And I know it’s pretty damn funny how simple it can be

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That’s me! And, err…you?, originally uploaded by yaznotjaz.

[Since I seem to be on a roll with posting about blogger meetups and such, here’s another story.]

So, once upon a time (early last summer), I somehow got totally hooked on reading a whole bunch of weblogs written by law students and recent law school graduates studying for the Bar Exam. In retrospect, this is really funny considering the fact that I never was, nor have any inclination towards being, a law student. (My father, by the way, has recently resumed his mission to convince me to apply to law school, but we’ll ignore that for the time being.) Regardless, the weblogs were fascinating – and I think this is the point where all those erstwhile law students stab me for using the word “fascinating” in conjunction with the Bar Exam.

Anyway, last week, I decided to stop being such a lurker and comment in reference to the Muslim parking garage and Mission food places mentioned in a post by maisnon, one of my law stalkees. To keep things even, and in line with my brand-new, shiny-clean Screw the stalking philosophy, I also commented on the Cheese Grater rap-related post by another one of my favorite law stalkees, Chai of the Chat&Chai weblog.

In reply, Chai sent me an email that afternoon that started off with, “Hi Yasmine, I know that you just started commenting, but I’ve been lurking on your site for a few months now.”

I stared at my computer and burst out laughing in amazement. What are the odds? In closing, I was invited to dinner with Chai, maisnon, ads, and brimful. I recognized all the names, since not only had I been reading Chai’s and maisnon’s weblogs, I’d also been stalking the other lovely ladies for a long while now, having originally come across everyone’s weblogs through ANNA‘s, I believe.

I was honored to be invited, and this was too good a meetup opportunity to pass up. So, last Friday evening, off I went to dinner at Lime in San Francisco.

Finding parking was such a process, but I managed it after circling the block several times and finally seeing the side of a building emblazoned with “PARKING FOR LIME LOUNGE & RESTAURANT.” Oh, okay. Well, why didn’t you say so? I parked my car and glanced around.

Ditzy Moment #1: I figured the parking lot must obviously be adjacent to the restaurant, but a few minutes of confusedly walking up and down the street made me realize that I had figured incorrectly. Obviously. So I gingerly crossed the random left-turn lanes and walls and tracks lining Market Street and made my way to the other side.

Checking out the numbers on this side of Market, I realized this was where Lime should be. A few more steps led me to Lime, or, at least, a glass window with the restaurant’s name, and then nothing but a wall. Ditzy Moment #2: I stopped in confusion, not sure where to proceed. The guy standing in front smiled at me. I smiled back, and said sheepishly, “Umm, I’m looking for a way to get in there.” He grinned, stepped aside, pulled on the door handle that had been hidden behind his back, and opened the door with a flourish. The door that looked like a freakin’ WALL. I muttered my thanks and darted inside, where I found Chai and ads already waiting. We were soon joined by maisnon and brimful.

Re. Lime: The food was amazing. We ordered a whole bunch of small plates, and then passed them around, sharing, which definitely gave a dinner a lovely, close-knit feel. The place had LOUD music, colorful lighting, and a bar lined with mini televisions screens. Oh, and mini TVs in the restrooms also – something I kept exclaiming about, because I just couldn’t get over it. Pretty inter’sting.

The waiter asked if we were ready to order. Enter Ditzy Moment #3: When my turn came, I glanced down at the menu, glanced back up at the waiter, and announced, “I’ll have the zucchini, umm, fri-iiii-iii – ?”
“Frites,” said Chai helpfully.
“Yeah, those!”
It was hilarious. And now I know how the word “frites” is pronounced (clue: Not like the word “fries,” apparently). Good lookin’ out, buddy!

Re. Bloggers: The lovely ladies were totally friendly and welcoming. I remember lots of jokes and laughter, which is always a good thing when you’re meeting people for the first time. I initially felt a little bit out-of-place and a lot over-awed, not only because I was surrounded by a corner of Blogistan I would never have imagined I’d even have a chance to meet in person, but also because they’re such smart and successful women that it only reminded me I still need to do something constructive with my life. When Chai turned to me with a wide smile and asked, “So, what’s your story?” the best I could do was sputter in embarrassment, “Umm, I don’t really have any interesting stories.”

Sadly, I didn’t get to join my fellow bloggers on their quest for dessert (I know, it’s INCONCEIVABLE), but it was a beautiful evening spent in the company of inspiring women, nonetheless.

So, the moral of the story – at least, for my future reference – is: Stop being such a stalker. Lurk less, comment more, make your presence known when you appreciate someone’s writing. Who knows, the bloggers whose sites you’re lurking on just might be lurking on yours as well. And then they’ll invite you to dinner! (I’m a big fan of food. And bloggers. And blogger meetups involving food.)

Oh, and I never did get to see Chai reenact her “I HATE THE CHEESE GRATER!” rap in person. Blast!

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