Home early from work because I did everything on my list really fast. Probably a dumb idea, since I'm paid by the hour. I'd make a horrible union worker. Sigh. Oh well. At least I finally have time to talk about the So Cal Journalers' X-mas party. Now all I need is for my stupid ISP to come back to life so I can actually upload something. And read what everyone wrote about me. 

***

Okay...the big news. I have met Kymm. I met The Mighty Kymm in person, and talked to her and everything. You know what this means, don't you? I am now officially One Degree From Kymm! Yes, you may kiss my shoelaces. Take care not to tangle them, won't you?

Now, for those of you who do not read any other online journals, you're wondering "Kymm who? What the heck?" Well, Kymm is...well...she's...Kymm. That's the best that can really be said. She is the Queen Mother of journaling, and the official last word on everything journal-related. She's about the closest thing to a goddess that there is, if you write a journal.

People on journal-l (the more sophisticated and mature of the two most popular journal e-lists) are always trying to figure out how many degrees they are from Kymm. So they've met someone that's met someone that's met Kymm. They're four degrees from Kymm. So now I am a member of the coveted first-degree elite. I could not feel more special.

***

And now for my impressions of everyone there. Of course, I already knew Nancy, who talked publishing and writing with Bill and chatted about antiques and new names (mine) and stuff with me. She complimented my writing more than once, which made me feel immeasurably proud. I am always pleased to hear that some neutral third party likes my little babblings. Compliments from Dad are good...but he's biased to a fault, so his opinions simply cannot be given full credence.

Nancy seems to like Bill, which is cute to watch because she and all the other ladies complement how competent and responsible he is, and there is no better stroke for Bill's ego than hearing how responsible he is. He kept track of the wine for Nancy, and they joked back and forth about whether or not CDs would ever come into style (Nancy is a vinyl album purist...not a disk on the premises.) Bill thinks she's immeasurably funny with all her CD jokes.

Also being the utilitarian in this relationship, he took it upon himself to talk major publishing with Nancy. We've talked on and off about trying to get me published, but I really don't think now is the time. I can never finish a story because the written-out version never meets the standards of the one in my head, and I get disgusted with it. That, and no one reads real poetry anymore, they just want this angsty, half-baked quasi-prose that masquerades as poetry. Sorry...I rant. But Bill is determined, and he chatted with Nancy for a while about the ins and outs that would be concerned with getting me published and all. I hope he heard something he liked. Now all I need is to actually write something that some idiot somewhere is willing to print.

***

Tamar I had met before, and she was a pleasant as ever. She thanked me for linking to her in my links page (which is still not finished...can you believe how many people are in my favorites folder? Ugh) and mentioned how much she liked my redesign. Everyone agreed that the new title was an improvement, and that it was best to have one that everyone could read and pronounce. 

Tamar asked me what I had meant when I said she had a cool life. Well, Tamar...you're a mom, you have a gorgeous husband, and you're a writer. That's exactly what I want. There could be no more perfect life for me. I am working on the husband thing as we speak...after that, we can see about the mom thing....and the writing thing, well that may take a while, but it may just come around here one of these days.

***

We had a lovely chat with Miriam about her travels to everywhere, and I found yet another piece of jewelry to covet...a bracelet-ring-combo-thingy that strung a net of gold and little red gems all across the back of Miriam's hand. Loverly. Mm. She and I got into a heated discussion about Dave Van, and our similar opinions about him, and all. Very meta. 

She left early because she didn't want to use up her vacation days...she's planning a trip to Mongolia in the new year. When someone noted "Well, okay, go home. We aren't quite as interesting as Mongolia." Kymm exclaimed "Not as interesting as Mongolia?! I'm almost certain I am!" 

***

Which brings us to the star of the gathering. Kymm cusses even more in person than she does in her journal. I am pretty sure that was a conscious effort, because there's no other way anyone (even a New Yorker) could maintain that kind of vocabulary. This woman uses the "F word" in her Christmas cards. It's just a Kymm thing, I guess. 

In her entry about the event, she said I looked about fourteen, and like the least-likely person in the world to be getting married. Thanks very much, Kymm. I love you, too. Fourteen indeed. Ick! I cringe. I was hoping she'd say something about me that I could use in my signature file (like it needs to be longer) so I'll have a Kymm quote about my journal like everyone else. But I'm not quoting something about me looking fourteen. I know of no better way to send people running.

Kymm was also incredibly funny. One of those people that's always there with a witty and/or colorful remark about everything. She's the type of person that can get away with making fun of everyone in the room because it's almost like a special privilege to be made fun of by someone as funny as her. Bill thought she was hysterical, and even delivered a few one-liners that night which kind of cracked Kymm up. On the way home, he grinned proudly "I made Kymm laugh!" *chuckle*

One of these days, I'll write a famous journal like Kymm's (only I've no idea how, since I'm not nearly as funny as her). Then, people on journal-l will try to figure out how many degrees they are from me, and will feel themselves honored to meet me in person. And I will be every bit as cool as Kymm. Only with less cussing. 

***

Dreama was absolutely the most jovial, easy-going, fun person to talk to I've ever met. We talked weddings, traded stories, marriage, kids, writing...and so many little disconnected little tangents it was just unreal. I had a great time getting to know her. I must say, despite what everyone said, I really expected her to be more serious. Her journal is just to down-to-earth, and profound, and everything, I thought she would be kind of like my dad. I never expected such a sparkly personality from her.

To add a bit of intrigue to the evening, we all got to learn Dreama's real name. I am now the keeper of information of such a sacred quality and secret nature that it boggles the mind even to think of it. No, you may not touch my shoelaces again, you'll wear the holiness out too fast. 

Dreama also made comments about my age, but they were a little more favorable than Kymm's. She gushed "I just can't believe it! I mean, you're standing there, and you're so young, and you're so cool! You're just...way too young to be this cool!" That made me feel good. I've never actually said here how old I am, huh? I used to keep it a secret, so people wouldn't leave the minute they found out how young I was. As a rule, the younger the journaler, the more angsty and annoying and basically bad they are. I try as hard as I can to be an exception to that rule. And Lord help me, I'm seventeen. Eighteen in February. Sigh. It's depressing, isn't it?

***

When Rachel walked in, I was kinda hoping she'd turn out to be younger than me so I could stop being called "the Child" by Kymm and Dreama. However, she only looks fourteen, and is actually 22 and graduated from college. So much for that idea. We chatted and chuckled about the advantages of looking younger or older than you are. She and Bill have the same dilemma: getting carded everywhere they go, including R rated movies. I have the opposite: everyone assumes I am older because I go to college and use big words. I've been asked more than once if I am Bill's older sister. Yuck! We are not Alabamans here! Yeesh!

She and Kymm and Dreama exulted together in their unfathomable coolness because they are all members of the Non-Pussies burb, for people who are masochistic enough to hand-code their stuff instead of using page makers. Then she gasped that she couldn't believe all the people on the "Meow!" burb who actually bragged about being such wimps as to use page makers. I interjected "What are you talking about? I'm on that burb!" and started making meowing noises. I think I may have freaked her out a little bit. Oops. 

***

Miss M was there, and when she saw me she grinned broadly. "New hair color for you!" I replied I had noticed, but decided not to comment because it was still in the "Red-ish" ballpark. This girl, instead of chatting with the rest of us journalers, chatted with a very cute young man who was evidently a friend of Nancy's. It seems Nancy is flexing her match-making muscle, and had asked the young fellow in question over just so he could meet Miss M. *chuckle* Miss M didn't seem to be complaining about the arrangement. Both of them exhibited good taste. 

Viv and Amanda were there, also, but I didn't get to talk much to either. Viv I just simply didn't know was there until I was almost ready to leave. But she said I was pretty, so I've decided that I like her. Amanda...well, she got monumentally tipsy, and started talking too loud and flipping people off right and left....so I guess I have something to remember her by in lieu of a conversation. 

***

So that was the party. We had to leave relatively early in order to get home around midnight. I knew work in the morning would not be fun on only six hours of sleep, but it was made worse by having some of the strangest dreams I've had in months (which is saying something) including one about Tamar that I can't remember much about past the fact that she was in it. Weird. Although not unexpected since I've already had dreams about at least a dozen journalers. My mind is so plugged in to this thing.