The idea began as a blog post by Phil last Christmas in which he wrote the story of a fictional party he threw for all his blog friends at a lavish hotel in New York City. This time it was for real. Following his stunning lottery win Phil had quit his job, published his book, and rented out the entire Ritz-Carlton Hotel in New York City. Online he gave the call to any blogger who read his blog. “Come one, come all to the first ever blog party!” His curiosity about what fellow bloggers were like in real life had been the impetus for this party, and he also wanted to thank them for their support and encouragement that had kept him writing.
The hotel was quiet as Phil paced about the ballroom. The band, The B-52’s were busy setting up their equipment behind him. According to the e-mails he had received over a thousand bloggers from all over the world would be attending the party. There would however be one twist: No internet during the party. The bloggers would have to interact as people and not just electronic images. “Ahem…” The doorman clearing his throat shook Phil from his thoughts. “Mr. Factor, the first guests appear to be arriving. A limosine has pulled up in front of the hotel.”
The Blog Party will be real but virtual. I envision a collaborative story created by all the bloggers who want to join. If you’re the first commenter and want to come to the party, just e-mail me an installment of the story that follows this one. Make sure to include yourself as the first character in your installment so everyone reading will know who wrote it. After that you can all go to the blog party, read and e-mail installments that I will add as they go along. This could be fun that lasts on long time with each of us playing off of each other and our personalities, or this could bomb. Let’s have fun and try to make it work.
Crap. I’m the first to arrive. I was always trying to be fashionably late, but the anal-retentive part of me never lets that happen. I can’t be late. To anything. So there I stood, the first to arrive. Hey, that must be Phil. How could he mandate that there be no internet at this thing? I’m having an aneurysm at the thought of actually speaking to the people who will be here tonight. I mean, blogging is easy. Write, revise, erase, write, get frustrated and publish, edit, edit, edit. Real-time human interaction is different. Open mouth, insert foot.The place looks great. And there appears to be a very large bar. Hey, is that a shrimp ring?
Whoops, the doorman forgot to announce “It’s her royal sassitude, WanderingGirl!”
So let me get this straight. You win the lottery, throw this fabulous party, and I have to listen to the B52’s? Why didn’t you book the Stones?? I didn’t dress up like this to dance to Love Shack, baybee.
Arriving dressed in a kilt and a full Prince Charlie evening outfit, I felt a tad over-dressed for Phil’s soiree.There were two other strange people from the internet already there, both dressed in cocktail dresses. Of course, our gracious host Phil, was there to welcome one and all, wearing a tux. All three failed to live up to my high dress standards.The barman advised that they have no Tennents lager, Bruichladdich 12-year-old single malt or deep-fried Mars Bars. Is this party going to suck?
I went to your party, and wanted to tell a bit of my story…however when I tried to tell it, i was informed that I Wasnt a member of your team.I obviously wasnt invited, so i turned around and left….
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OMG, I’m going to meet the sexiest man alive, there he is leaning on the bar talking to Marybeth, (boy does she look hot in that dress). I wonder if he’ll notice me? I’t took me hours to choose this little red dress. He glances over her left shoulder and acknowledges me. OMG what do I do? I smile. He smiles back… OMG What do I do now? That’s it I’ll introduce myself, I’ll be brave, I can do it. I walk up, extend my hand and say Hi Phil, Hi Marybeth I’m Lesley Lesley bo besley, banana fana fo fesley me my mo mesley Lesley………………
LOL…haha…PP I did the same exact thing! Then I read that we were supposed to email the damn excerpts to him. Figures. And yeah…B-52’s Phil? Really? But here’s my little contribution…not much, but it’s a start.Phil appeared in the doorway in time to see Lindsey gracefully stepping out of the limosine, looking stunning in her little black dress. “Phil! I can’t believe it’s really you!” She flashed a dimpled smile and burst into an infectious laugh.“This is really amazing. Honestly, I can’t believe you put this all together.” Phil smiled indulgently as she twirled around the ballroom coming to a breathless halt in front of him.“I have a feeling that really great things are going to happen tonight.”
Tai was GOING to show up, but someone jacked her blog.So now she’s blogless. And there’s nothing worse than going somewhere cool like a blog party with no blog.WAHH!(hey, if you see my blog somewhere can you send it back? I’m really missing it.)
Ok…so since I have officially added to your story…you have to weave in a hot rendevouz with a HOT guy for me. :o)
I’ve added the first two arrivals and will add others as fast as I can. You’ll all get in.
I show up…alas….late! I am looking good though because I have been to the tanner!!
BTW everyone, I fixed the comments on The Blog Party so everyone can comment.
Also, hello Michigan! Glad you could make it despite the time difference.
Ah!My blog is BACK! Now I’m ready to join the party!“Hey Phil…long time, never met. What’s that music I hear? The B-52’s are doing a cover of Ella Fitzgerald? Now THAT’S classy! So. Any champagne? No? That’s okay, I brought my own. Veuve Cliquot. Hope that’s okay. I imagined that you would appreciate the ‘good stuff’ and purchased accordingly.”Tai saunters over to the bar, waving her burly bodyguards to deposit the cases of champagne to be chilled.Turning and looking back over her shoulder, she tosses a mischevious grin at Phil, then surveys the room to see where best to begin.
Josie exits the limousine, gliding along the red carpet, dazzling in her vintage Givenchy frock and Jimmy Choo shoes. What’s this? Photographers rush over to greet her. They sprint past her. In their wake she hears, “Paris…! Ms. Hilton…! Over here… Paris!”Phil has paid Paris Hilton $25,000 to make an appearance at his party.
I jumped out of my limo in a rush because I had had several beers already and needed “to go.” I accidentally knocked over a homely skinny blonde. This bathroom is nice. I check my hair and make-up and am ready to head for the bar where I had seen a rakish looking dude in a kilt. This looks to be a fun night!
Travelin’ PT arrives with her fingers crossed that it won’t rain because the last time she was in NYC it rained the whole time and she soon discovered that plastic ponchos are so last season. But being a pat rack in training, she has a couple of ponchos stowed away just in case. Looking outside the window of the cab (yeah, a cab–can’t afford a limo when you work in the medical field) she’s relieved that it’s dry and that Phil is definitely going to be the next Sexiest Man Alive. Oh wait, she spoke too soon. Who’s that plaid clad gent with a skirt on and an accent she could listen to all day long. She doesn’t care that he’s wearing a skirt. Wait, was this supposed to be a costume party?