The Ankle Biter @ Quibbling.net

Five days into this crazy thing they call “engagement…”

- It no longer feels weird to have this ring on my hand, although I still find myself distracted by how much it sparkles. I’m like a toddler… “Ooh, shiny!” My coworkers refer to it as “The Bling,” and insist that I show my Bling every time someone congratulates me.

- I am completely relaxed about the impending lifetime commitment I am making. Not worried at all. After all, three and a half years into our relationship, Tom and I are best friends, a great team, and still deeply in love. There’s really only one person in my life who isn’t convinced that this is a perfect match, and I’m giving him some time to come around before I throw down about it… Nope, not worried about the commitment. What’s going to stress me out is planning this damn party… “Yay! We’re engaged! Time to do some long-term project management!” WTF is up with that?

- I have admonished my coworkers to kick me in the butt if I become That Girl who can’t talk about anything but wedding planning. They have agreed to do so, but also assured me (at least the female ones did) that they’re actually interested in it. Which is nice, but then Lisa decided to tease me about it today, and we had to have a quick chat about how that is the one thing that it is NOT okay to joke about, because I’m just a little too paranoid about it.

- The Knot is a cesspool. I will never go there again.

- For that matter, just about any result in any Google search that involves the word “wedding” is horrifying. I hate how vendors totally manipulate brides into conspicuous consumption, but I also hate how adult women make it lucrative for them to do so.

- And while I’m not tripping over the word “fiancé” anymore, I still have the three-and-a-half years of referring to Tom as my boyfriend to get past. It’s a very entrenched habit, and one of my coworkers caught me the other day. It’s part of my vocabulary that I’ve only ever applied to other people, so it’s weird to use it to refer to my own relationship. For that matter, I said to Tom the other that that the honeymoon is going to be more fun to plan, and the word felt very strange to me… like, only other people get “honeyoons.” We just get “vacations.”

Tom has just told our proposal story, but I thought I’d add a few narrative details.

He had to convince me that it was a good idea to go down to the light house. I had reminded him of our trip up to the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, and he countered that THAT trip had been worth it, and he was sure this one would be too.

Not wanting to wuss out on our afternoon’s adventure, I agreed. Halfway down the steps, he said, “This isn’t so bad, is it?” “Talk to me on the way back up, babe.”

So we get to the bottom, and the view was truly gorgeous. The Pacific Ocean is so blue, and there was a light mist hanging just below the clouds on the horizon. There was a guy standing on the lighthouse balcony with a hose watering… I don’t know, the lichens on the rocks? So we had to move off to the side so we wouldn’t get watered too. I was taking some photos when Tom said, “So there’s a reason I brought you down here.”

There was a little stumbling over words (both of us) and fumbling with a box (him), and some putting on the ring VERY CAREFULLY so as not to lose it in the ocean (me) and somewhere in the middle of it he said, “Will you marry me?” and I said, “Of course I will!” and suddenly we were hugging and kissing and we couldn’t stop laughing.

“I love you!”

“I love you too!”

If the people around us weren’t paying attention they must have thought we were crazy. And we are, I guess.

We climbed the steps up gradually, stopping periodically on strategically placed benches to let our legs rest. We’d look at each other and start giggling again- can you believe what we just did?

Finally we reached the top and decided to stop at the information center for some postcards. I picked up a few with photos of the Point and the lighthouse, just so I can point to them and say, “We were RIGHT HERE when he asked!” We told the ranger in the station what the postcards were for, and he thought it was a nice idea then he stopped and said, “Wait, was this TODAY?!” Well, yes, just now actually. I think we made his day.

We left the information center with the ranger’s enthusiastic congratulations and headed back to the car to go get lunch. The rest of the afternoon was consumed with scenery, phone calls to tell our families so they wouldn’t hear about it on the internet, and me figuring out just how many people knew about this before I did.

So, things I have to get used to:

- Being the fiancée instead of the girlfriend
- Calling him the fiancé instead of the boyfriend
- The “showing the ring” gesture
- People actually being interested in my jewelry
- Hey! There’s a sparkly thing on my left hand! *magpie stare*
- OMG, you mean I actually have to plan a wedding? For REAL?! *panic!*
- Bringing my lunch to work every day to save money so I can pay for the thing

An Announcement

Originally uploaded by tjbax.

I understand that many of you knew about this before I did… Well, here’s the ring, actually on my finger.

Many thanks to the committee who provided input to my stressed-out sweetie.

Tiff and Pud

Originally uploaded by tbridge.

Many thanks to my sweetie for refusing to let me chicken out on this photo.

See, walking around Webzine, I had my usual sense of personal superiority squarely in place. Blah blah blah, people with websites trying to kick The Man’s ass, when really I know that it’s better to be The Man than to try to bring him down.

But see, Pud was making shitloads of money on the Internet while everyone else was taking. Hell, he was making money BECAUSE everyone else was tanking. Much respect. Awe, even. Pud is the dotcom deity. Pud is also the guy that can stand up in front of a roomful of whiny, anti-profit, anarcho-socialists and tell them why it’s cool to sell out.

And he did not seem even a little bit annoyed when Tom asked if he could take his picture with me. So yeah, points for Pud.

The annual Blogger Boobiethon supporting the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation is coming up soon.

I do plan to support the Boobiethon, but whether it’s through photo, cash, or both is a question I leave for the reader to ponder.

The point of conferences like these is really less about the panels and more about meeting all those people whose sites you read every day. The panels here on day 1 have been… eehnh, with lackluster presenters, and passive moderation. And for a web conference, the utter lack of available power for laptops and the abysmal wifi situation has made liveblogging and live photo posting impossible.

But enough of my complaining! I’m having lots of fun nonetheless, just hanging out with other geeks and getting to know people face to face that I already know online. A quick roster of people I’ve met/seen whose sites I read regularly (and these are just the people I hadn’t already met):

Jason from Preshrunk. I should have realized who he was when he recognized my Diesel Sweeties pixelated heart tee. He looked tickled when Tom and I both yelled, “YOU’RE the Preshrunk guy! We LOVE your site!” He gave us buttons. Tom bought him a beer.

Merlin from 43 Folders and 5ives. Tom leaned over to me during the DIY Marketing panel and whispered, “The guy on my other side is Merlin Mann!” I didn’t even realize until this morning that he is also the mind behind 5ives, which is one of the sites guaranteed to make me chuckle.

Of course, I met Sean & Jason from Metroblogging, who I deal with regularly but have never met in person.

Jonas Luster, an SF Metroblogger who is also an organizer of the conference.

Stewart and Katerina of Flickr. Imagine my shock when Jason informed me that I had just eaten lunch with the inventors of my very favorite webservice and had not even realized it. Must introduce myself properly today, and beg them to bring back even the flash mockup version of Game Neverending.

And of course, Pud. He walked past me when I wasn’t paying attention and Tom said, “Tiff! It’s Pud!” OMGWTFBBQ!!!1!one!!eleventy-one!!2!@ Again, must introduce self properly, but I nearly had an Ed Sullivan Girl moment. But that would have made me look like a total l4m3r, so I restrained myself.

So it’s a fun time overall. Sean is right, 1″ buttons are the new stickers, which makes me happy. I’m happy to put all kinds of buttons on my person or my bag, but I never know what to do with stickers. I hate the idea of bitching up my car OR my laptop with a sticker. Yay buttons! I now have many pieces of flair on the strap pouch of my DJ bag. But I did accept a very large Obey Giant sticker from Sean that I must find a proper use for. I can’t put it on my laptop without covering up the light-up Apple, and that would make me sad, so maybe I’ll hang it up in my office until I think of something better to use it for.

webzine opening talk

Originally uploaded by seanbonner.

I’m just on the other side of the left edge of this photo, just out of Sean’s phonecam range.

Do not even get me started on the chairs for the panelists. This is the Swedish-American Hall in San Francisco. We’re in the Freya room, with the Valhalla Loft. I kid you not.

Tom and I are hanging out with his parents in California for some R&R time, but we’re spending this weekend in San Francisco for Webzine 2005. Should be a good time, lots of geekery, some internet celebrities (I think I’m about an F-list Internet Celebrity, if that).

The sessions look excellent- I’m really excited about them. The problem, of course, is that there are slots when I’m not really interested in anything that’s going on, and slots when there are multiple sessions I’m interested in.

And then there’s the gratuitously anarchist and stickin’-it-to-the-MAN tone of some of the panels- I just don’t think I can sit in a room with someone from IndyMedia for long without wanting to barf.

But between Pud and the rumored attendance of Stewart Butterfield, I am a drooling fangirl. Remember the teenage girls who were screaming and sobbing the night the Beatles appeared on Ed Sullivan? Like that.

My dorkiness knows no bounds.

It seems that someone thinks its funny to guess/steal/crack Flickr passwords and upload pr0n into unsuspecting people’s Flickrstreams.

Make sure your passwords are hard to guess and not prone to dictionary attacks- use numbers, mixed case, and punctuation.

Wegmans’ Menu magazine is the worst kind of food/home pr0n there is. Worse than Food Network, worse even than Williams-Sonoma, this magazine caters to every dirty, middle-class, giant-kitchen, china-pattern-choosing, mistress-of-the-manor fantasy I have. Oh sure, Food Network shows me how the other half lives, and Williams-Sonoma provides the retail outlet for the accessories of my obsession, but it is Menu that makes it all seem attainable.

“Look!” my tormentor says. “Look how simple it is to throw a fabulous dinner party! Your plates will be color-coordinated with your table linens and you shall have a set appropriate for every season!” It whispers sweet nothings in my ear about slow-cooked beef stew and delicate baby vegetables served on shining, jewel-toned dinnerware and I am powerless in the face of such persuasion.

*sigh* It’s almost enough to make me forget the tiny apartment kitchen and utter lack of dining facilities for more than two people that is the lot of a single twenty-something in DC.

Damn you, Wegmans. Someday the kitchen island and cavernous dining room shall be mine. And then I will throw the fabulous dinner parties, the big family holiday gatherings, the sumptuous brunches that I’ve already planned in my most private of fantasies. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” will be a weekly institution, you’ll see.