And they're back.

So my goal for remote blogging via my Blackberry while we were traipsing around New England was a complete bust. Apparently my Blackberry, having been born and raised in Atlanta, is not quite over the War of Northern Aggression and simply refused to work properly while up in those Yankee towns.

But we’re back!

And it was great!

I kind of freaked right when I flew off because Braja of Lost and Found in India decided to give me all sorts of blog love and put me in the Spotlight Diamond Dance. Wait, no that’s for strippers. It was The Diamond Post.

She also posted a whole blogpost declaring that her followers should come follow me because I needed help. Or therapy. Which is awesome. And true although I’m not entirely sure which of my various problems she was planning to fix. But I’m all for it Braja! Post a telethon. I’ll show up in a tuxedo and look needy.

Then the post she had written for the telethon just imploded and disappeared. So maybe she got me confused with another blogger and didn’t mean to link to me and was like oh shoot, that’s not the one I wanted. And then I went and disappeared for a week so she she was probably in India wiping her brow going phew! that Carolyn Online won’t mention that little misunderstanding and then I go and blow it by blathering here. Sorry, Braja. It’s how I roll.

Hi Braja’s people! *Waving* Welcome. Sorry I was such a slacker and was gone for a full week right when you showed up. It wasn’t you. Swear. It was the Southern Belle Blackberry.

Anyway, about our trip. I know you’re all dying to know how the first encounter with Ms. Picket went. It wasn’t just one blogger meeting another In Real Life for the first time. I mean we email each other every day. We talk constantly. Although never on the phone. She is one of my best friends. But I didn’t actually know what she looked like.

So was I nervous? Would it be weird?

No. And no.

Excited, not nervous. And it was weird how very not-weird it was. I’ll be posting all about it in a few days. I’m still in the holy-shit-where’s-my-toothbrush mode of the post-trip reentry.

It’s funny because all of my friends were asking me if I thought Ms. Picket was actually a 13 year old boy – or maybe a 65 year old man – pretending to be a grown woman/mom. And her friends were asking her if maybe this is a big scam I pull. You know, pretend to be a normal blogger and then invite myself to her house and just stay. And dispose of the bodies at my leisure.

These silly people. I mean I know Darcy (that would be Ms. Picket’s real name – I’m blowing it all wide open here folks) doesn’t post pictures of herself so you can’t really know what she even looks like. And I guess if you’re of the paranoid mind that people are lying online all the time then you could suppose all kinds of things.

But at the end of the day the reality is that Darcy and I already knew each other really well even if we didn’t really know what the other one looked like. So young, old, male, female… when you know a person’s soul the looks don’t matter.

So without further ado – here’s a snapshot of Ms. Picket when we were out on her boat.

She was awesome. And you can call her Cappy.