The world seems to be crashing down around our ears. Kristen says it so much better than I. Go take a look.
I’m in. Are you?
But aside from that, she's still completely normal
The world seems to be crashing down around our ears. Kristen says it so much better than I. Go take a look.
I’m in. Are you?
This is for my out of town friends who use the site to keep up with me, Poe, and the boys.
Yes, I felt the earthquake – on the phone ordering lunch on hold at the time. Dude comes back on the line, “And what would you like?” Me, “You guys okay over there?” “Oh yes, it was just a particularly long order.” Me, “I kind of meant the earth moving, but ok.”
All are well, accounted for, and just some broken stuff at home. The boys would like it to happen again, but alas, that was out of PaPa’s jurisdiction.
And for posterity’s sake: 5.4 (originally thought to be 5.8) – Kid’s first quake, which they thought was the effing bomb.
OK. So – men? You can leave now.
Just us ladies?
I’ve got a little problem and I need help from you. You see, I have this, well, nipple issue in my clothes. As in the highbeams are ALWAYS on.
Today in the restroom, my shirt was folded up while I fastened my pants and I caught a glimpse in the mirror. Mind you I’m wearing a tank top under my shirt. Plus bra. Which means, while folded up over itself, I had 6 layers over them, and still Major Highbeams.
WHAT DO I DO? I just manage to cross my arms over my chest most of the time. Is there a special kind of bra? Is that what a padded bra is for? I had never bought a padded bra before, as I have B+ cups, so I’ve never gone for more so to speak.
HELP ME. This is embarrassing. I mean – after kids, I don’t need an actual ARROW pointing south, you know?
‘m feeling a bit blocked in writing lately. So, here’s the final roundup of my thoughts and doings and pictures from BlogHer… And then I think I’m done and moving on.
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On Saturday, I finally got to meet Dooce. I almost didn’t. I walked by her, all the way to my tower elevator. I stopped, turned around, told myself I was an idiot, and went up to her. I introduced myself. We chatted about how long we’d been writing, and what it had been like prior to the tools we have today. And I thanked her. You see, whether you like her writing or not, the woman has blogged her way through harsh stuff. She kept writing through it. And so I thanked her, because sometimes I wanted to stop writing because the simple fact was it was painful. So painful. She encouraged me to never stop writing. As it took all my guts to go up to her, I didn’t take a picture. But I’m so glad to have met her.
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I was expecting cliquish stuff at the conference. I’m of the impression that any time you gather THAT many women together, some of whom know each other already, you’re going to have some groups form. And I was right. But – I didn’t feel it was cliquish in the high school cheerleaders vs. nerds kind of way. It was more like I didn’t want to interrupt these groups of women who obviously hadn’t seen each other in a year and were catching up. Being able to see someone from the other end of the country (or beyond) that you haven’t seen in ages is something special, and I didn’t want to interrupt that.
~
I got some varied reactions to me, and to my site. Some people are scared of my chick on the site. Some say it’s nothing like me and I need to put up a photo. Others say that it matches me perfectly. It was funny to me – the variety of conflicting responses I received.
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I feel like I really hit it off with Schmutzie. I was actually a little nervous. I knew I wanted to meet her, as we are twitter pals and such. However, we are opposed in many things I think… Theologically, politically, etc. So I was afraid of the conversations we might have (with her and quite a few other people.) But, well, no. We had fun! I loved hanging out with her! I’m so glad I finally saw her and introduced myself. And I hope she loves me back. Otherwise, hi awkward.
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I went to a bar with a few ladies… And there was a pink man. Who? Here, go look.
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Mrs. Flinger is fun. Period.
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One night, I called my husband for the nightly check in. I think this was Saturday night.
Poe: (in a really sincere sweet voice.) Oh my God. I miss you so much. The house just isn’t the same without you in it. (change in tone) OH. Hold on. Pizza’s here.
~
There are lots of other stories, and impressions, and such, but I think I’m done. I’m moving on. However – will I go again? Should the finances come through like this year, yes, absolutely. And if I’m willing to go again – I think that tells you something about the experience.
There are also other photos wandering around the net of me. I don’t have the energy to see how flickr rules work on copyrights – so rather than get myself in trouble accidentally – you’ll just have to click through.
If I met you, and I didn’t mention you here? It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s more that my brain has had issues with processing. I have been through every.single.card. in my possession, and I think I hit up everyone with a comment.
There. Done.
As I mentioned in my disclaimer, I smoke. Which means I go outside, yes? Homeless people have been asking me for money. And when I say that, I mean every.single.time. 3-4 a time. I don’t have it to give to them – so I would simply smile, say I’m sorry I don’t have any, and watch them move on. Some more pissed at me than others. One even trapped me in a corner, but I didn’t give up my space, so he eventually moved on.
I decided early on I was a magnet. My BlogHer08 badge screamed tourist, I suppose (not to mention I was hanging out around a hotel.)
Schmutzie came out with me. I don’t think she believed me, as we were on the other side of the hotel this time, and she hadn’t had any problems with it at all. Until 3-4 came up to us while she was with me.
Told you – I’m magnet.
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