The One With All the Internet Lurve November 9, 2007

Hi! I’m La, and I run a little site called The Rad Fanny, and today I’m the final blogger sitting in for the lovely Miss Clink as she rounds out her business trip in Boston.When Clink asked me to guest post for her, my immediate reaction that was of pure terror, because Clink? Has been my number one favorite blogger since she started writing, and the thought of filling in for her is more than mildly intimidating. Not to mention the group of tremendously gifted writers I’d have to follow this week, being in the final slot. But I totally heart her, and I’ve followed her from the very beginning, from her very first post, and I’ve always had a sort of blog crush on her. And while I’m flattered beyond words that she chose me? Yah, I’m still mostly petrified. You can imagine the thoughts that ran through my head; First it was “No way, I can’t do this, nuh uh, it’s Clink, for crying out loud!” and then I thought, “Bring it.” I can totally do this, right?  Right. So here I am. And let me state for the record that I think Clink is so pretty and charming and funny and smart and brilliant and wonderful and makes me smile every single frickin day, and there is no one better to email with all day complaining about how sick we are, and no, there isn’t a contest for the best and most flattering guest blog post, why would you even ask that?

I’ve been trying to decide what to write about all week, because for me? Writing is never really a process. I sit down, I start typing, and I go with whatever comes out. But I wanted to write something special and of substance for my time here, and I guess when I think about Clink and blogging and all you wonderful gals (and guys, sorry) and how it brought us all together? It makes me want to write about blogs and the wonderful friendships they create. That’s right, I’m totally sapping out for the final guest blogger post. Deal. It’s something I’ve written about before on my own blog, many, many times, and it’s something I have a lot of experience with.

Because while we all know about the lovefest between Molly and Clink? I have my very own internet BFF. And she is divine. We began our relationship three years ago, and I have to tell you that I don’t know where I would be without her. In the beginning, it was just comments on each other’s blogs every now and then, and then it quickly blossomed into 8,452 text messages a day, MySpace messages, some questionable cell phone pictures of interesting things and/or body parts followed by “is this normal?”, packages of goodies and birthday presents and wedding presents and house warming presents and little cards just to say hello that we’ve sent to each other (because we know each other’s real, whole names! And addresses! And phone numbers! And life stories!), and emailing and chatting every single day, and she really is probably the closest person in the world to me. And the secrets she knows about me? That no one knows? Not even Andy? Could be very, very incriminating. I’m just saying.

She has seen me through every up and down I’ve had in my life in the past three years, and it’s my hope that I’ve done the same for her. And while we totally have each other’s back and are emotional rocks for each other, we also spend most days talking about poop and how much we want to go home and hate working and would rather be eating on the couch in our pajamas. And today, it was emailing her the first draft of this post saying, “Do you think this is any good?”, which is the seventh grade equivalent of, “Do you think they all will like me? Do you? Do you?” And as always, she knows exactly the right things to say to me. She knows my fears, my dreams, my strengths and my weaknesses, and we always joke about how we would totally get married if we could. And speaking of weddings? She is absolutely coming to mine. Because I couldn’t get married without her there.

It’s all about camaraderie. And it’s all because of this little blogging community we’ve created - one without bias, one with complete abandonment of our guards, one of complete comfort and belonging - that I was able to “meet” her. And able to “meet” all of you. And I love every single one of you. And I think it’s wonderful that blogging has allowed us all to become so close, even if it’s “just” on the screen. Because I think it’s almost better than real life. Because there is no judgment. It’s just unconditional internet love. And I love it. And I love Clink, and I thank her for letting me spend a little time with all of you today.

Ok, so now it’s time for you to come home, Clink. Because we miss you. Kthanksbai.

The Luckiest Guy in the World November 8, 2007

I’m Mike from I Got Nothin. You might know me as the guy who defended M’s right to keep the Patriots garbage can. You certainly know Molly. And you may or may not know me as Molly’s boss. At least for a little while longer.What you probably don’t know me as is Renee’s husband. And, well, hey, anything wedding/engagement related is pretty popular in these parts, so I’ll do my best to keep that going until Clink returns.

So, here is how I became the luckiest guy in the world:

Renee and I knew each other five years before we started going out just prior to our senior year of college. We lived in the same area and met while working the same summer job. I went to school in New York, she in Vermont. We graduated and got jobs in each location. Hello long distance relationship.

I knew Renee was the one before we started going out. I’m not sure why. I just knew. So the engagement was just when, not if. And when became about a year after we graduated college. I had purchased the ring before and had even asked her dad for her hand. I can’t help it. I’m as traditional as they come.

We made plans to be home in Connecticut for a summer pops concert in the local park. That was on Saturday night. On Friday, I had said that I wanted to go to the beach and just hang out. She was fine with that. More importantly, it was no surprise. We loved going to this beach and just walking along, especially at night. That was the best time to go.

So, we meet at my parents’ and head down to the beach - in my Chevy Chevette. I know. I know, but it was four wheels and an engine.

We get to the beach and we are walking along on a gorgeous clear night. Just talking. Holding hands. Feeling good. And, well, a little nervous. We would normally walk to the end of the beach, but knowing what was to come, I sort of stopped us short just to admire the dark ocean.

Then I reached into my pocket, pulled out the ring and completely surprised her with my proposal. After a bunch of hugs and kisses, I was like, “So is that a yes?!” It was.

As we were walking back from the beach, Renee was all excited. She wanted to tell her parents. And she really wanted to talk to her sister, who lived in Florida. By this point, we were coming off the beach and there’s a yacht club nearby. Outside the yacht club was a limo. I was like, let’s go ask the limo driver to use the phone. I’m sure there is one and he wouldn’t care.

Not realizing I just fed her a line, she started toward the white stretch limo. And as she got closer, the driver simply said, Congratulations. Yup, I arranged the limo. I had another couple go to my parents, ride the limo down and then take my car back to my parents’ house.

So inside the limo was champagne, a rose and a card. She was beside herself. We enjoyed champagne while taking a nice ride around the beach area. I can’t wait to tell my parents, she said. Little did she know…that when we arrived back at my parents’ house, her parents were there waiting. I had arranged for them to come over so they could be there, along with my parents, and we could all celebrate the engagement together.

We’ve been married 13 years. Pretty cool, eh? That’s how I became the luckiest guy in the world. And still am.

A few things. November 7, 2007

1. My guest posters rock. Seriously. As in, maybe I should just let them take over? I could be like their pimp. Or something.

2. You probably should really just ignore me right now because I’m not exactly coherent. I always used to think that people who traveled for business were lucky, like it was one big hotel hopping party. I was wrong. I know that now. The days are long and it feels like there’s no reprieve - I am actually working longer, harder hours and, um, I never thought I’d say this but I MISS THE DAMN OFFICE.

3. Also, I miss my bed. And M. And M in my bed. I actually had a dream about sex last night. Apparently my subconscious is pretty pissed about the lack of any action lately.

4. Boston is so cute. I rarely leave the hotel but when I do, I marvel at just how damn adorable it is. I must sound like a condescending New Yorker with all the “aww”s but it’s genuine. Hi Boston, I have a crush on you. Do you like me back? Check yes or no. From, Clink.

5. Boston is fucking cold, though.

6. I think I’m pregnant. No, seriously. My assistant actually bought me a pregnancy test (mainly so I would shut up about complaining that I’m pregnant and just find out, once and for all). I’m just. so. nauseous. I’m not a nauseous person, normally. It takes a lot to make me nauseous. I think it is a baby that is making me nauseous.

7. The silver lining is that I’m totally using it as an excuse to eat whatever I want. “For two!”

8. Omigod, you guys! I was awesome on the flight. I can’t even begin to tell you. I feel like I’ve really made progress! I didn’t cry during take off and I only grabbed my assistant’s hand once and I WAS NOT EVEN MEDICATED. Or drunk.

9. Except, um, at the airport I bought this book called “Ask the Pilot” because on the cover the New York Times said that people with a fear of flying should read it and I was all “that’s me!” Except I started reading it before going to bed to calm me down and found that an entire fucking chapter of the book is devoted to the top ten worst air disasters in history. Thanks, asshole pilot author. I’m going to be a basket case on the flight home.
10. I feel so fucking out of it. I miss your blogs! I feel like I don’t know what’s going on in your lives and I hate it. I can’t wait to catch up over the weekend. Hopefully my Google Reader won’t explode by then. Don’t do anything fun without me, okay?

11. My assistant asked me if I have a blog. I repeat: MY ASSISTANT ASKED ME IF I HAVE A BLOG. I’m not sure if it’s because she saw something on my computer screen or if she was just asking in general the way people sometimes do. I said “what’s a blog?” Good cover Clink. GOOD COVER.

Tired Clink out.

xo.

All In the (Blogging) Family November 7, 2007

April 12, 2007
Hi Clink,
Just thought I’d drop you a line, being that you are the inspiration for my blogging and I linked you on my page. (You know, nothing like just throwing it out there in the VERY FIRST LINE OF CORRESPONDENCE, because that’s not creepy at ALL. Oh no. And that shrine I have to you? Yeah, nevermind that. It’s nothing. Really.) Thought I’d just “introduce” myself  ( No shit, sherlock.) Truth be told, it was reading “Such Great Heights” that made me think about writing a blog of my own. I know that I’m no where near being a great writer (uh, hi Barbie if you were, then you would PROBABLY realize that “nowhere” is in fact, one word. Way to go. Barbie the Journalist.), but I just wanted to say thank you for the inspiration, and if you get a chance, I’d love for you to have a read. (Because really, you’re like a blogging celebrity to me, and hi, I sound oh so desperate here that hopefully you’ll take pity, and pick me! choose me! love me!!! ….Okaaaaay Meredith….) Maybe you’ll like it enough to include in your blogroll. Maybe not, and thats ok too. (Not really. If you hate it, you’re totally going to crush my blogging dreams and I am going to wither and die and give up all hope of becoming a writer. Because YOU didn’t like my writing. Take that, inspiration! How’s that for guilt?! Huh?! Huh?!!!!)
Best of luck to you figuring out the freelancing situation, and don’t worry about the cookies- they’ll mean a lot to M. And really, thats all that matters. (Of course I’m going to reference today’s post, because YOU ARE MY INSPIRATION DAMMIT!!! IT’S NOT LIKE I HAVEN’T MADE THAT CLEAR ALREADY, NO?!!!! So please write me back!!!! I’m so your biggggest fannnnn!!!!)

Always,
bloggingbarbie
www.wordpress.bloggingbarbie.com
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Hi Barbie,
Thank you so much for taking the time to introduce yourself. It pretty much made my (very rainy, very cold, very un-spring-like) day to hear that I inspired someone to start blogging. You may not be thanking me so much when you post something and the Internet Trolls come out of the woodwork to bash you (I’ve been there many times), but for now let’s just bask in the glow of your new blog, shall we? Your blog which, by the way, I’ve added to my blogroll.
Again, thanks for reading and taking the time to email. I look forward to reading more of your blog!
-Clink
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Yes, that was our first “interaction.”
Looking back, it’s a miracle she responded as kindly as she did. But you know what? That’s just her. And yeah, she’s pretty great like that. I realize that now you’ve read my internal rantings of what a *cough* toolshed *cough* I was when I first reached out to her, I probably should back up a bit, and introduce myself to y’all.
Hi, I’m Blogging Barbie. If you already know me, I’m totally driving you around in my bloggingworld pink Audi with diamond encrusted headlights. And if you aren’t already readers (which hello, you should be, because Clink picked me! Chose me! Loved me! to write a guest post and I swear I’m not a toolshed anymore), you really should be, and just totally read already. But I digress. Where was I. Oh, that’s right. Clinky. Teehee.
So, aside from sending her a frighteningly creepy email (now that I re-read it months later), it still amazes me that she responded. Now that I “know” her even better, I can truly say that she is everything as a person I thought she’d be, way back when I was first introduced to the word of “personal blogging.” You see, I view Clink in the way I’m sure a lot of you do. She’s my blogging big sister. Sure, Miss Molls and her share those internet BFF necklaces, and I got to know Miss Molls and her blog through Clink. (And yes, I felt super cool then when Miss Molls blogrolled me, because dude, I was recognized by my big sister’s cool friend, thanks for asking, But Molly? Clink? I’m so not over the fact that you couldn’t like, spring for the triple BFF necklace, because I AM HER LITTLE SISTER DON’T YOU KNOW AND I NEED TO BE INCLUDED IN EVERYTHING. Ahem.)  But Clink? She was the first to share with me relationship advice. Fashion advice. Career advice. Blogging advice. She’s been everything you could hope for in a blogging big sister. And for that, I’m thankful.
The blogging world can be a scary place, with us all, nonchalantly throwing our feelings out there and posting on the INTRANET things such as: “OMFG we totally drunkenly stole a sign last night,” or “I’m sorry, I know this is gross, but I’m having serious stomach issues with x,y and z symptoms…” Or, my personal favorite: “WTF? Why is my significant other being such an ass?! God. Why why doesn’t he KNOW and UNDERSTAND why I will break out into tears for no apparent reason, at all?! “

We rehash all the gory details (and TMI) that at times, our real life friends don’t even know.

So yeah, blogging can be scary. The potential judgment, internet trolls, and simply opening up and putting such intensely personal thoughts on paper (ok, HTML, or whatever, not Computer Genius Barbie here, folks) for anyone who may stumble upon your site to read. Perhaps that’s why we seek comfort where we can in our anonymity…but are too passionate about writing and communicating with others to cloak ourselves completely.

Clink has brought us the “Would! You! Be! Mad!” game. She’s also given name to what so many of us reference as “the crazy.” She’s also recently gone back to incorporating her old ranting posts that are so shockingly sincere and full of emotion, we’re right there with her. Only this time around, it’s a wiser Clink. One that has matured with time and growth of her career, relationship with M, personal blogging and her friendships. She’s still the same old Clink, but wiser. Funnier. And if it’s possible, even more heartfelt. She’s everything a big sister should be; not afraid to check in when she feels as if something is “not right,” will eagerly discuss relationship issues and be there to give you the career advice you need as well as genuine reassurance that things will work out. She’s been through it, and it has made her all the wiser, all the better, woman she is today. And yes, lessons learned from watching the “Rock of Love” are totally included in that statement. It’s all about balance, Internets.

So hurry back, Clinky. I miss my blogging big sister.

Actually, I think I can speak for the entire blogging community when I say, we all miss you.

(And I’m sure your readers are sick of hearing rantings from your annoying little sibling. I mean, gosh. Who does she think she is? Pssshhhawwwww.)

Of hurricanes, cup cakes… and love. November 6, 2007

Hiya, Clinkers and Clinkees.

I’m Peter.

When our delightful hostess first asked me to guest post, I replied, “I’ll do it for… FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS.”

She said, “No.”

I said, “I’ll do it for… TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS.”

She said, “No.”

I said, “I’ll do it for… THE GLORY AND HONOUR.”

She said, “Are you still talking?”

Long story short (fat chance of that with me) here I am. Finally. Every time I sat down to write this during the past three days, the power has gone out. For nine hours on Sunday!! Thank you, Hurricane Noel. Jerk. (And what kind of name is that? Isn’t Noel the name of the pussyish dude that kept losing out to Ben in trying to capture Felicity’s heart?)

And let me tell you that nine hours is a long assed time for me to sit in silence, alone with my own thoughts. Some of you have read them!

When the lights eventually came on, and I started thinking about what I could write here, I realized that this audience was made up almost entirely of wonderful (and in some cases, single) women. So, hiiiiiiii there. You are all looking lovely today.

Especially YOU. Come chat after this post?

Where was I?

Oh yes, I was feeling like I’d be the least unappealing male guard at a women’s prison.

Or more fittingly, and less insultingly, the bartender at a giant bachelorette party?

Now, if you’ve read my blog before… Thanks! You seem very smart. And if you haven’t… You disgust me.

On my blog, you never know what you are going to get. Depending on my mood, you could find pop culture references from 1995, sissified poetry, short fiction involving Muppet spousal abuse or sex with The Golden Girls, or thousands of words of me gushing about my ADORABLE niece.

It’s a crapshoot, people.

But, considering the audience here, I figured that I should show more of my soft side. Try to make a connection with you all. Share a bit of myself.

And then I thought…

Naaaaaaaaaw.

That would make too much sense.

I decided to let my freak flag fly.

BUT, then I realized that this is Clink’s blog, not mine. I should really try to fit in with the theme. Instead of the flag flying, I’ll just wear my freak t-shirt. With a long sleeve T underneath and jeans. (See? Clink writes about fashion… stuff.)

I’ve decided to write about weddings.

More specifically, I’ve decided to write about what a wedding would be like if I planned it.

First things first… my groomsmen. And quite a rogue’s gallery this will be:

- Dude #1 has a bit of a history of urinating whenever and wherever the mood strikes. Drop-off slot in a video store door. Middle of the street in front of a cop. Etc.

- Dude #2 will show up 15 minutes late, then hang out in the staging area shirtless, with his pants open, slippers on and strumming a guitar until the mood strikes to get ready.

- Dude #3 will swear constantly in two languages and drink vodka out of something the size of a bucket.

- Dude #4, at some point during the weekend, will strip naked, tuck “himself” between his legs and rock his best “Buffalo Bill” from SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. It… It is going to happen.

During the reception, we are going to have a street hockey game in the parking lot. Don’t worry though, it won’t be shirts vs. skins. I am going to have jerseys made with “Groom’s Side” and “Bride’s Side.” Class, right? Though since we are mixing Canadians with booze and hockey, there will be some brawling. Blood will wipe right off a bride’s dress, eh?

The cake… Gotta be made up of cupcakes. They are like LITTLE TINY CAKES. Come on! Deal breaker!!!

I assume we’ll write our own vows. I hope that chica isn’t put off by me referring to her as a “stand-up broad.” Or “chica,” for that matter.

As for the music, I feel like I can compromise here. A DJ and a band…

As long as it is a Poison tribute band. Preferably called “Arsenic.” Though I can be a little flexible. I just want to hear some “Every Rose Has Its Thorn.”

However, if I hear a single note of “Mony Mony,” somebody is getting cut.

I also want to hear both Jack Wagner’s “All I Need” and Michael Damian’s “Rock On.” As well as any other song released by a 1980s soap opera star. Deal breaker!!! (And I’ll yell “Deal breaker!!” repeatedly apparently.)

And I am probably going to have to marry a woman with blue or green eyes so that I lessen the risk of hearing “Brown Eyed Girl.”

We’ll be registered at KFC. What can I say? I loves me some popcorn chicken.

The honeymoon will, of course, be spent at the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, Mass.

As for the wedding night, well, “bondage” has so many undeserved negative connotations…

I genuinely hope that this story — lousy with inaccuracies though it may be — doesn’t keep me from having a wedding some day. Though I’d be okay with it getting me out of ever having to give input on the planning of one.

What’s that?

Oh, fiiiiiiiiiiiiine. Yes, that WAS all a bunch of big talk. I’d probably be all sorts of excited to help plan a real wedding. Shhhhhhhh. Can’t even let me act all manly for a minute?

Thanks for letting me come here to play with you all today.

We miss you, Clink!

Rock on.

One step above the tacky BF necklaces… November 5, 2007

As you know, Clink is away on business and has left her blog in the capable hands of some of her blog friends. All of us were honored when she asked us, but I consider myself the most honored since not only did she ask me to write, she gave me the “keys” to her blog. Let this be a warning to all you future guest bloggers. I can control what you say! Mwahaha.

Alright, enough creepy blogger. As most of you know, I’m Molly from These Little Moments. Clink and I started reading each other’s blogs last year, and before we knew it we became full on Internet Best Friends Forever. Or IBFF as we like to call it. If I was into girls, I would totally want to date her. Clink and I have more in common than many people I know in real life. We email all day, every day. Usually starting with a complaint that it’s not Friday yet and venturing off into everything from relationships, to TV to blogging to food. We talk about food a lot, often planning which restaurants we’re going to visit when we finally meet.

Oh yeah, that. We haven’t actually met yet. We’ve talked about meeting in excess, but up until now our schedules just haven’t allowed it. BUT, we’re pushing for early December, so hopefully we’ll be able to give you an OMG I FINALLY MET CLINK/MOLLY!!!! post sometime in the near future.

Her M and my Michael already know about us. Both of them thought it was a little weird that we met each other online, but as time as gone on I think they’re pretty used to it. Especially after she and I spent our entire Vegas vacations texting each other.

But while our men know about us, our friends really don’t. Some of mine do since I don’t write anonymously, but NONE of hers. This came up as we were discussing her bachelorette party. If I go, how would she explain who I was? Women would see right through the “we met on The Knot!” bullshit.

We obviously can’t tell the truth. If we spill who I really am, she’ll lose her cover all together and that would mean the end of Clink as we know her. Of course that’s the last thing we want to happen.

So, I’m leaving it up to you guys. Come up with our story. How did we meet? How did we become so close? Clink and I will judge the best story and if plausible, we’ll actually use it on her friends. And maybe you’ll get a prize. I don’t know what yet, but perhaps it will be in the form of homemade cookies. Because Clink makes really good cookies. (Like how I just volunteered her to bake? As her IBFF I have that power.)

Can’t wait to see what you come up with!

Leaving on a jet plane. November 1, 2007

A jet plane that will probably crash.

Seriously, why do I have to fly to Boston? I could walk to Boston if given enough time.

Barring that, I would much rather take the Acela Express. But, according to my boss, this “flying” thing is a much more efficient way of traveling and GOOD LORD I AM GOING TO DIE IT HAS BEEN NICE KNOWING YOU ALL THANKS FOR BEING AWESOME.

Alternate reason I might die: those hangover symptoms that I was bitching about on Wednesday? Well, it turns out that they were actually flu symptoms: fever, sore throat, achy body, runny nose, WANTING TO JUST DIE. Sucks. Am so sick. In fact, I come to you right now from my BED where I have been since 6pm and despite having taken NyQuil, I am still not asleep yet and I am not happy about that. Fuck you evil thing that is doing this to my body just in time for the weekend. Fuck you.

Anyway. I’m gone all of next week. Like seriously out of commission (or dead). “Business trip” during which: a) I will probably find out more about my assistant than I ever wanted to know, b) I won’t be able to sleep because M’s not going to be next to me and c) I will try my best to act like a responsible adult because omigod, I am the boss in the situation. Scary.

I’m going to try to pop in every once in a while but that will probably only be to whine. And as interesting as I find my whining, I’m fairly certain y’all would like something of substance to read while I’m away so guess what! There will be guest posters! For the first time EVER on Such Great Heights. (*Wipes tear, thinks about how her little blog is all growed up.)

The guest posters have been hand-picked by me because, well, because I like them. Very scientific, I know.

Anyway - enjoy them! Because if I die in a fiery plane crash over Connecticut (I’m bad with geography, Connecticut is between New York and Boston, right?), I’m counting on them to keep this thing going.

No pressure, guys.