The final (yet in some ways first) wrap up of BlogHer ‘07
August 5, 2007
Okay, so I have finally regained my eyesight. (Last year the hotel tried to kill me. This year American Airlines did. After flight cancellations, a standby list of over 200 and finally catching the last flight out of Chicago, I made it home. With two severe eye infections. I was told there were ‘ulcers’ on my eyes. Ulcers. On my eyes. What the hell? So, computer time has been limited. Anyway…) Since this has the potential of being very long, I will break it down into sections that may make it more reader friendly.
The sessions
I was able to go to several sessions, though I did miss quite a few I wanted to go to. I obviously had to go to the State of the Momosphere session seeing as just 2 years ago a mom panel almost did not even happen because “Why would anyone go listen to what Moms have to say?” so Jenny, Meghan and I had to be convincing that the panel would in fact be a success. (It was!) Now, just 2 years later the Mom panel has become standing room only. (Go, Moms!) The other panels (or is it sessions?) I went to were very well moderated and had terrific panelists. They all were informed, entertaining and great speakers. Some sessions I enjoyed just listening and hearing other thoughts. Some were informative and I feel I really was able to walk away with new information that will benefit me. And there was one or two that I wasn’t sure I would enjoy at all and find myself listening intently to what was being said. One on a topic I knew nothing about but learned enough to want to hear more. And one that I was able to make excellent professional connections afterwards. All in all, the sessions I attended were well worth it. Even the closing political keynote. (Still, no need to be apologetic that I am from Texas, Ms. Edwards.) Those I was unable to go to had excellent live bloggers covering them not to mention the actual BlogHers who were there sharing what they learned. (Thank you live bloggers!)
My only regret is that you had to either stay from beginning to end to attend a session in each track or you had to choose what to miss if you had to head back to the hotel for any reason. Friday I spilled coffee all over myself which necessitated my heading back to the hotel. There goes a good hour. The location of the conference and the hotels were both amazing and I am not complaining. Just sad I missed a few sessions I wanted to go to.
The pranks, parties and pratfalls
By now I know you have heard about the story of the Stinky Cheese making the rounds at BlogHer. Great prank. When it wasn’t in my room. Or in my roommate’s bag. Or when I had to save the world from the Stinky Cheese. Otherwise, the horror, fear and trauma it caused was hilarious. I have never seen such dry heaves over cheese as I did at BlogHer. Seriously wrong. But seriously funny.
There were a lot of parties going on. I made it to a few, but not all. I am only one person with only one liver. Some of these parties were amazing and “all inclusive because we love all of our BlogHers” and some that were more exclusive and not pleased by all of the BlogHers who did not have official name-tags and were treated with disrespect after initially being welcomed in. And then of course there was the “what started as small but everyone is invited including that nice woman in the elevator who must want to join us because you are so cool and hip being at the W” party. Yes, the ever inclusive 2603 party. Most. Awesome. Inclusive. Party. (To be shut down by two of the hugest specimen of human males ever.) I got to get thrown out of a party! So college fun! Thanks, Y and Lena. Best burgers and drinks ever. Seriously. Never loved a burger more than the one that night.
And you would think that when you are in a group of friends and someone (I won’t mention names) accidentally has her wine glass fall out of her hands while in the lobby of the hip and trendy W lobby, her friends would make sure she is okay and all is right with the world. You would be wrong. The moment the glass hit the floor and before her “Oh shit” was bellowed across the lobby, we scattered like roaches at night when a light is flipped on. Gone. Abandoned her. In fact, I joined Biff and Barbie at the bar and totally pretended to be with them the whole time. They completely went with it and acted as if I was part of their date. So. Bad. In my defense, I did give said un-named person the rest of my wine. I mean, I am not totally cold. And the wine could have had the effect of making her forget we bolted. Doubtful but possible.
The crushes, the networking and the babies
How do I ever link to all of the amazing women I was able to meet for the first time, see again after a year or reconnect with after a year of emails, phone calls and shared experiences? I don’t know how I can. I would certainly leave someone out. I can’t do that. It would be wrong because everyone I talked to was so kind and so warm that I would be crushed if I accidentally left one out because I am still Blogstipated after the conference. However, if even one of you wants me to link to these wonderful women in a post, let me know and I will do it. You are all just that amazing. Oh, and if I introduced myself to you on numerous occassions, I am really not stupid. Not really. Just Over.Whelmed. To the point of having great conversations with a blogger I adore so much and then not even realizing it was HER the whole time. She of a blog I read daily. Okay, maybe I am stupid. So? Link in an entry or blogroll it? You tell me.
What about some authors that have helped me along the way as well? I can share with you that I did finally meet a friend who has helped me immensely with my book. Yes, I am talking about the wonderful Jen Lancaster. If you think she is funny and awesome in her books and on her blog, you are not even scratching the surface of how warm, funny and (sorry, Jen) nice she is in person. And the infamous Fletch. The man reminds me so much of my husband with how he “handles” Jen. (But can you really “handle” anyone named Jen/Jenn/Jenny/Jennifer? I don’t think so.) AND she and I are working on a Special Project that will be underway as soon as we get our manuscripts to a point where we can do it justice. Because, these book things we are working on are priority right now. We are excited, so pretend to be excited with us. I also was able to meet author Wendy McClure who not only gave me some incredible literary advice, but we shared some personal moments that both of us wish we were not in a position to be able to share together.
I would be remiss if I did not mention my incredible soul-sister roommate, Busy Mom. Did you know she has a real name and so does her family? Who knew? Let me tell you something about this woman. When trying to get her roommate out of bed, she found the perfect way to send me rolling out of bed laughing. How? By throwing open the infamous shuttered bathroom “window” and belting out The Sound of Music. Way more awesome than a wake-up call.
And a personal thank you to Izzy for staying up with me until 2:30am talking, decompressing and sharing our thoughts on blogging, life and the conference. I know I stole your sleep, but it meant a lot to have a quiet moment.
And the blog crushes I was able to meet in person. Numerous and incredibly nice and warm and open to any conversation breaking into that was going on. Instead of trying to link to every one of them, I am going to create a blogroll of them that I insist you go visit them. Insist. So look for me to put the blogroll up so that you can go read my crushes. They deserve your time.
I was finally able to meet Nataly of Work It, Mom! who interviewed me a while back for her Daring Females series. (Great interviewer, by the way.) We have emailed and such since I started working with them, but the face to face meeting was so nice. Especially when I was coffee-less and hungry and had the personality of a doorknob. And yet she still did not run from me regretting her decision to work together. Bless you, Nataly.
And oh, the babies. So many adorable babies. They made my uterus twitch for more. Of course, my husband’s radar went off from many, many states away with one phone call declaring, “I sense you are around babies. No babies. Do not touch the babies. No, Jenn. No!” Damn male baby radar super sense of his! I kissed heads of many babies. One of which I did not realize was nursing at the time and even though I got permission from his mom, I felt badly about interrupting his meal. I kept asking what vendor booth had the adorable babies as swag, but no one would tell me. AND none of them would let me “borrow” theirs for a few years. (Selfish new moms and their silly attachments to their babies.) But, unlike in prior years, I did not once have to seek out a baby for a desperate lactating mom. They all had either babies or pumps to relieve their agonies. (Yeah, for the pump & dump!)
And, finally, the swag.
I just learned this year that swag stands for Stuff We All Get. Learn something new all the time. I am so easily impressed. I really only have one thing to say about the swag. Okay, I never have one thing, but something to keep in mind…it was FREE. You did not shell out $20 for every item in your bag. No one duct taped you to a chair and made you proclaim your undying love and devotion to it. It is swag. And pretty good, in my book. The break and shake martini glass. How fun is that? Loved it. And the potholder? Please, like I cook? But I have it and will use it. (To hand to my husband when he cooks.) Nothing was trashed. Nothing was dissed. Nothing was unappreciated. If you hated it, then pass it to the person beside you. They may really need/want/covet it. Just remember that it isn’t a person to person swag bag. No one size fits all bag of goodies. Love it or hate it, at least you got it. /end soapbox
Final thoughts
Great job to everyone involved in planning this conference. It was amazing. You pulled off a great event.
Amazing BlogHers I was able to spend time with: I miss you already. I mean, I really do. Call me? *grin*
[Update] I totally forgot to add…AND I had my very own lap dancer. I feel so shamed to have forgotten her. My bad!
Okay, so I never did a real BlogHer wrap up and though I know many of you are tired of it, I am doing one anyway.
First: Hi! I’m Jenn and I am from Texas. (No need to apologize for that Elizabeth Edwards. I am proud of my state.) That being said (since it wasn’t in a video and I was not given a chance to say it outloud, I am glad to have that out of my system), let’s move along.
I have to be honest when I say I almost did not go to BlogHer this year. After a lot of stuff happened between last October and this July, I just wasn’t sure. However, at the gentle request of some friends (and when I say gentle request of course I mean they threatened me with bodily harm if I did not go), I decided on Monday that I would in fact go and was on a plane by Wednesday. I am luckily one of the few that did not have airline troubles…on my way there.
Having arrived after 10:00pm at the ever so chic and hip W, I realized they are PEPSI people. This girl here is a Diet Coke gal. So I frantically rushed the front desk begging them to lead me to a Diet Coke. They told me I could pay about $100 at the bar or walk down two blocks to a 7-11.
I just stared at her. Two blocks? Like city blocks? In a big city? After a few moments of what must have looked like small town terror, the nice one (there was a nasty one there, too) reached out and touched my arm stating, “I am from Indiana and it is totally NOT scary. Just go!” *whew* I would not be killed to get a Diet Coke. (Of course when I saw an elderly couple walking ahead of me on the sidewalk, I got right up behind them–as in could smell his Old Spice cologne– and walked “with” them. Hey, I was tired and in a new city past dark. And remember, I AM from Texas (no apology needed).
Having stocked up on my DC, I eagerly went to crash in my room. But there was this THING that, personally, freaked me the hell out. A black fuzzy (and I am assuming hip and trendy) fuzzy cube staring at me. I think it mocked my accent. I decided to give that bed to Busy Mom the next day. No cube is going to take me out in the middle of the night.
As soon as I got cozy in my bed in my pj’s, Jenny called and told me to come up and dish in her room. Not being of the hip and trendy W crowd (Texas girl…no apology necessary), I just threw on my pink Croc flip-flops (Susan said it was totally okay since I was in my pajamas and that is about all they are good for) and raced to elevator where I encountered a man who was hip and trendy and all W-ish. He looked at me. I looked at him. Then in a conspiratorial whisper said, “Panty raid on the 20th floor, dude.” He was a bit horrified and probably a tad scared of me. Croc flops do that to a person. Anyway, I crashed Jenny’s room where we dished and ate $100 Snickers bars from the “honor” bar. That would be one of the few quiet moments of the weekend.
After returning to my room I pulled down the shade. You know the ones to darken the room? Yeah, but see then there came this gawd awful noise outside. Like someone dragging an 18-wheeler up the side of the building. In my attempt to check it out, the shade fell on my head. Fell. On. My. Head. But only half of it and not the bar itself, just the shade part.
I begin to literally dance around in panic. “Oh crap! Oh crap! I broke The W!” After climbing on the chair and wrestling with the son-of-a-bitch for about an hour, I finally got it rolled back up. Dirty and sweaty and in need of a chemical spray down, I was officially exhausted. And it was 3:00am. The noise was just thunder. All that for THUNDER? That is like a normal sound in Tornado Alley here in Texas (no apology needed), but it sounded…different.
The next morning arrived with glee and joy. Oh wait, I mean exhaustion and exhaustion, but I was so excited to meet my roommate and get this party started I immediately threw on clothes to go in search of real coffee. In my glasses-less state, I totally looked right at Chris Jordan and kept walking. Totally NOT a snub. Just blind and coffee-less. (Love you, Chris!) It wasn’t until I was showered, had my coffee fix and could see again that I joined the lovely ranks of the BlogHers that had arrived already. The day was a blur of going here and there and meeting and greeting amazing women. (I will link, but I am just so brain fried, not right now.) I had lovely conversations at the cocktails parties BlogHer provided and met women I have only hoped of meeting in person and acted like a total stalker. I am okay with that, too. Sorry to any I scared.
I do remember the RANK ass smell in my room, though. Personally, I thought Lindsay had stomach issues after using our bathroom. What can you do when you have a bathroom with shutters and a barn door?
And then we had the Whiskey Bar. Oh, the Whiskey Bar. (Photo courtesy of mammK Kimberly who lifted it from someone else.) That is a post in and of itself. Let the pictures do the talking. I got an impromptu tattoo and hung out with fun people and screamed so much to be heard of the hip and trendy music that I lost my voice.
In my next post I will talk about the actual sessions. (I am pretty sure that was the purpose of this conference.) The Lisa Ling experience. Getting lost on the Miracle Mile. And having my roommate sing me awake to the Sound of Music. Meeting Jen Lancaster live and in person and slipping my hotel key to her husband. Having amazing conversations with other authors who gave me great advice and support. (Wendy and Ariel and even Amy Sedaris.) And I came home with new jobs. Rock it!
Will you care if I write more of a wrap up later? Because I want to. I really do!
For now, I have to go do my “real” work and make those big bucks!
I am still suffering from a BlogHer intensity hangover. And I am blind in one eye and half in the other. So, while I mull over the entry that will recap BlogHer, I will at least send you to a few pictures that I took.
I am eager to update you all about people I met, things I saw, things I smelled and just my general impressions. It was a different year for me this year and that was a good thing. Anyway, go look at pictures. (And if you have any pictures of BlogHer, let me know and send me to them!)
I tried to caption them, but my eyes are in agony. (More on that later.) The more I sit at the computer, the more they hurt, so I gave up after a while. Please feel free to add notes, captions and comments. I would love that. It does not mean I do not know who you are. It means I love you, but my eyesight sucks and it HURTS to look at the screen. Because you know I love you best.
I have heard that there are a lot of fans of the Wii. (Can you believe I said that with a straight face? I don’t know anyone who has played Wii without loving it. In fact, I have a whole set of pictures of a family party at the beach playing the Wii. Stay tuned for links.) I have also read the documents on how to set it up. I was shocked that there was no mention as to how to play this modern miracle of technology in the car.
Now, I know that there is a huge segment of parents who believe that the car is the best place to “communicate” with their children. Ha! When driving from Texas to Florida, I am all about the beauty of technology. And am willing to try anything. Apparently so are my children.
You see a prime example of how my children love technology enough to not care how uncomfortable it is. Now, one of the things I love about the Wii is that it gets you off of you butt and onto your feet to play. However, I also love that the game is so much fun to play that the kids insisted that we unpack it to try to play it in the car. (We took it to Florida for days like these.) So, being the “Please let me listen to my tunes and zone out while I drive this motley crue across county” type of Mom, I agreed.
Let me just share with you the love of my Wii. I heart it. I slept with it one night but Clint said no more of that. He said it was crowded sleeping with my Senseo, my laptop and my Wii. (Can you blame a girl? I love my toys!)
So for anyone who may be wondering, “Is a Wii for me?” Hell yeah, baby! I mean… certainly it should be a considered product to purchase.
—-
Now on to topics beyond technologicalizing my children. (Yes, I do love making up words. Why do you ask?) I have seen a lot of fun entries around the net. Guessing the truth or the lie. Asking me anything and I have to answer it honestly. Paying for you to comment. (Not really on that last one. You have been great! I have heard from my niece AND my coffee neighbor. Tickles me all pink and purple and a little bit of cyan.) What do you want? I mean, I will still write the babble-assing posts, but I want to know if you want to know anything. Do you?
—
Okay, so it looks like BlogHer might not happen for me. It is at least on hold for a while. After getting a severe punch to the gut financially, I am not going to buy a plane ticket until a week before BlogHer at the soonest. Anyone in DFW want to go to BlogHer and make it a road trip? Anyone between here and Chicago want to get picked up and finish the road trip? Honestly, I had questions about going, but now that I am set on it and am over the moon about friends I know that are going, I want to be there. So, honestly, if you want to road trip it, let me know. I am up for it. (At least I keep trying to tell myself that I am.) Are you?
And here, my friends is yet another pretty picture to keep you loving me and being patient while I play around with my blog.
Okay, you read (or not) my general recap of BlogHer ‘06. But let me tell you the real drama. I know that you are waiting for it. The horror. The terror. The near death experiences. Yes, my friends, the Hyatt tried to kill me. (*Disclaimer: There was nothing that the amazing triumvirate could do. I am not complaining about the location. Just the death the hotel wished upon me.)
When I arrived on Wednesday, I was told I was in cellblock 8 building 8. No problem. Great exercise. Then I walked into the building. Oh, yes, the battle had begun. Hyattyville tried to sauna me out with the heat of a thousand saunas inside the hallways and room. Right. Trying to mess with a Texas gal by using heat? Not a prayers chance of out heating me with the your measly 100% humidity and 105 degree hallways. I laugh at that. Come see Texas in August. I thought perhaps I heard whispers of “Get out” when I got on the elevator and saw the sign that said the inspection expired in 2005. Nah. Not a problem. I can take it.
Day two. We notice that the left side of my face is swelling. By 5:00pm I have been asked twice if I have a jawbreaker in my mouth. Baffled by what it could be, I take Benadryl. Take that Hyattyville. Bring on your swelling. I slap you down with the miracle that is Benadryl. By Friday morning the swelling was down some. I look just a tad off of the swelling. Ha! Battle won.
Friday night. Hyattyville is getting rather pissed off that I am not heading it’s warnings and takes drastic measures. The left side of my face swells to proportions that look as if I am doing my best half Marlo Brando/Godfather impression. “Don’t mess with da family!” (Or in this case, “Don’t mess with da mommy bloggers.”) But no! Seeing as I had the mighty sword of Benadryl, the Hyattyville threw in the Swelling Tongue of death. My tongue had hives on it. Hives. Say it with me…..The hell?? So by 5:30pm on Friday, I am speaking in a very bizarre way.
“Are you drunk?” was a phrase I heard more than once. To which I replied, “I am noth drunthk. My tongthe ith thwollen. Doth thith soundth drunkth? No! Thith is thwollen tongthe.” Oh it was on. It was SO ON. I had to speak twice the next day. I could not be Thwollen Tongthe Girl. More Benadryl. And just to be safe, a few LemonDrops. Because what Benadryl cannot fix, Lemon Drops can make you forget. By morning, a lot of the tongue swelling was down but not the face. The hell? By this time many, many of the women I was hanging out with were trying to guess at the cause. Allergic to something I ate? (Never have been before!) Something I drank? (Certainly not alcohol. Maybe ass water.) Spider bite? (Okay, make me sleep with the light on and a shoe in my hand all night now!) Nothing seemed to fit.
Walking into the hotel on Saturday evening, I was used to the routine. Face explodes. Tongue swells. People guess as to my ailment. However, this time I heard the Hyattyville very clearly say it: “Get out!”It even wrote it out for me. But like any idiot in a horror movie, I giggle nervously and stayed.
It wasn’t until 3:45am Saturday night/Sunday morning that I realized maybe I was in over my head here. I crawled back to my bed with my very swollen face, a tongue that looked three times it’s normal size and a throat that was itchy and raw. “You win!” I screamed at the Hyattyville.
Sunday morning after 2 hours of sleep, I think even Jenny heard it. “GET OUT!”
Let me tell you something. I threw stuff into my suitcases and got the hell out of dodge. There is being tough and then there is being killed by a hotel. This time the Hyattyville won. But we are not finished, my horror friend. If we shall we meet again, I will not let you take me down.
Update: clickmom was less than happy that I left her hanging. (Sorry!). In answer to her question as to whether it went away when I left the Hyattyville Horror Hotel, the answer is yes. By the time I reached the comfy and safe (not trying to kill me) home of Jenny, I was just fine. It WAS the hotel. I swear it.
BlogHer ‘06. I want to recap. I want to discuss. I want to share my experience. I want to stay neutral. Before I do any of that, I recommend you read this excellent post by Lisa Stone on what it takes to put a conference together. I have heard negative talk and tried to stay away from it. I have heard the positive talk and embraced it. I have seen drama and rolled my eyes. I have seen passion and embraced it. I want to address a bit of it first.
If you felt as if you were under represented, suggest a panel.
If you felt your voice was not heard, suggest a panel.
If you felt that you were marginalized, suggest a panel.
Is the theme clear, here? One can be upset by the way things did or did not go, but if you complain without trying to fix it, you really have very little to complain about. BlogHer’s mission: To create opportunities for women bloggers to pursue exposure, education, and community. This means speak up. That is all I will say about it.
———–
Now, for my personal take on the conference. It. Rocked. My. Socks. Off. I want so badly to link to all of the amazing women I met and who gave me something amazing to bring back with me, but do you really want to read a link list of 750 women? Everyone there made the conference what it was, so every one of them should receive credit for making it what it was. And if I actually link to the women I met that I spent a lot of time with, I would certainly leave one of them off and hurt a new friend. Not going to do that. You will just have to keep coming back here as I link to them throughout my various posts.
When I left BlogHer, that Sunday the mention of the conference brought me to tears. Poor Jenny was taking me back to her house exhausted and there I am a blubbering mess. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because I was overwhelmed and on overload? Maybe because I had too little time with too many people and longed for more time to get to know people better? Maybe lack of sleep? Believe it or not, crowds overwhelm me. Not speaking in front of them. That doesn’t bother me in the least. I thrive on that. But there were so many women that I wanted to talk to. I was worried about making sure I didn’t accidentally snub someone because of being overwhelmed by the amount of people around me and how that really stressed me out. Trying to keep track of people I met and who I have not and who I wanted to meet who who blogged where etc. I need and thrive on knowing people and who they really are. The short conversations were stressful. But I LOVED meeting so many women! (I am adding all of them to my link list that I got a card from. If I did not get a card from you and you want added or we met and I am an idiot and did not add you, drop me a line. Then blame it on the hotel trying to kill me.)
Last year I wrote this about BlogHer ‘05:
As I write this, I struggle to find the right words. Words that let them know (and let you know) how much I appreciate them. I sit here with tears streaming down my face as I think of how I arrived a broken and rather shattered woman and left with a soul that had been healed. I needed to be there. I needed to meet every woman I met. They each gave me something I can hold onto forever. I found sisterhood, friendship and warmth in so many of them.
The year that followed BlogHer ‘05 was hell. Those friendships and sisterhood I made last year got me through this year. So what did I bring home from BlogHer ‘06? Pretty much most of the same. I met women I adore and will keep up with until we can get together again.
I was bothered by a lot of negative talk. Probably because I did not see it. I didn’t know it was there until it was pointed out by other people. My goodness, the hotel tried to kill me and I still had an amazing time. Maybe some of my emotion came from watching Lisa, Jory and Elisa put their heart and soul into it and (wrong or right), it broke my heart to see negativity so easily thrown around. So sue me. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I thought I learned my lesson last year not to do that, but I am who I am.
I do have to give a shout out to the amazing panel I was honored to speak on. Outreach Blogging. The moderator was danah boyd. Can I just gush and tell you of the blog crush I have on this amazing woman? She was the perfect person to moderate this panel. She is warm, caring and sensitive to the nature of the delicate topics that are being discussed. She was a comfort and was safe. On the panel with me was three amazing women: Leah Peterson of leahpeah, Denise of Daily Dose of Denise and Erica at marzena. Liz Henry had a great recap of it hereon the Huffington Post. Did you go to it? I would love to hear from you if you did!
But what encompassed the entire weekend, what people should remember is the way on Day Two when there were technical issues, the room raised it’s voice as one singing, “All You Need Is Love”. Isn’t that what we should all bring home from BlogHer? That women supporting women feeling that was captured in that moment. A moment that could have been awkward, negative and embarrassing became a moment when the group of 700+ women (and men) came together as one in a joint effort to support Lisa and the tech issues.
And really, isn’t that what BlogHer is there to do? Support each other and help each other along? Just something to think about.
Sometimes in life you just need to grab on and go for the ride. That is exactly what BlogHer ‘06 was for me. I know everyone is over with the recaps, but I just got home, so I get a pass from the Internet to let me ponder one more day and then recap. But as much as everyone loves reading about things like this, we all know you really, really love seeing the pictures. (At least, I have had one hell of a good time looking at all of them and smiling at the fun that was had.)
I do have my photos up on Flickr now. And then I wander around and see ones that make me cringe. Not from regret but because I have the incredible ability to be insanely hyper, have no sensor from my brain to my mouth and do jackassery things while sober. But honey, this Mommyblogger can promise you a good, pee in your pants time.
And then there are times when you are just feeling the love and need the hug that you will hop into a hot-tub for a good hug. Oh yes, I am fully clothed in that hot tub. I went for the hug and slipped full faced, under the water, down to the bottom of the hot-tub. Damn right we were going to photograph it. Now normally, someone would just jump out, grab a towel and change. Nope. I decided to just jump from the hot tub to the pool. I had been waiting to do that all weekend. Mr. Hyattityville Horror Hotel Rent a Cop was not amused. So I smiled, waved, shook my red hair dry in his general direction and headed to Cell Block 8 for dry clothes.
Good times, people. Good times. Tomorrow, I promise real thoughts about the conference. Because you deserve them and because, well, I want to write them. And it’s my blog and I’ll babbleass if I want to. (Did you hear the sing song there? Totally sing song southern drawled that one for y’all!)
Are you familiar with the song Do You Know the Way To San Jose? I am. I know the song. Or rather that annoying lyric to it. But you want to know the kicker there…apparently no one told me the way HOME from San Jose. I got home today. This afternoon. One official week after BlogHer officially started and I just got home. (I will pause for the “poor babies” and “b and “there-there’s” now.)
It’s not so much that I got lost. I had a plan. There were schedules. I was taken in like the bum I am and was well taken care of. First by one of my beautiful partners in crime, Jenny and then by the incomparably awesome Grace (and I am so sneaking Malcolm into my carry-on next time!) But then it seemed as if the travel Never Stopped. The plane took about 723 hours to get to Houston. Then I had to drive an hour to my Dad’s house to be accosted by my children. And still. Still not home. But today. Ahhhh, but today I did get home. After 6 hours in a car. With a teen, a tween and a kindergartner. (Sounds like the set-up to a really bad joke. Trust me. There was nothing funny about it.)
I was so very tired. So. Very. Tired. Do you want to know what can get your adrenaline pumping like mad? One of these cars in the picture below pulling up behind you with lights flashing like the 4th of July!
That is Officer Clary. My son took that picture as we passed because he was bored and taking pictures. Being the mature mom I am, as soon as the police man pulled behind me with lights and all, I turn to my son with, “What did you do? I am totally legal! This must be your fault for taking his picture.” (Therapy in his future. We saved for it.)
Turns out it is illegal not to have a front licence plate in Texas. Who knew? My car is a 1998 and has no bracket for a plate. I guess I will have to go duct tape one on. But the conversation with the officer was priceless.
Officer Clary: “Ma’am, do you know why I pulled you over?”
Me: “To make me cry because I am tired and want to go home and you feel like being mean?”
OC: “Well, umm…no, you see you have no front license plate.”
Me: “Really? Really that is it? No. Front. Plate.”
OC: “Well, yes ma’am. You need that.”
Me: “Yeah, okay, I can see that this is an issue of great magnitude, but the problem there is that there is no place to put one. But really, I will get right on it anyway.”
OC: “Can I see your driver’s license please?”
[checks it out, sees I am not a wanted fugitive and returns]
OC: [checking out my loaded to capacity car with children crammed in like pickles in a pickle jar he casually asks me where I am coming from.]
Me: [I lift my sunglasses to reveal bloodshot eyes with tears in them because he is keeping me from HOME, raccoon black circles under my eyes, wrinkles that were not there 2 weeks ago and a look that says I dare you to mess with me at this moment in time when my face and feet and this puffy and I have PMS!] “Well, California then Houston and now I am trying to go to Dallas and really, I just want a bed. Are you going to arrest me because a bed to myself and 3 square meals a day brought to me (with no ass water) sounds really nice.
So, Officer Clary, can you just cuff me now. I mean, I have been peeing in front of women all weekend. I have groped and been groped and have been surrounded nonstop by 750 women for an intense weekend that started more than a week ago, so none of that prison crap will phase me. And, oh, did I mention I am just so tired! Bed? Food? Cuff me! Please!”
He gave me a warning. A warning. With 4 more hours to drive. No bed. No cuffs. I got the raw end of that deal. I was hoping for sleep.
But alas, I made it home. HOME. Where I immediately collapsed on my driveway (cracked and all)….
And gave it a big kiss just to tell home I was happy to be there.
Because did I mention how tired I am? How much I miss my bed? I did miss my bed. Don’t get me wrong. Jenny is an awesome bedmate, but my home is not trying to kill me like the hotel was (more on THAT later with my recap because the hotel did try to kill me and I have witnesses to it!)
So tell me…did you miss me? Did ya? If you met me, did you respect me in the morning?
And if you see officer Clary, tell him that really, all I wanted was a good cuffing and taken to a nice bed. Not a piece of paper saying, “Keep driving for HOURS and HOURS and you may get home.”
There’s no place like home…can someone take me there?!
August 2, 2006
Still
Not
Home
From
BlogHer ‘06
—–
I will update and lend my thoughts later. (If by then anyone cares!) What I can say is that I met amazing women that touched my life (and made me wet my pants, fall in a hot tub fully clothed and sober (LISA, the badge! the badge!), cry with laughter, cry with emotions and get more out of the weekend than I could have expected) and that I will be linking to them a lot. To quote one of them (who may not want credit for the comment thought I totally cracked up over it so I will have to check before I link her)
There is much linking to be done! Therefore…”I have a year to go from being her bitch to her super bitch.”
| 
|
Sometimes in life you just need to grab on and go for the ride. That is exactly what BlogHer ‘06 was for me. I know everyone is over with the recaps, but I just got home, so I get a pass from the Internet to let me ponder one more day and then recap. But as much as everyone loves reading about things like this, we all know you really, really love seeing the pictures. (At least, I have had one hell of a good time looking at all of them and smiling at the fun that was had.)
And then there are times when you are just feeling the love and need the hug that you will hop into a hot-tub for a good hug. Oh yes, I am fully clothed in that hot tub. I went for the hug and slipped full faced, under the water, down to the bottom of the hot-tub. Damn right we were going to photograph it. Now normally, someone would just jump out, grab a towel and change. Nope. I decided to just jump from the hot tub to the pool. I had been waiting to do that all weekend. Mr. Hyattityville Horror Hotel Rent a Cop was not amused. So I smiled, waved, shook my red hair dry in his general direction and headed to Cell Block 8 for dry clothes.
