BlogHer 06: The Year Of The Ovary

Addendum:

BlogHer, as most of you probably know by now, was definitely not a flawless gathering of the minds; it boasted its fair share of le drama, but amidst the craziness, there were many positive moments, and positive people, and I was able to meet many wonderful, opinionated, strong women who truly inspire me. Thus, this post acts as a sort of recap for readers on my (limited and personal) experience of the weekend’s events, from a sunshine-y, yes, but also an honest, point of view.

A very special smooch, and a mushy heartfelt thanks, to the ever-wonderful A(manda B.), whose generosity (and spooning) made this trip possible, and far better than I could ever have imagined.

The Approach

Friday morning at 2am Chris and I proceeded to (lose our minds, yes, and) pile ourselves and three bags (I packed in one bag. ONE! bag. That was Ladish Travel History, right there.) into the car and drive six hours South and West to Portland.

As per the way I like to move about the country, my particular flight to San Jose was packed with screaming children, children below the age of those able to understand that the pressure filling their little ears will indeed dissipate and their heads will not explode or be crushed, and that no, that is not her natural hair color, and she probably didn’t come by that caribbean-looking tan naturally, either.

Because I hadn’t slept at all the night prior to take-off, and also because I’m ninety percent sure I can (and will) sleep through the apocalypse, I slept the entire flight, a little boy sobbing and his little (bit older) sister screaming “It’s! OK!” into his little plugged ears my soothing Sleep Soundtrack.

The “E” In BlogHer Surely Stands For Estrogen, Not That I’m Complaining, Except I Am, A Little, Mostly Because Two Days Of Intense Estrogen-Laden Interaction Tricked My Body Into Thinking It Was My Turn For A Monthly Cycle, Thanks Ladies,

Or: Too Sexy For Their Shirts; So Sexy It Hurts

TheGirls, from left: Sherri, Chantel, Amanda

In addition to rooming with the lovely Mrs. B, I was privileged to meet and spend a good deal of time with three wonderfully sassy women I will now regularly and proudly harass, one of whom lives close enough to eat half of my french fries and who shares my affinity for Heineken.

Miss PortlandPants

These women were genuine and authentic, outgoing and motivated, beautiful and intelligent, hilarious and adorably sunburnt.

TheStampyDance

TwoAmandas

I miss their company and kooky-ness already.

Close Encounters Of The Big(weB)log Kind

Being privvy (by no real skill of my own) to meeting and chatting with Heather (B. Armstrong), Grace Davis, Leah (Peah), Amalah, and Alice (Mrs. Finslippy) was a nice and quite unexpected addition to the weekend. There might have even been some giddy euphoria at some point. And definitely some Heineken consumption at multiple points.

In addition to being incredibly well-spoken, and superb at the instant-Southern-drawling, Heather is indeed as tall as a redwood and lovelier than pictures could suggest. She was extremely down-to-earth and told us stories of Leta with an overwhelming and sweet fondness spreading across her face. We talked about missing people like we would miss apendages of ourselves (Jon, and Scott and Chris, specifically). She playfully teased Amanda about the unmistakable Southern sound in her voice, and told her it made her nostalgic for home. I’m pretty sure it was also making her nostalgic for BBQ and cornbread.

Amanda and Heather, at our trademark table

Grace possessed an uncanny natural ability of making you feel as if she was the! most! excited! to meet you, personally, and while I don’t remember ever seeing her actually sitting still throughout the entire weekend, she clearly still made every person with whom she conversed feel valuable and important, whether she was able to talk to you for twenty minutes, or two.

Leah is outspoken and intelligent, and spent all conference interviewing influential mommas for AlphaMom. When she finally emerged from all the questioning chaos she brought our table four glasses of wine.

Amy (Amalah) seemed incredibly patient, smiled constantly, and, while admitting to being exhausted, never faltered when flanked on all sides by women who wanted to say hello, or compliment her shoes (they were indeed rather awesome shoes), or take her picture while she enthusiastically held a piece of paper adorned with an internet-savvy family member’s name. She remembered Chris from back in the day, and recognized me as “the girl who started him blogging again.” She hugged me after we talked and told me to make sure he kept writing.

Alice was hilarious and visited our table multiple times so that Chantel could magically open her beer with a Bic lighter. She also jokingly blamed C for thusly getting her “drunk”, talked about her own disappearing panties after speaking with Arianna Huffington, and said that she had heard of my site. I can’t really remember the order of those statements, but I am pretty sure she was kidding about the knowing of my site part, or, you know, happily drunk on Chantel’s bottle-opening skillz.

Alice and Heather

How To Spot A BlogHer Newbie/Rookie

1. They* look remarkably like me.

2. No business cards.

3. They forget their ethernet cable and thus are not online most of the weekend.

4. Also, their laptop, while boasting a wireless card, does not boast a working battery, thus eliminating poolside wifi as an option.

5. Catch non-poolside-wifi conference attendee giggling to herself as she looks for patio outlets, in say, the nearby trees.

6. They aren’t wearing a name-tag, or carrying a goodie bag, because, well, sleep clearly takes precedence over the whole registration/packet pick-up part of the day. Besides, they have no idea where to go to get the packets, and when two different volunteers send them in two different directions, they sort of just give up the search. You know, hypothetically.**

7. They feel (generally overwhelmed, yes, and also) as if they have been run over by The Estrogen Train, and beaten repeatedly with the endless presence of boobs, by the end of Day One.

8. They fall into a sort of conversational coma by the start of Day Two.

9. No business cards.

10. They make (mostly unconscious) strange noises (all the time, but especially) when they meet Leah after knowing her for, say ten minutes, that they openly bring up their menstrual cycle. Again, hypothetically.**

13. You overhear them start an initial conversation with Amalah by saying something like, “My fiance designed your cherry!” ***

14. No business cards.

……………………….

* “They” in all cases meaning “me.”

** But not really hypothetically at all.

*** I really actually said that. But he really did. Design the cherry favicon for her site, that is.

Do A Big Sister A Favor?

Today is babycarrot sister’s 26th! Day of Cake. Being that my sister happens to be (awesome, yes! and) one of my favorite people on the planet, I think instead of being here, you should go here, and read all about what made her day great. (Seeing as how we’re all very visual learners around these parts, I will tell you that there are most definitely pictures. Of cake, even!)

You could even wish her a happy! birthday. You know, if you → Read more...

My Heart Is A Nautical-Themed Pashmina Afghan

We interrupt copious amounts of Asia recapping this broadcast for a maritime digression of sorts.

You see, I’ve been a lover of the ocean, and of all things aquatic and nautical-inspired, ever since I can remember.

My love for sea-faring-everything might very well have been fostered during the myriad spring breaks spent exploring quaint coastal communities in and around Port Ludlow, Washington. Some of my fondest childhood memories spring forth from days spent poking my curious face into every trinket shop in → Read more...

Paint By Numbers

Or, My Asian Adventure, Numerically Speaking.

1: Raw Ginseng root eaten after being offered by a kindly man with wrinkles showcasing his eyes at the Yangyang market. Also the number of photos I was asked to be in with total strangers (at the Forbidden City in Beijing).

6: Times I was asked to take pictures for total strangers.

2: Cups of mineral water I drank directly from a spring in the ground (in Osaek).

3: Flights (out of 5) wherein I had two (or → Read more...

Eggers-How We Are Hungry

I knew the Red Pyramid had just been reopened, or was about to be reopened, though I didn’t know why they called it Red. I wanted to ride on a horse through the desert. I wanted to see if this man–slight, with brown teeth, wide-set eyes, a cop mustache–would try to kill me. There were plenty of Egyptians who would love to kill me, I was sure, and I was ready to engage in any way with someone who wanted → Read more...