Bear blog

With the timing of a very well timed thing, Pete arrived home on Tuesday with a Barnesy and announced that we were currying just as I was lifting the greatest pasta bake of all time out from the oven. We discussed many things over dinner. Like dodgy shoulders, the incongruence of Tempei and poi, and Mini dressed in nothing but a big pink bow.


Alan having decided to commute up to site every day, for fear of chavs, Barnesy and I tagged along with him on Wednesday morning and got up there bright and early. I tried to make a point of specifically not paying for WJF but I think the gesture was lost somewhat due to the fact that I think only about three people have bothered with it anyway.


I talked to lots and lots of people and all but one person was friendly and nice and the day drifted by in a sea of smiles and hugs. Two till four I volunteered and stood out in the carpark telling people stuff and watching it go in one ear and out the other. One bloke was terribly affirmitive all the way through my speil, "Yes...yes...right...ok...yes..fine...right..." and just as he picked up the clutch to pull away, turned to me and said "So what am I doing?" Sigh. But I got to wear a high vis vest and listen to the inane conversation going on over the walkie talkies. "There's a willy balloon workshop! Get here now! Over." At any rate I am now officially all badged up and have absolutely no qulams about being a lazy bitch for the rest of the convention. Huzzah!


Alan and I seem to have suddenly got very serious about seven club three count and eight. By the end of the day my lefty passes were actually looking respectable, and eight clubs seems to have knitted together quite well now. Ultimates still eludes me though. It just won't sit right in my head. I think I'm going to have to go back to six clubs and work on being floaty for a bit before it clicks.


Notables of the day included asking directions from a woman in a tabbard and watching her struggle not to say "Ooh, you don't want to start from here." Maddy asked me to marry her. Which was nice. I said yes, obviously. It's not often I get offers that good. We're going to buy matching anoraks. Miark described me to a random as "Clare. You can hug her." I found that Alex is even worse at enjoying conventions than I am. Carvin was so hot it made juggling a redundant activity, but I didn't *hate* it. I got a tan. Peachi has stolen my t-shirt slogan and refuses to pay me royalties. I don't mind so long as everyone remembers where the idea came from. If I ever hear anyone refer to him as the man who's making poo I'll become very high-pitched and indignant. Oh, and the blue club I got off Beard on the basis that there was a design fault with the red ones which meant I kept breaking them? I broke it. Swapped for a nice new one.


Pete turned up at about three and tried to fit his day's sociableness and juggling quota into one afternoon. He didn't do badly. We called it a day quite early though cause I was fair tuckered out. But a good day, certainly. It was nice to smile and hug and wave and chat to so many people. I don't do it very often because people scare me, but there was obviously something in the water.