I often get called bossy, and yet, I think, if I really were bossy, some folks would have a car, others would get off my back about the whole "why aren’t you married yet?" shit, and I would be rolling in the dough.
Still, I’ve decided that part of why I don’t get what I want is that I don’t really articulate it–not to others, and certainly not to myself.
Which is why I feel pretty indebted to Jon Jackson over at Crap & Drivel. Here was a blog so outrageous, so ridiculous, that my fear of meeting strangers was not greater than my curiosity about meeting this man. And he bought me drinks! Since then I’ve met a lot of other bloggers and, even though I get all nervous and weird about it beforehand*, I really like it.
So, here, in no particular order, are the five bloggers I’m dying to meet at the moment**:
1. Peg–She’s been reading here and commenting almost forever. I’m almost certain she was my first reader who I didn’t know. Peg, if you really go to Manchester this summer, you’d better stop by and meet me.
2. Yankee Transplant–She comes across like the biggest hearted-est person in the world and I find her compassion really moving.
3. Lindsey–She’s wicked smart and funny and articulately feminist in a way that just does me in. And, shoot, if I could arrange it just right, I could drive over to Memphis*** and meet her and the Yankee Transplant both at once.
4. Lucky Buzz–I think we’d either hit it off like crazy or immediately hate each other. But I’d like to see.
5. Adam C. Kleinheider–There is no excuse. You’re going to work with Brittney and you’ve met Katherine. I’m not as intimidating as either of them. We can meet like spies. We’ll agree on a place and a window of time. I’ll leave a small chalk x on the side of the building when I get there. You’ll come in and look for the cute, weird girl holding a copy of Leaves of Grass. You carry a blue umbrella. Sit two tables away from me and, when the waiter asks what you’ll be having, say "None of your nonsense, sir!" and get up and leave. That’s all I’m asking for.
*As is my way.
**Not counting Bridgett, since we’ve made tentative plans to meet.
***One one of those days when I have the car, I guess.
I’d put my money on us hitting it off like crazy, but I get that we should leave room for possibilities. Dude, I am SO FLATTERED to be on this list! Let’s make it happen. (Oh, and I love the new pad!)
<i>You’re going to work with Brittney and you’ve met Katherine.</i><p>Coble? I ain’t ever met Coble. I’ve only ever laid eyes on three members of the Nashville Blogosphere — and Kat ain’t one of ’em.
Hells bells, Aunt B, any time you’re out this way, just give me an e-holler and we can make it happen! That, or we can meet up during one of my bi-annual trips to Nashville. Perhaps Fritz can come along and be horrified by all the cooter talk.
Kleinheider, am I to believe that you went to the "Serenity" screening blindfolded? That you did not glance at the folks in line, knowing that you would know who they were without a chance that they would know you? I doubt it. I doubt it very much.Luckybuzz, hurray! Let’s.Lindsey, hurray! I will indeed. I love Memphis.
I first found you when you linked to me and made me manager of the wresting team with my awesome sandals. I’m glad I did!Is Manchester the Bonaroo place? If it is, I think you’ve misunderstood: my son is going to that, not me. But I will get you back to visit your parents, by gum, and them we’ll have a Boss-Off in central Illinois. Because I’m kinda bossy myself. And we’ll do the BossaNova It’ll be SO Boss!
I’m (imagine italics here) intimidating? (quit imagining italics)I think I’m fairly sweet and laidback. And you DID say in an email to me that you saw us at (IIH)Serenity(QII). Please don’t make me comb thru my mail. But, knowning that I ain’t nuthin’ special I can see how you’d like to forget it all. Bah.
Yankee *is* the biggest hearted-est person in the world. I’m not just saying that because I’m related to her. I’m saying it because it’s true.
"Kleinheider, am I to believe that you went to the "Serenity" screening blindfolded? That you did not glance at the folks in line, knowing that you would know who they were without a chance that they would know you? I doubt it. I doubt it very much."Sure, but I don’t see how that’s on me. If folks post their picture on the internet, it is conceivable they will be recognized. I’ve never chosen to do that — until now.I received an offer of a free movie. So, I went. I didn’t want to be seen, so I wasn’t. I don’t see the problem.
"And you DID say in an email to me that you saw us at (IIH)Serenity(QII). Please don’t make me comb thru my mail."I didn’t see an "us" I saw Big Orange Michael because the man stood in the aisle for like ten minutes — wearin’ bright orange. I didn’t really have a choice.
"I didn’t see an "us" I saw Big Orange Michael because the man stood in the aisle for like ten minutes — wearin’ bright orange. I didn’t really have a choice."Ah, well, that WAS true. And you then did inadvertantly see the "us" because he stood in the aisle talking to (as seated) Pink Kitty, Elena, connielane, Me and Tim.But mostly me, because I have a big mouth.
Kleinheider, I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m just saying that my feelings are hurt that you’d go to the trouble of going to a movie just to catch a glimpse of Coble and take a job to get a look at Brittney and yet you won’t even have lunch with me, when I’m much less scary than either of them.That’s all I’m saying.Phantom Scribbler, what the fuck? You’re related to Yankee Transplant? How did I miss this? Peg, for some reason, I thought you were driving him. You should drive him! Leave him in his pile of dirty hippies and spend three days getting drunk with me in Nashville.
Scary is a relative term.
I thought you manly conservatives weren’t afraid of anything, especially not silly girls like me. How could I possibly be "scary"?
Kind of my point, obtuse one.
Tee hee. Oops.
Wow B, your plans for Kleinheider sound like our meeting. Except you were holding a miniature goat and wearing a hard hat.
Yankee is my aunt. Well, she’s my husband’s stepmother’s sister. So, aunt.We’re still working on forgiving her for forsaking Boston and not being here to see my kids grow up!
I’m hurt.O.K., not really. But if i was capable of feeling, I would be hurt.What about our early hints of late night cigars and banter? Wait…perhaps I am too guarded to have proposed that. But, hey… what about late night cigars and banter. Oh. Yeah. And Whiskey.Ryan
Ryan, are you kidding?! I would love that. Of course I want to meet you and smoke cigars and have witty banter.It’s true, I did take you off the list.I took you off the list when I took Rex L. Camino off the list. I don’t mind meeting people when I’m the most uncomfortable one, but both you and Camino seemed like you’d be really unsettled by it, so I gave up the dream.But if you’re up for it? Count me in. That would be good fun.
What! Are YOU kidding? I don’t actually want to meet people. I just want to be on your list!No, of course that should happen. I am notorious for having a screwed schedule so it may be a while before I am able. But let’s "plan to plan on it." I typically tend to the Boy (not a euphemism) all but a couple evenings out of the month. But I would enjoy it.I must say that I think it is hilarious that I’ve given the impression of being easily unsettled and/or uncomfortable. Just not something I’ve heard much. But for me, that is part of the intrigue of this blogging business. The whole perception vesus reality bit.Ryan
Cool. Well, drop me an email at some point and we’ll work on it.