‘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.

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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.

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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.

My Flicker Set

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.

Here

Here

Here

Here

Here

Here

Here

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.

If you wanna see a picture of me – go here.  Schmutzie took it.

I’m sitting at the airport, waiting for boarding.

Next to me is a man with a braid, and real birkenstocks.  I had forgotten about those.

I recently saw a gentleman get off a plane who looked exactly like he came out of an 80’s hair band.  Long hair, black clothes.  He walked with a limp, and had the COOLEST silver tipped cane.

Tired travelers.  Tired kids.  Parents dragging.

I have to say though, this is the best, quickest time I’ve ever had.  I was the only one in check in, baggage check, and security, so went right through.  I love the Burbank Airport, I sincerely do.  I wish I could always fly out of here.