God, Friday night I think I slept less than I ever did before in my entire life. Except for possibly Thursday night, when I only got three hours of sleep. Or those nights when I had early flights and would just stay up all night. Okay. Let me start again. I didn't sleep that much on Friday night. Not nearly as interesting, but somewhat more truthful.

Anyway, everyone was down in the hotel bar, and I was chatting to Colleen before being overwhelmed by this tremendous need to go up to bed (which is not a comment on Colleen's conversational abilities). Kate was already up there, and basically we were both in bed by 10.30p. We are the fun ones! But hey, it was a whole hour later by our body clocks--really it was 11.30p! Woo-hoo! Hold us back!

Erin and Elizabeth came in at around 11.30p (Texas time), and I wasn't asleep, I don't think, but I was floating. However, for the rest of the night I was awake more than I was asleep, expect that I think that I slept pretty solidly from 4a to 8a.

I don't know why I didn't so much sleep--maybe it's that I rarely am attempting to sleep in a room with three other people, or that my stomach was a little upset from dinner, or that I know that I snore and I was nervous about that (though I got over that fairly quickly, since every time I woke up, one or another of the other girls was ruffling the windows), but whatever it was, sleeping wasn't so much on the agenda.

We had to get up at 8a to get ready for Erin's panel. Erin said that we didn't have to go, but we wanted to support her, so we did.

When I first got up, though, I turned on my cell to see if there was a message, and there was! Unfortunately, I couldn't get to it, since my cell had been turned off and they wanted me to pay the bill. Whoops! This is all because of that $300 bill from a couple of months ago, which they were interested in having me pay. Picky.

So I did pay and it was worth it, since the message was from Omar, who had called me the night before, so I called him back and we had a nice talk as he washed the dishes. I told him about having missed the flight the night before, and he said that if he had been with me, he would have been steaming mad. "But if I missed a flight and you were with me, it would be your fault!"

Anyway, then was Erin's panel, but first, though, I wanted to get to that swag room! Stuff! Prezzies! Cool junk! Want want want need want take have. Lots of people made mix cds, which I'm all for, since I love mix cds, and there were bookmarks and magnets and cookies and stickers and I just backed up the truck and loaded everything into it. Eighteen mix cds. This is what I call a good JournalCon.

After the greed fest, I went to the panel. Which was fine. Erin did a very nice job. In next door's panel, we could hear the shouts of laughter through the walls. Our panel was a little more, well, staid. It sort of reminded me of that scene in Stardust Memories where Woody is on the train of grim and sad and he sees the train of fun and bright and Sharon Stone. Why wasn't I on that train? Did I mention that Erin did a very nice job?

Then we all trundled out for lunch. I wasn't hungry, but I ate anyway. This is the theme for the weekend right there. Listen, every time I turned around there was barbecue and nachos and chili dogs--I am not made of stone!

After that we went to South Congress on the bus (50¢ for the bus! Fifty! Cents!) and shopped at the most spectacular junk shops that you have ever seen. Really, junk shop after junk shop, tchotchke shop after tchotchke shop, all filled with cool stuff that was spectacularly cheap. If I hadn't had to give $300 to AT&T Wireless just a few hours before, I certainly wouldn't have gotten out of there with so little damage.

I only bought a wooden flying pig for Mom, a mermaid dish drainer for Omar, a handful of old pictures that I fell in love with, a milagro cross and a tin Sacred Heart that frankly belongs in the Lancaster house, but I don't want to give it to Omar, I want it for myself.

Then we went back to the hotel to rest up for a bit before Rob's panel, but instead I went back to the swag room to see if there was anything else and ran into Columbine and talked to him for awhile (after terrifying him by launching myself at him like we were playing football), wrangling a promise of seven mix cds out of him (how do you think that I ended up with eighteen?) only getting upstairs a little before we had to go down.

This panel was on the pluses and minuses of journalling online, and there was one girl there, LadeeLeroy, who opened her mouth and everyone just fell in love. She was so smart and funny and cool, I was like, who is she? Then Eliza whispered to me that she thought that she was one of the performers doing parts of their one-woman shows that night, and everyone decided on the spot that we were going.

After that, everyone was going out to dinner, but I was so not hungry from lunch that I thought that I would just meet them at the show, until I realized that I would leave Texas without having any barbecue if I did that, and that was really just not a possibility. So I put on my skirt and my Sexie shirt and I went.

And boy howdy, was I glad I went. We ate well in Austin, the food was really great all the time, but this place, the Roaring Fork, was the best of them all, not the least of which reason was due to the fact that the bar menu entrees were $6 each, and plenty fillin'. Great ribs, if a teeny bit spicy. Also, there was a pumpkin cheesecake with gingersnap crust and cinnamon whipped cream for dessert for which I would cheerfully kill my mother to get another piece.

Then was the show, which was just aces. That LadeeLeroy was first, which was a rather mean trick to play on the rest of the show, since she was amazing, great performer, hilarious writing, the baby guppy story alone was enough for me. I whispered in Elizabeth's ear that I was sorry for the poor fucker who had to follow her.

But the second performer was good too, funny, but in a different way than LadeeLeroy. Her name was Kim, and she rose to the challenge of following such a hit quite nicely, bringing me to tears with her Bluebird story, and wrapping the whole thing up really well with her waitress at Cracker Barrel story.

Last was a video by Omar, (not my Omar, but Terribly-Happy Omar), which should have gone between the two performance pieces, but apparently there was projection issues. It was called Uncle Pepe's Home Video, and was just aces, very silly and smart and funny even if you don't actually speak Spanish. Or Spanglish. I think it's funny that the only two people named Omar that I know are both Spanish.

After all that was karaoke, the JournalCon tradition.

Now, in Chicago I went for a little minute, but hung out by the windows with Molly Zero too far away to actually hear any karaoke and left when Melissa felt that one more second in that smokey bar would have killed her. In San Francisco last year I didn't go at all. So this was my first real time going to karaoke.

I was there for an hour. The door guy thrilled me by asking for my ID, I had a screwdriver (aka a rocks glass of watery orange juice, the bartender didn't so much have what you would call a heavy hand), I watched the karaoke, I sang along, I hung with Weetabix and talked to journallers that I had never met before, it was a fun time. But frankly? One hour of karaoke is enough karaoke.

For the rest of my life.

I don't think that the lack of alcohol was really the problem, since I doubt that it's possible for me to be drunk enough to really dig karaoke, because you know what the problem with karaoke is? The people who sing karaoke. Some were fun, I'd never say a bad word about Anna Beth, since it would seriously be like stomping on a puppy, and she and Emily were cute as hell singing "You're Unbelievable", but even the ones that I liked I didn't really care for. Because karaoke was not made for me.

So I went back to the hotel and watched Halle Berry kind of suck on SNL and part of a Biography on Tracy Gold, and blissed out on a little solitude. It's nice to be alone sometimes, no matter how much I love my friends. I went to sleep at 1a, and was awakened by the others when they got in at 3a, so clearly their tolerance for karaoke far outstripped mine.

Actually, they left much earlier than that, but it took them hours to find anything to eat in this town after midnight. It makes a better story if they were at karaoke until 3a, though, so let's pretend that that's what they did.

Kate hanging out.

Kate still hanging out.

Eliza watching Kate hanging out.

Elizabeth waiting for her Jamba Juice.

Elizabeth and me.

Eliza and Kate, sitting on the shoe shine chair.

The ceiling of the lobby of the hotel.

Amy.

This was the loudest bird in the world.

Eliza, apparently posing for Playboy.

Elizabeth and Melissa.

Kate having lunch.

Kate's tuna.

Mount Salad.

Everybody was drinking raspberry margaritas but me! Buncha alcoholics, all of 'em.

The rest of Kate's lunch.

Kate with a giant knife, the better to eat her chicken fried steak with.

Mo trying to make the M on her shirt and the O around her neck spell "Mo".

This is why it's called Congress Avenue!

Elizabeth and Mo.

Elizabeth and Mo.

Elizabeth and her tongue.

Eliza and Amy.

Melissa.

Elizabeth, Eliza and, for some reason, Kate, under the Elizabeth St. sign.

Texas flags.

Mammys.

A mystery sign on the ceiling.

Ladybug on my face.

Very understated store.

Deaf shoes?

Where Kate and Eliza were sitting, above. They did not, however, get yelled at.

Where we had dinner.

My fries.

My ribs.

Eliza taking a picture of the TV showing the LSU game. Isn't she the cutest little thing you ever did see?

Where we saw LadeeLeroy.

And this is LadeeLeroy! What a co-incidence!

Blurry lobby.

Erin, Kate and Amy.

Kate looking as slutty as she can.

Ian, the day after.

Today's horoscope:
The last thing Virgo wants is to be a source of worry or object of pity. You see your problems as challenges rather than setbacks. Show your strength once or twice to prove that you have some.

One year ago today:
I had made him that Pete Seeger tape, which probably helped, but how this New Jersey Cuban boy naturally has that nasal high lonesome sound, I have no idea.

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Last Updated Sun 19 October 20:32:09 2003