (aka FOMO management tips)

So as we all know, Gen Con is on its way, this amazing, humungous, behemoth of a convention, brings with it all of the wonder and magical…ness that a convention can. But what if you are not going? What if you CAN’T go because you, say… live in another country for example, and flights are like, really really expensive, because people voted for your government to leave the EU and now the pound is worth a pittance against the dollar.

Thankfully, I’ve put together this incredible list of things that are absolutely, categorically GOING to help you, and I’m so sure of that I’ll even bet my life savings on it (hint: I have no savings). Its that point where the FOMO (fear of missing out for you non-millennial types) starts to grow and grow until all you see in your sleep, in your dreams and in the faces of the people you have conversations with is the words… ‘go to gen con to absolute idiot, you know you’re missing out.’ I’m not obsessed or bothered by it though, swear down blud… I’m also not one of the ‘croydon massive’ so I’ll put that grammar to bet whilst it’s still early (no offence to croydon, you actually have some quite nice things going for you, I would know, I’ve been on a train through there one time).

Anyway, without me rambling on too much, here is the game plan people…

Step 1: Follow the right twitter accounts

So here’s the second part of the ‘as we all know’ lecture: we all know by now, if you’re any semblance of a part of this community of people we call tabletop, that the only thing dominating the twittersphere (I genuinely hope there is an actual sphere of twitter somewhere because this word is ridiculous), over the weeks leading up to and following a big convention, is hype for that convention. So just join in with it already. There’s no reason to deny yourself the board game braggers, the incessantly and eager convention planners, or just the jealous and angry tweeters (not the speaker type) for want of ‘trying to avoid the hype.’ Just bloody get on a read it, we all know its part of the fun, whether your going along, or sitting at home by yourself crying over that seventh bowl of stale crunchy nut cheerios.

Step 2: Prepare your wallet for the inevitable binge spend

Ohhhhhh boy! Its coming alright, and you better make sure you have some spare credit limit available because that one empty space on your Kalax shelf is about to have the competition of about 25 different new games vying to take that previous space on it. Poor Kalax how will you ever cope! Poor wallet how will you ever cope more like. Less worry about the Kalax shelf please and more worry for your slowly deteriorating credit score against the ever raging torrent of yet more cardboard boxes filled with unusually buxom female miniatures and… orcs, and things. That or just accept the inevitable and wait eagerly for that preorder of Pandemic Legacy season 2 to come through, the simple glee you feel when the postman rings the doorbell is even worth the money at this point.

Step 3: Get some tissues

Here comes the waterworks guys. Nooo… not the Monopoly card! The emotional waterworks, the ones that come out of your face when things happen that you aren’t particularly a fan of. Like when your mother asked you 10 years after you left university; ‘what is it that you do as a job again?’ and you had a little moment to console yourself in the downstairs toilet; ‘Come on, pull yourself together, who cares if your immediate and direct family who you care about very much don’t even remember the simple details of your professional life, get over it!’

Like that but more about missing Gen Con, you know? No, ok fine. Just me then.

(disclaimer: I love my mother very much and she is not a terrible person as may be depicted in any psuedo-vitriolic board game related blog post)

Step 4: Nurse your FOMO by staring blankly into the windswept distance in a stoic fashion

This one’s for the ‘Jon Snow’s’ out there. I know you read this you stoic bastards. Look at how you stand there in that slight breeze, hair jauntily flowing back as you purse your lips and eyes, and overlook the face of an overly melodramatic cliff-face. I know you’re upset and I know this may be the only thing that makes you feel better, just please go and do it somewhere else where the whole world and their friends aren’t watching you every week on a Sunday evening. Nothing brings a family together on TV night like Incest and the fictitious horrific gruesome murder of thousands of people. Treasure that time kids.

It’ll probably make you feel better about not going to Gen Con at least.

Step 5: Convince yourself you’ll definitely go next year. No, definitely.

What’s that? It’s over? Oh no, I didn’t even notice, I’ve not been paying attention see. There was this… thing, and it’s a very important thing and it just took up SO much of my time that I havn’t even had a spare second to stare blankly and the relentless torrent of tweet after tweet after tweet about how good it was. Didn’t see any of that. SO busy me…

I’ll definitely go next year for sure though, like, I’ll set up some sort of saving plan for it and buy a ticket well in advance and everything *you know you won’t do that you idiot what are you saying*. It’s like I say you know, always go to… the next one, if you didn’t make the previous one you were meant to go to. Yep that’s a saying. I’m sticking to it…

Yours jealously,