#BlogHer09

I was sitting at my desk yesterday wondering when I was going to actually attempt to recap last week’s trip to Chicago and St. Louis when (the perfect story-telling gimmick, which I’ll call) the answer suddenly dawned on me. “I know!” I said to myself, “I’ll use hyperbolic newspaper headlines as recap topics!”

And thus (you all ran for your lives, and) this post was born:

“SHERATON LOBBY TURNS INTO A PETTING ZOO OF SORTS AS BLOGGERS FROM ALL OVER THE COUNTRY DESCEND UPON CHICAGO.”

The first ten minutes I was in the lobby I saw a nipple. It wasn’t mine, and I don’t think it was yours either, but it was someone’s and it was so completely (hilarious, and) perfect, that I had to stop myself from gasping aloud. It was as if the lobby itself was attempting to assert, lest there be any confusion, that I was at BlogHer, and, as I would quickly remember, breastfeeding boobs come standard.

As Carrisa and I laughed and talked about everything and nothing with Neil, I watched myriad women forgo the direction they were originally headed to beeline for a woman/man/herd of both they hadn’t seen in a year or more, and the squealing and hugging and hair stroking and laughing filled the Sheraton lobby full to the brim with a happy mix of elation and awkwardness.

Speaking of awkward, before I had been in Chicago for two hours I also raced up to Chris Jordan after happily exclaiming “ALI!” and hugged her so fast I think she was still trying to figure out if I was friend or foe, and did I plan on addressing everyone by made-up names the entire conference? (In my defense, I have always thought Ali and Chris look a bit alike, you know, before Ali recently dyed her hair brown, and Chris was standing next to Heather B. at the time, which further made me think “Oh, hey! Ali!” Also: I HAD BEEN UP SINCE 3AM.)

“CUSSING AT VOLUNTEERS? WHY SOME BLOGGERS NEED A REMEDIAL COURSE ON CONFERENCE-ATTENDING MANNERS.”

This year I worked the registration desk with Rhi, and she quite literally saved my sanity. Sitting next to her while we handed out BlogHer swag bag after BlogHer swag bag was beyond entertaining, and when the swag bags disappeared she kept me from being potentially sued, because I wanted to slap a few faces. Namely the ones that said things like, “That’s not very organized, ladies” in condescending tones, or “That’s fucking bullshit” at a more angry decibel (direct quotes, both of those), after we very nicely tried to explain that the bags were gone, we’re sorry! Oh, and also: we don’t work for BlogHer, so please talk to them if you need to air a grievance about missing out on your Mrs. PotatoHead.

“WORDS FROM AN ONLINE COMMUNITY INSPIRE THOUSANDS.”

This year’s Community Keynote was by far my favorite part of the two-day conference agenda, and getting to hear such strong, talented and hilarious women read their own words aloud was beyond inspiring. I was doing just fine until Grace walked up to the stage and began reading, after which I stopped trying to dam the flood of tears that had been just waiting for ample opportunity to soak my cheeks and shirt. (Thankfully our table-mates brought Kleenex, and thus, saved the day from mascara-induced raccoon eyes: Macaroon Eyes, if you will.)

You can find all of this year’s chosen keynote entries here.

“BLOGGER SUFFOCATES DURING CARRIAGE RIDE AT CHICAGO CONFERENCE.”

The Nintendo Party hosted off-site by Brand About Town was one of my personal highlights from the weekend, and not just because I got to spend more time with Sizzle, Metalia, Ali and Heather B.

Already quite smitten with Chicago, I was thrilled to be able to ride (in a horse-drawn carriage!) from the hotel to the Hancock Building, where we were able to mingle and eat dinner while enjoying a spectacular view. (Also: I got to finally meet Zan!)

So, you’re probably wondering where the suffocating part comes in, if the party was all fantastico and such. Right! Well, it was raining on the way home, and so our carriages were now covered, and basically I was laughing so hard the entire ride home that I nearly stopped breathing. Kim and Sizzle may or may not have had to stop me from literally jumping out everytime the carriage stopped for a moment.

Humid air inside a carriage does not good breathing make. Still: incredibly fun, but I think I’ve asserted that. Moving right along then…

“TOURISTS FLOCK TO NAVY PIER FOR SOME HOT FERRIS WHEEL ACTION.”

Me? I’m that girl who loves to be a tourist in her own city. So, naturally, I love to be a tourist in a city that is most definitely not mine. Thankfully Kali and Sizzle like to play dress-up tourist sometimes, too.

(We ran into (my BlogHer ’08 roomie!) Sarah & Co. on our Navy Pier Adventure.)

“(WO)MAN CANNOT LIVE ON FRIED WONTONS ALONE.”

Having had enough (mostly fried) appetizers for one weekend, Sizzle, Rhi, Carissa, Kali and I decided to head off-site for dinner at Quartino Saturday night, which was a recommendation from Rhi’s #1 guy, Bill.  It was, in a word: amazing. In more words it was: the best dinner I’ve had in months; laden with laughter and ridiculous tweeting; exactly what I needed; SO much fun.

“MCDONALD’S BAGS SERVE MANY PURPOSES, CONFERENCE ATTENDEES CLAIM.”

This year’s CheeseburgHer party was…surprising. Mostly because (who knew presidential sweets went on for days? and also) I had no idea what to do with myself when the party wasn’t broken up ten minutes after I arrived. Thankfully I’m nothing if not quick on my feet, and so I did what most everyone seemed to be doing: I grabbed a glass of wine and proceeded to take pictures of cheerful cheeseburgHers and Hims while a paper bag rested happily atop my own head.

Exhibit: my roomies! Angella and Sizzle. Awesome and inspiring women, both. (I’ll stop there, lest I go on for days about how much I love these two ladies.)

“IN HER DARKEST HOUR, ONE WOMAN FINDS TRUE FRIENDSHIP, HOPE, AUTO-TUNE THE NEWS.”

Tying up any proverbial loose ends, with bullet-points, as it were:

• I had (so much) fun, both in Chicago and then in St. Louis with Jen! (and Sam!) and myriad awesome Derby Girls.

• Was I impressed with the overall organization of the conference? No. Do I think BlogHer has the opportunity to do a lot of things better next year? You bet I do. (i.e. Putting VOLUNTEEER on the volunteer badges instead of STAFF, and STAFF on the actual badges of those members who are PAID by BlogHer to attend and help at the conference; not dumping the BlogHer swag bags into huge boxes UPSIDE DOWN, so that the volunteers have to physically wrestle with them before greeting a swarming mass of attendees who want their Mrs. PotatoHeads; doing a better job knowing where certain BlogHer-related events are, and even non-BlogHer related events (if promoted by the schedule; bottom line: if it’s on the BlogHer schedule, everyone at BlogHer should know where to find it. Otherwise, leave it off the schedule.); feeding your attendees something other than the same mostly fried appetizers two nights in a row.)

• I enjoyed meeting you (and you, and yes, you, too).

• I have some of the most amazing, intelligent, hilarious and loyal friends in all the land, and that makes me beyond grateful/happy/sappy.

• I am in deep smit with Chicago after this last trip and would have proposed to St. Louis were it not for the LIFE-ENDING HUMIDITY. (The humidity was (only! ONLY?) 48% if you were wondering, and yes: I am a humidity W-I-M-P. “I’m from the desert!” I may or may not have exclaimed to Jen after Day 1 of The Glistening Sweat.)

• I am already beyond excited to see so many of your smiling faces (with bodies hopefully attached) next year in New York, and to meet those of you I have not yet said “Hello!” to.

Some more of my favorite shots from the trip:

The entire Flickr set is here.

Merry Mélange

It was here, while waiting for my brother, that I started this story, although, of course, at the time I did not know that stories of life are often more like rivers than books. But I knew a story had begun, perhaps long ago near the sound of water. And I sensed that ahead I would meet something that would never erode so there would be a sharp turn, deep circles, a deposit, and quietness.

-from A River Runs Through It → Read more...

Back Diving

I posted a picture of him for a silly Instagram-related game and found him waiting for me in my dreams, something which occurs so rarely it still explodes solidly-constructed dams inside me each time I see his face, mustached and smiling at mine just the way he always did, just the way I always remember him. As usual he didn’t say much, not anything I could hear or remember, but he was there and I knew it, and when I → Read more...

Hiking Into Green Valleys

I have words washed out to sea. Words ushered quietly from my lips to my fingertips, waiting patiently for the right tide, for the moon to bring my stories alive.

I have words being reviewed, words accepted and words rejected, and I’m clinging to my favorite lines, fighting for them, and it feels strange and new and exhilaratingly infuriating, this tug-of-war of wills and how the slightest bit of caving can make me feel like I’m flirting with abandoning the sanctity → Read more...

Rivers And Roads

[Alternately titled: Story, The Second: The Girl Who Moved To Washington State]

It began simply. A direct message on Twitter first, followed by texts; those texts, in turn, begat plans. With those plans came anxiety and apprehension – I didn’t know you, not your face or your voice or anything else, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to – but also something exciting, a strange and unexpected hope hovering quietly on the horizon. And then we met, conversed and laughed → Read more...