Jun
13
When I was in contract discussions for this writing gig a while back I was surprised to see that the client wanted to send me to BlogHer this year, presumably because no one had informed them what a braying, pants-wetting jackass I am in large social settings. Now that the conference is a month away I suppose I should be fretting over the fact that I’ll be leaving my precious babies for a few days but to be honest all I keep thinking is: HOTEL ROOM TO MYSELF. A FULL NIGHT’S SLEEP. PAY PER VIEW PORN.
(I’m just kidding about that last one. Unless “porn” = “room service dessert menu”.)
I should go ahead and confess that when I received a very nice email asking if I needed childcare for BlogHer I basically responded, “Ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa NO.” No, I will not be traveling to BlogHer with a 3-year-old and an infant, my GOD, and for those who ARE bringing the kidlets along, you are made of stronger stuff than I. See also: batfuck crazy. No, wait, I mean, to each their own. I’m sure your kids will have a lot of fun. Hey, who doesn’t remember those heady summer days of childhood, when you’d beg your parents: “Please, please, can we go to a 3-day blogging conference? Please can we learn about content syndication and advertising models?”
ANYWAY, I’ve been to San Francisco several times now on business but I’ve never had time to actually see anything but the blocks surrounding the Moscone during daylight hours. Since I’ll be arriving the Thursday before the BlogHer conference starts, I’d really like to do something touristy. It will be late afternoon once I get checked into the hotel and have spent a while reviewing and strategizing my porn late-night creme brulee options, so I won’t have a LOT of time, and it will probably be right at the most traffic-y part of the day, but for those of you familiar with the area: what would you recommend? Where should I go? What’s the one thing you’d do if you had a few hours to kill in the city?
Lastly, here’s the Weekly Elsewhere Blogging lineup:
• The ongoing search for exercise/diet motivation [Gather.com]
• A damn fine list of workout music, if I do say so myself [SundryBuzz]
• Making small talk and things I can no longer do [ParentDish]
• Awesome bath products [Work it, Mom!]
Jun
12
I was at my “Turbo Kick” class at the gym last night and I had motored along fairly well until the last part of class when the instructor launches into this monotonous, horrifying routine of punches and kicks that just goes on and on and on for maybe twelve or thirteen hours straight, punch punch punch punch punch punch punch punch jab jab jab jab jab jab jab jab zigzag zigzag knee back kick back kick front kick front kick front kick front kick REPEAT, and I got to thinking that instead of visualizing a smaller waistline or whatever as my form of motivation for making it through without doing that thing where you go get a drink of water but you take your sweet-ass time about it because really, it’s less about hydrating and more about taking a break before projectile vomiting ensues, I should be thinking about how my improved physical fitness will help me when the zombie plague eventually sweeps the earth. I mean, have you seen the new, fast zombies? Those motherfuckers will run you down and suck your brain dry in no time, I don’t know about you but I’d like to feel capable of putting some distance between my delicious, tempting flesh and their rotted, yet still powerful jaws, and I need to be strong enough to carry a couple of small children while I’m sprinting for my life because the kids might be a pain in my ass at times but it’s not like I want them to become zombie kabobs.
That train of thought thundered right past Crazy Town and into Batshit City as we all hunkered into the godawful bend-down-touch-the-floor-with-one-hand-then-straighten-up-and-kick-the-opposite-leg routine and I decided that what we need is a zombie preparedness training franchise. Preferably designed by Max Brooks, this would be a series of classes a person could take which would involve an intense physical regimen combined with classic survival training: how to dress a wound (not a zombie afflicted wound, obviously, since if you’ve been bitten you should probably be concerning yourself with finding the nearest gun so you can . . . well, that subject will be in the class too, and let’s be honest, it won’t be cheery), combat techniques, recognizing poisonous plant species, turning your household into a defensible stronghold — you know, the usual.
Sure, maybe the cardio-triggered lack of oxygen had something to do with this idea, but I’m telling you, I think it’s got merit. People would take this class for general survivalist tips, people would take it because they thought it was funny, people would take it because even though they joke about the subject they find themselves thinking about zombies at the strangest times, just idly considering the nightmarish possibilities, remote though they must surely be, ha ha ha ha haaaaa.
Now, a class about werewolves or some shit would just be fucking stupid. You see the difference, right?
See? Totally worth saving from the undead. I’ll be honest, though, I’m not sure I feel the same way about Cat. Would she save ME? I think not.
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