Last Friday, I flew from Richmond to Boston via Philadelphia
in order to be driven to New Hampshire for North Carolina barbecue. Yes, I went
to the NE Blogmeet!
My Blogfather was kind enough to brave Boston rush hour
traffic in order to pick me up. In the Dodge Earthf***er. The same one that ferried New York Times
best-selling author, Larry Corriea. ( I may have had a slight fangirl moment.) It
had been a long day involving a rather extensive and redundant tour of the
Philly airport, but all’s well that ends well. Dinner at Polcari’s made up for
it, even if I did have a rather shell-shocked look on my face.
[There should be a photo here, but Blogger is not cooperating. Maybe later.]
Contrary to rumor, the look on my face had nothing to do
with JayG’s driving. All four wheels stayed on the road at all times, swearing
was minimal (and deserved) and at no time did I “scream like a little girl*”.
You can read JayG’s write up of the meet here, but I have to
say that first of all, it was really weird to be billed as the “super secret
mystery guest”. And then actually have people seem excited to meet me. I, on
the other hand, tried to keep my cool as I met a whole lot of new people
attached to familiar names. I think the Pig’s Ear Brown Ale helped. And thanks
to Breda’s long-distance fashion help, I cleaned up okay for the event. I had a
marvelous time -- an evening spent with
interesting people and good food (and brown ale!) usually turns out well -- even
if Weer’d did accuse me of having a fake ID. The obligatory throwdown of ECD
knives and flashlights occurred, conversation went on long past when we’d been
kicked out, and I remembered why I live south of the sweet tea line. (I HATE
the cold.)
Next on my list of things to do is update my blogroll with
those I’ve met. Well, that and install my new toilet seat, and pick up my new
acquisition at the Fun Store, and do laundry once the water situation up the
street is resolved and I have water pressure again, and … a bunch of stuff.
* JayG claims that Mike W. does, however.
