Jul
20
Handy Tip! While sitting on your ass in an airport waiting for your delayed flight to arrive, don’t read this entry, unless you want to get all blinky-eyed and sniffly and at turns uplifted then maudlin and eventually find yourself wondering if the Unexpected Thing in YOUR future includes United Flight 820 plummeting into a mountainside on the way back to Seattle.
(Uh. If that were to happen, these would be my last words, archived forever on this page. Shit. Um, um, um, please tell my boys how very much I love them and how they have made my life more rich and joyous than I ever could have imagined and tell JB how he has been the best husband a girl could hope for even if he did just text message me an offer for a “meat burrito” when I get home and tell those rotten pets I kind of like them even though they are monstrous hairy pains in my ass and, uh, COCK-HOLSTER.)
(What? I want to be remembered for my eloquent phrasing!)
I’m glad to be on my way back home to my little family; even though it was nice to be on my own for a few days I feel something like a rubber band in my chest growing tighter and tighter and pulling me back. I miss holding Dylan, badly. I miss having weird little conversations with Riley and seeing his wide-open, smiling face. I think if BlogHer were to last one more day all the women who brought their babies with them would have take out restraining orders against me because I WANT TO TOUCH YOUR BABY RIGHT NOW NOW NOW NOW NO I DON’T CARE ABOUT GERMS OR PERSONAL SPACE YOU HAND ME THAT FUCKING BABY NOW.
I should, ha ha, clarify that I did not in fact approach any baby-toting BlogHer mamas and spray little hysterical balls of saliva-foam in their faces about how they needed to let me touch their children, just for a minute, just a TOE, give me that baby toe and let me put it in my mouth OM NOM NOM NOM. No, I did not. But it was close, on more than one occasion.
Other things I did not do: wear half the clothes I brought, take pictures of actual people, figure out a hairstyle that could survive San Francisco’s gale-force winds, hand out even 1/8 of the business cards I brought, eat at any of the nine million awesome restaurants I wanted to check out, or get Acts 2 & 3 of Dr. Horrible installed on my iPod in time for my return flight.
I did meet lots of very cool people and everyone was consistently just as awesome as they come across on their blog and even better looking in person, no lie. I didn’t love every session I went to but most were pretty good, it was mainly kind of interesting and fun to hear the conversations that would sprout up from audience questions.
BlogHer attendees tend to travel in packs and occasionally I felt dorky and weird when I was by myself; sometimes I was fairly convinced that everyone else knew everyone else and I was the only one going, who the hell are all these (fabulously coiffed) people? But whenever I forced myself to stop being flattened by self-conciousness I would inevitably strike up a conversation with a nearby friendly face, and I have to say, everyone I talked to — even if it was a five-second discussion in the elevator about the wildly fluctuating hotel temperature (it’s cold! It’s hot! Take off your sweater! Put it back on! Show us your tits!) — was nice as hell.
All in all, a good experience. I’d go next time. You should too, okay? We can travel in a pack.
PS: a few more photos — Yoga! Maniacal grinning! Random city-meandering!
Comments
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My product review site:
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Ok me being on your blog 2 minutes after you post does not = stalking, for the following reasons:
1. I received an email that you updated; and, more importantly
2. It’s Sunday and I am supposed to be completing an advice for a client, which I have procrastinated over for the past 5 weeks. The deadline is now MOST DEFINITELY tomorrow. I did jack shit when I went to the office yesterday. I’ve wasted the day, and HELL I NEED SOMETHING ELSE TO USE AS AN EXCUSE FOR NOT GETTING WORK DONE so I’m on your entry like white on rice.
See, not stalking, just procrastinating. Phew, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way:
Glad to hear you enjoyed your trip. Enjoy the tight hugs you’ll receive when you walk through the door, from all three of your guys.
Back to work for me
Is this you on the front right side of this photo too:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/foodmomiac/2682124933/
Yeesh, your deltoids are fantastic! What arms! Even though you’re just in a tiny corner of the photo it’s obvious you’re the buffest one in there.
Wish I could have been there just to join the yoginis, although I’m not sure I could have summoned any flexibility at 7am.
Sounds like a good time, and have a happy homecoming with your family – even the pets!
Oh, I hope to be in your ’09 pack. Because I don’t have a posse of my own yet.
ok, meat burrito it is tonite….cuz your yoga picture is HAWT…and i know jb is awaiting you!….i cannot even imagine you feeling dorky and weird cuz you are so cool and fab!!enjoy your welcome home with your boys!
Oh, I’m so glad to hear it! No ook from you! That makes me happy to know that even if there IS ook, it can go entirely undetected. Happy happy.
Perhaps I’ll see you next year!
(Then again, perhaps one of these years, they’ll put it on the east coast, for the love of Jesus.)
makes me feel like kicking my blog up a notch (or two hundred) so i could qualify for blogher next year –
you’re hilarious, great pictures – and i can’t imagine for one second you didn’t fit in seemlessly :) (I mean that in a good way…)
kim
Actually, I was kind of considering going next year but I’d probably be just like you and self conscious over not traveling with a pack. So yeah, maybe next year I can join said pack. That’d be pretty neat.
You are so smart for taking a picture of that text message from JB! That is some future powerful shit right there – have fun with that.
Seriously? Cock Holster? You are 10 kinds of awesome! That was great!
Yeah for a fun time!
I’d LOVE to be in your pack next year. Kinda like a Cesar Milan-type thing, right? Totally. I better start saving up now to go next year. Aaaaand mentally prepare for being away from Theo. Even though, I’m sure that in a year, I’ll be MORE THAN HAPPY to go someplace alone for a few days :-) Glad you’re back with your family.
first off, holy crap…that link…made me all weepy and shit!
next…i loved your updates and your pictures, and you seriously are the bestest girl ever! i can’t believe you had any moments at all where you didn’t have people clinging to you like love struck groupies. (cuz you know, if i was there, i’d totally be following you around all weekend starry-eyed). i’m glad you had a good time, but i’m also glad you ahve such a loving wonderful family to go back to :)
i’m also jealous. because i have never been to any sort of conference or convention. i suppose i should get some sort of interest, or hobby, or some sort of job whose title doesn’t include the word “peon” anywhere.
lastly…if they ever have some sort of conference or convention up in here in Calgary, please let me know? so i can kiss your feet…er…i mean…buy you a coffee??
(it’s very hard for me to write these comments without sounding all Stephen-King-i’m-your-number-one-fan!! sorry.)
I really enjoyed getting to know you a little over the lunches and such that we were part of the same “pack”. I’ve been calling it a posse, but I’m so white it’s not funny. Hence, “pack” is a far more appropriate term.
It’s good to be home, though. I missed my monkeys.
how did i not get to meet you??? i’m so sad!
(ps. i didn’t wear any of my clothes either!)
OK, so I’m totally going to sound like a stalker chick. But, I was scared to come say hi, so “HI!” I guess I’ve just been reading you so long that if I met you I’d gush, and then act stupid, and then scare you.
P.S. You’re adorable in person.
SF is one of my favorite places. Glad you had a good time and arrived home safely!
I am always such a dork at conventions like that. I just started this lil ol blog o mine so it may be a couple of years before I can get to it. Still trying to remember how to write and not be a subsitute for ambien. Glad to hear you had a good time.
[…] Sundry linked to this Pioneer Woman post, and I was just blown away by all the lives gone astray – I think I always feel like I’m the only one living something I never imagined for myself, and to see that it’s really true, life is what happens while you make other plans, it’s not just me… It’s another layer of community and another sigh of relief that I’m not alone. So with all that, I’ve been feeling sort of warm’n’fuzzy all morning, more inclined to connect, more part of the community. So I figured I’d reach out a little bit, write a post, offer up a book (because, like I said when I emailed Mir earlier, what can I do with two copies?), make some comments – be a piece of something a little bit bigger than my own world that I get so stuck in. […]
I’m such a newbie, but I would LOVE to go next year. Maybe if I keep tapping the keys I can make it a reality.
BTW- Dr Horrible. AWESOME. Makes me want to sing, “GRR…ARGH!!!”
I’m glad you had a good time. I’d LOVE to go but I fear I will never be Blogher worthy.
I’m so glad I got to meet you, albeit very briefly and by the Boca meatless hamburger stall.
Thank you for helping me scare away that guy at the Ruby Skye party. I couldn’t have done it without you and your delightfully inappropriate sense of humor.
ok…not so sound like a complete idiot…but how does the Blogher thing work, anyway? do you have to be invited? do you have to have some sort of blog cred or average in the billions of hits? and is it just a huge weekend of girly bloggers going to seminars on how to write better blogs? i mean…other than a looking like a lot of fun…what exactly IS it??
I cannot, CANNOT believe we missed each other all weekend. You were the VERY FIRST NAME ON MY LIST when my husband asked who I was excited about meeting, and I just assumed we’d bump into each other and be like, instant best friends la la laaaaa.
By Sunday morning I was flying around in a wide-eyed panic asking if anybody knew where you were, because *weep.*
I’m glad to be on my way back home to my little family; even though it was nice to be on my own for a few days I feel something like a rubber band in my chest growing tighter and tighter and pulling me back. I miss holding Dylan, badly.