If it hadn’t been for my entry into the world of blogs…

...I cannot emphasize this enough:
Much about this day in my life would be different.
Much of my food intake would be different.
Much of my social life would be different.

For one thing, I would not have two blogger dinners in one week (one last night, one ahead).
What does this say about me? That I only eat with people who blog? That I only meet people who blog? That there is a shadowy, sinewy connection between the keyboard and a dinner plate so that blogging, eating and talking all inevitably converge to form a harmonious and agreeable experience?

Did I say harmonious convergence? Consider last night, when Althouse, Brito, Camic and Freese set out to chomp and chat and huddle in a booth at Griglia T. There was a bit of a muddle over the huddle as we had a Freese-near-no-show (only Brito threats of a Freese expulsion from the tight circle of Bascom Bloggers caused him to reconsider and make an appearance, albeit without a repentant attitude) and a delay in the start of the evening (Althouse hair was at issue, as was Camic's declining insider- status at Griglia T., which, together, resulted in almost no food for Freese who was in a hurry to leave -- he had a singing engagement elsewhere, and almost no booth for all of us).

And how amicable was the evening anyway? I would say that all generously partook of punching at each other over pasta. Such phrases as “Stop saying that!” “Shut up!” and “Don’t you know how to tell time?” were bandied about with abandon.

What do bloggers talk about? Well, I have the reputation of introducing steamy elements into any conversation, but I think it’s safe to say that the three donnas were well behaved until Freese left at which time we did, momentarily, focus our attention on the waiter. It was hot in the booth, wasn’t it, Brito?

As to the blogger dinner later this week? I’m aiming for tame. Really truly. Though I may be out of practice.