The World As Mare Sees It...
JournalCon 3: Featuring Shiner Bock 2003-10-23










I have an earworm in my head right now. You know when you get a song stuck in your head? Yeah, earworm. Anyway, it's not a song or silly melody or anything like that. It's actually beer.

Now, I'm not a beer drinker, but one of the first things I heard Tim say this weekend was, "Have y'all tried Shiner Bock yet? Cuz it's Texan, and y'all just must get yourself one."

Shiner. Bock.

ShinerBock. Shiner Bock. I never did drink the thing, of course, but I've been repeating it to myself since then, because it's got such a pleasing sound to it. You know how brass curtain rings make a lovely clatter when you draw the drapes? And you know the little lululeelu that used to play before the first song on the tape, back in the days of cassette tapes? And the word, "cobbler" and "cobblestone" and any word that ends with 'ism' or 'asm'? All lovely and wonderful tones and sounds and pleasurable mixtures of vowels and consonants. And now I've got a new one. Shiner Bock. Go on. Say it with me. I know you want to. Shiner Bock Shiner Bock Shiner Bock.
Yeah, that was good. I could totally light a cigarette right now.

* * *

God, so much to say. So many random great moments. Like... like... oh oh oh! Here's one! On Saturday night/Sunday morning, after last call at the karaoke place, Chauffi and Tim and I found it absolutely necessary to our very beings to be able to shake our bottoms just a little bit. So after stopping for pizza (for Tim) and bratwurst (for Chauffi) and minor pauses for shoe adjustments (for me), we ended up at Boyz Cellar, where they played the most awesome dance version of Eleanor Rigby (Yes! I know! Weird, but so cool!) And then, while Chauffi was busy making a spectacle of himself on a speaker, Tim let me wear his black leather just-like-the-guy-on-The-O.C. wrist band, which made me feel all cool and hip, even though it clashed with my girly-girly pink outfit, but oh who cares, because it's all just so much fun!

And... and... There was this one time (at band camp) just as dinner plans and such were being made, and I realised that I hadn't seen Jen since the last panel, and I was kind of worried, because I knew she was feeling slightly less than stellar. So I went to one of the courtesy phones in the hotel lobby, and called up to her room. Right next to me stood Miss Party in a Box on one of the other phones. We both hung up at the same time after receiving no answer, looked at each other pretty much said in synch, "So, do you know where Jen is? Because I just called up to her room and... " And then we laughed, and at the sound of the ding, turned to the elevator from where Jen and She of the Sparkly Eyes came strolling out. And it was just so... I don't know... kismet? Pshaw. It was just cool, and it marked the start of a fabulous night.

Every moment of that weekend marked the start of a fabulous hour, poppets. How often does that happen? Hmm?

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