Southern charms

After getting not one but two emails from people politely inquiring whether or not I was dead, I figured I'd better get my ass back in gear and start blogging again. Thanks, Pugawug and Tits McGee, for lighting a fire under my tuchas. I needed that. And you are both so sweet!

So, let me tell you about my B-List Blogger trip! I won't be able to do it the justice it was given here, here, here and here, but you'll almost definitely hear more about cranky air travel people, because I'm negative like that.

First off, I can't say enough good things about my fellow B-Listers. After missing a connecting flight from Atlanta to Savannah, Arabella proved to be a delightful travel companion, even in the most awful circumstances (not to mention quite feisty when arguing with Air Tran reps). Air Tran changed the departure time of our flight three times, threatened to change the gate (which boasted the smallest gate waiting area EVAR, so that we had to wait in the gate across the aisle), and finally called for boarding without the benefit of a microphone. When all was said and done, 6 passengers, including us, did not make it on the plane, and there was none of that last minute, "Passenger Mrs. Harridan please report to Gate C16 for boarding." We ended up having to go and grouse to Air Tran (after the initial shock of actually having missed the flight wore off), and they were, shall we say, none too helpful. An hour and several angry powwows later, we successfully hit them up for a voucher for an overnight stay at a down-at-heel airport hotel, which was so nondescript that I can't even remember which chain it was(despite its "charming New Orleans-style courtyard" and yards of plastic houseplants).

Arabella remained a trooper throughout, watching Iron Chef America on TV with me and offering me perfume to combat that not-so-fresh feeling (almost all of our toiletries made it to Savannah without us, annoyingly). She even carried on a friendly conversation with a fellow hotel guest who chatted with us about how she believed that the Holocaust really did happen, no matter what her skinhead ex-boyfriend might think. Additionally, even though (or perhaps because) Arabella and I have met a number of times now, and I consider her my close friend, I feel it necessary to broadcast to the blogosphere what a cool person she is, despite her insistence to the contrary. Believe me, World Wide Internet, she is the bee's knees: a very precise, neat person who didn't think it at all weird that I told her which hook I had hung my towel on, and, in fact, was just as anal retentive as I am about that kind of thing. There was no fighting over who gets the little hotel toiletries, because we both packed enough to keep a set of ground troops clean and smelling delicious. Every time she and I get together, we find that we have more things in common, while being rather empirically different sorts of people. We're a good mix. It's refreshing to find that sort of thing.

Much has been said about Teebs' clear skin and gorgeous curls, and it's all true. She has a very contagious sense of fun and is so seemingly carefree - while I was worried about parading around the hotel in my bathing suit as we prepared to sneak into the hotel pool after-hours, she actually tied a kicky sarong around her waist and slung her bath towel over her shoulders without a second thought. "I figure it's better to ask forgiveness than permission," she said, and I internally vowed to try to adopt that attitude more often.

Wordgirl was the first person I talked to on the phone before we arrived, and it's always a fun game to reconcile a person's voice to her face. She sounded just as she is on her blog: confident, open, and just a little bit sly, like she has a joke that she's going to let you in on once she sees you. I know she was worried about being the "old lady" of the group, but I imagine the others would agree with me that the age difference went completely unnoticed. I have a sister her age, and while I love my sister, Wordgirl is far more interesting (sorry, A, if you ever read this). And where Wordgirl goes, controversial topics of conversation follow. I hadn't realized how much I miss talking about big issues in an informed, intelligent way with informed, intelligent people (and it's partly my own fault for making US Magazine and America's Next Top Model too large a part of my life). Oh, and did I mention she's a totally foxy, tall blonde?

Mignon is the sort of person who makes you feel completely comfortable and as if you've known her for years. She has a fascinating personal history, and she seems like the sort of woman who masters everything she tries to do, whether it's writing or engineering or anything in between. To me, a person who always did well with words but was useless with figures, this constitutes a miracle and makes me unspeakably jealous, but of course Mignon is so sweet, it's impossible to feel really green at her. Another great thing about her is that she's completely unself-conscious, going around singing in her fabulous, gravelly rock chick voice (and doing impressions on request).

When I started blogging, I felt sort of isolated in my personal life - I was at a point where, finally, I had a healthy romantic relationship at the center of my life, but my relationships with female friends were suffering. I have a few close friends, but they're scattered in various cities, and in various stages of life (which can make getting together difficult). Now, thanks to connections made by simple fate, it would seem, I have four women friends to whom I feel closely connected, and whose ideas and stories I can read on an almost daily basis. Thank you, Interweb. I can't wait for next year's B-List get together (and we've already begun planning). Here's to many more!