When you go to BlogHer, apparently you’re supposed to take about a million pictures so that you can remember the weekend since you might be really drunk tired the whole time and that messes with your memory.
Unfortunately, I only took two pictures – both of them horribly blurred and neither one of me – and now I find myself searching on Flickr for pictures of things that I went to so that I can see people who I SHOULD have met if I hadn’t been an absolutely scared asshole.
Saturday night The Bloggess and I inadvertently shared an elevator and she had on her Confidence Wig and you know, I should have ripped that thing off of her head and then run out the elevator and shoved it on my head and then I would have been good to go and stuff. However, since the Confidence Wig is rather famous, I have a sneaking suspicion that someone would have noticed and someone might have called security like that guy who showed up at the CheeseburgHer Party to toss everyone out [and that guy was BIG] and anyway, The Bloggess said that she loved me so how could I in good conscious steal from her?
We left here on Thursday at the ass crack of dawn and things were going great until we hit road construction somewhere in Indiana and the nine hour trip ended up taking just over twelve hours and I sat in traffic while the Social Luxe party was going on. Sad times. When we finally got checked into the hotel, I grabbed a shower, put on my leopard print dress from Lane Bryant and my super cute shoes and went to 704’s party. I met a butt ton of people who I talk to on Twitter almost daily, people I’ve never met before and ended the night rather drunk [Tucker says that I walked into a wall but I think he’s full of shit].
The next day brought EXTREMELY sore feet and legs. I went to a couple of sessions and while I enjoyed them, I wanted to bury my head in the proverbial sand.
BlogHer 2009 was amazingly overwhelming for me. So overwhelming that after the sessions on Friday, I told Tucker that I just wanted to go home. Pathetic, no? It didn’t help that by the end of the day, my super cute zebra print flats had worn a hole [no. seriously. a hole] in my heel and by the time that Tucker, Ollie and I humped our way over to the Walgreens near the Sheraton, my foot was wet from blood and Tucker had to doctor my foot while I was standing on the sidewalk in the middle of Chicago.
How’s that for a memory?
I went to the Nikon Party that night and had an absolute BLAST. I got a picture with Carson [who said he LOVED my purple shirt – Lane Bryant Icon collection, thank you very much], saw some great flair bartending and developed a mini-crush on the bartender and ended the night at the MamaPop party.
While I had been at the sessions on Friday, Tucker and Ollie went to the Field Museum. I felt a bit guilty for missing the sessions on Saturday, but we decided to go to the Field Museum so that I could see what Tucker and Ollie had seen. Also, my brain was so fried from all of the sights and sounds and people at BlogHer that I really needed a break. I limped around the museum with Ollie in his sling and we had a great time. Such a good time that we’re considering going back to Chicago soon just to go back to the museums that we missed.
Saturday night I considered blowing everything else off because I’m a big chicken but, in the end, I’m really glad that I didn’t. CheeseburgHer was that night and I got to meet Table for Five in person and I sat next to her for a while since she had managed to find a somewhat quiet spot in the suite that was VERY packed.
When it became obvious that the party was getting broken up [the BIG security dude I mentioned was my first hint] I went back down to the lobby and I sat outside smoking with some people for the longest time and I had a blast.
And right here is where I was going to make a list of people who I remember meeting but then I started writing out the list and fuck if I can remember everyone and I don’t want to list some people but not others since I have the memory of a goldfish so I’m just not gonna list anyone. Why hurt feelings when it’s my fault that I lack short term memory?
I would like to be able to say that I can’t wait until BlogHer 2010 but I can’t say that. This isn’t one of those post-BlogHer things that you sometimes read where people blame their lack of fun on the conference since I really believe that you make your own fun [and I did have pockets of fun] but the conference was just too freakin’ big for me. Too overwhelming. Sensory overload with a very big dose of estrogen and drama.
I realized that the parts of the conference that I most enjoyed were the small moments where it was me and either one other person or me and a small group of people just hanging out and talking. Sometimes we talked about business and sometimes we talked goofy stuff but connections happened that I didn’t feel most of the time. Not the conference’s fault really – me and my hangups just couldn’t handle it all.
It would be amazingly wrong of me if I didn’t mention my mom for keeping Cara while we were gone. Apparently while we were gone, Cara lost her shit because she didn’t want to go to sleep and the next door neighbor came over because she heard a loud thump through the wall [which was probably Cara kicking the wall] and the woman said that she wanted to make sure that Cara was OK. Needless to say, that didn’t please my mother very much.
Also, I have to thank Tucker for being so fucking awesome and keeping Ollie while I did my thing. If it hadn’t been for Tucker, I wouldn’t have been at BlogHer in the first place and I would have been even more freaked out than I was with him there. That and I would have had to drive myself and I hate driving on long trips like that. It makes me want to go to sleep and sleeping is never a good thing when you’re the one who has to drive.
I also have to thank Lane Bryant for helping me out with my sweet ass clothes because without them I literally would have had nothing to wear except old maternity clothes, Sorrelli jewelery who hooked me up with some beautiful jewelery for the conference, Yummi Tummie who provided me with some awesome tanks that made my gut not so gutty [is that a word?] and Pinky Vodka for sending me a freakin’ case of mini bottles of their fabulous vodka for me to hand out.
In the end, I’m glad that I went to BlogHer.
I’m honored by the people who took the time to have wonderful conversations with me. I’m thankful for the people who gave me compliments on my clothes and jewelery since those small, kind words helped me not feel so self conscious. I wish that I could have met everyone I speak with on a daily basis on Twitter but there will be other conferences and other opportunities and hopefully next time, I won’t be such a chicken.