Sunday, September 26, 2010

The Trip That Ate New York! PART THREE

Yes, I'm still going on about this trip.
At some point I decided to declare it happy hour at 4 p.m. and gathered a handful of folks in the hotel bar. In my head, the bar was going to be chic and metro and on a high level overlooking Manhattan. In reality, the bar was off the lobby on the ground floor, and had a great view of an alley jammed with parked trucks. It had no more than one server at any given time, and every server seemed to hate our group.

To the bar's credit, though, they did offer BlogHer specials the whole weekend:

Did I take a picture of my child at BlogHer? No. But I took pictures of the drink menu at the lobby bar. I AM AN AWESOME MOM!

As some of you may know, Queen of Spain was unable to attend this year's conference, and this was awful and horrible and stupid on many levels. But if anyone was there in spirit, she was.

Well, and then she was there in stuck-to-sticks spirit.


And then CalifMom brought it to a whole new (lower) level, as only she can. And in such a way that we know Erin would appreciate.



900 more things happened at the conference, most of which have blurred together in my head.

I know that on Friday night, we had to rush from one event in order to get to the AOL party, and the ENTIRE reason we had to get to the AOL party was so that we (Ish and I) could meet Chef Marcus Samuelsson, guest/celeb at the event. Ish wore his crazy pants in honor of meeting him.

 (Photo obviously not taken in Manhattan,
but the pants deserve to be showcased as often as possible.)

So that was awesome.

And then I met a few awesome bloggers and had a ton of watered-down drinks and then all of a sudden we were with a group of people eating Korean food.

On Saturday, it was more of the same GO GO GO GO GO. Starting with a client-sponsored breakfast at 7 a.m., and ending with a change of clothes and Ish, the Clever Girls and I heading to the "old school" Mighty Meet-Up, hosted by Maggie Mason.

(For the record: this was not a fancy, invite-only type deal. This was a "Hey. We're hanging at a bar with not a single sponsor in sight" type deal. And it was great)

And then everyone left to go do other things, and I hung back because I -- YOU GUESSED IT -- had to go to the bathroom.

You can imagine my surprise when I entered the ladies room at the end of the party and found the hostess, among others, costuming themselves as KISS and um?


The Bloggess taking a photo of herself with a drink in the bathroom.
You know. As she does.
Calling card.
Wrapped in plastic so as not to smudge? I'm guessing yes.

The group.

On the street.

And then one of those crazy things happened. Crazier than being in the bathroom while Mighty Girl puts on KISS makeup and The Bloggess takes pictures of it.

We all have our blog idols, right?

I mean, sure, there's Dan and Brooke. And of course, there's Dooce. But like, well, okay. Back in 2006 in San Jose at my first BlogHer, I attended the "Mommyblogging Is A Radical Act" session, because it fascinated me and I didn't know anything about it, other than that mommyblogging was becoming a "term" people had begun to use.

One of the panelists was Alice of Finslippy.  And I will tell you something. I didn't know anyone could be THAT funny or THAT witty in person, just off-the-cuff.

Razor-sharp. Poignant. And so. Fucking. Funny. I was absolutely awed by her.

If you've never read her, go do that.  It's the kind of thing I don't bring up on my blog because saying something like "Alice is a good blogger, I'm a fan of hers" is really like saying, "You know who's an attractive actor? Brad Pitt." 

(I mention Heather/Dooce a lot because I know many of you read her regularly and she's a point of reference.)

But right. I know a lot about blogging and writing and "the industry" and if push came to shove, Alice is probably the only person/blogger/writer I'd be humbled to meet.

Was humbled to meet.

Ish and Alice.

But I didn't just get to meet her.

A small group of us happened to form outside the meet-up, those of us who were fascinated by the KISS situation, but not ready to join in the festivities. So as the Mighty KISS group left to storm Times Square, our ad-hoc group decided to find a place to get something to eat.

And because I don't actually know what anyone looks like, it took me until we were all seated to realize who I was in the company of. Essentially, I was surrounded by Blogging Greats, and I didn't even know it.


Because here we have Holly of Nothing But Bonfires and her husband, Sean.  It turns out, Ish and I have a scary amount in common with this couple, but I would never know that because I don't assume I have anything in common with BRILLIANT, BEAUTIFUL, FAMOUS BLOGGERS.

My pictures are so bad I should be arrested. Seriously. 
*Also? Can I be proud for one second? Holly actually knew who I was/knew about this blog. I found this both shocking and totally relieving because, up until this point, I had felt a little like Jane Goodall.

Amber (of The Amber Show) and her husband, Rob.
Fearless leaders in the hunt for awesome NY pizza.
Also, blog rockstars.

And then came my favorite moment of the night, possibly of the entire weekend. Even better than when I unintentionally insulted The Pioneer Woman.

On the left, we have adorable Alice. On the right we have -- do you know? Can you guess? Because it's 100% obvious and amazing if you know anything about the blogging world WHICH I SWEAR I DO. But I just didn't put two and two together and so I asked the woman on the right, perfectly stupidly, "So, what is the name of your blog?"

Which, to further the metaphor above, is a little like asking Brad Pitt, "So, what do you do?"

I guess I recovered somewhat. I mean, I didn't actually fall out of my chair when she replied, "Oh, uh, it's called 'Fussy'." But still.


And then when all that was over, we wandered on back to the hotel and I had a lovely chat with Fussy and then it was time for CheezburgHer and crazy, awesome dancing and at some point we ended up back in our hotel room and collapsed.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

The Trip That Ate New York! PART TWO

So then about 900 million things happened at BlogHer. Yes, I'm still talking about BlogHer. Shutup. I've been busy.

Oh, but um? Let's try to do this in order with my famously artistic photos, shall we? OOH! And since we're at it, let's make this a totally random numbered list.  Anyone wanna guess how many numbers will be in this list? (Me, neither.)

1. I get on the plane and HOLY HELL.

That picture there? It's of the SLACK in my seatbelt. Did you know that the last time I flew I basically had like, NO slack? It wasn't quite "close" -- I mean, I could always get the belt buckled, but I didn't exactly have a lot of extra room to play around.

It was a little scary, because I would always think back to a trip to Florida I once took with my best friend when we were little. A woman shared a seat in our row with us, and she couldn't fit in the standard belt; she had to be given an extension. She was horrified, we were horrified. It was awful, and uncomfortable, and she seemed miserable throughout the trip.

I never want to be that woman. Or Kevin Smith.

So, anyway, this absolutely astounded me. I had no idea I'd lost so many inches. That's all Medifast.

2. I get a little drunk on the plane.

FIRST of all, I am a crappy flyer. Flier? Flyer. Whatever. I don't like to do it. For the longest time, I thought that drinking would make my plane fears worse, and so I avoided any medication at all.

Then on a business trip a few years ago, my end-of-day flight was delayed for a few HOURS, and I was alone in the airport, and I decided to have some wine.

That was the best flight EVER.

So now I drink unashamedly on the plane and everyone is happier for it. Especially after United promises the three of us an upgrade and then, instead of upgrading us, cancels our seats entirely. (LET US NOT EVEN HAVE THIS CONVERSATION.)

All you need to know is that I managed, finally, to get my ass to the Buena Vista at SFO and down a couple of these puppies:

So that once Eve, Ish and I got on the plane with the other Clever Girls, I was all WHATEVER FIRST CLASS? WHO NEEDS YOU?  Plus, I had the cutest traveling companion in the world.

So sure. About halfway through the flight, I had to stop sending work emails (plane + wifi = AWESOME) because I was feeling too silly. But I did reply to an email to Brooke (of Dan and Brooke) saying that yes, we were still planning to meet them. It read something (exactly) like this:

Hi. I'm not the best flyer/flier? (how the fuck do you spell that? I do not mean to suggest I'm a piece of paper stapled to a telephone pole...) in the world and so I may have had a few gin and sodas and it's what? 12:45 p.m. and I'm on an airplane. With a baby. Apologies.

Of course we're still on! I BLOGGED that I'd be meeting you. (Also? At least two people wrote me and said that of all the impressive things I've done in my life, meeting you and Dan is the MOST impressive. I just want you to understand that means you beat out my "getting on with my life" after my mother AND THEN father died of cancer. CONGRATULATIONS.)

(Also-also? I really do think that's hilarious.)

(Most people have shitty senses of humor.)

(I should not reply to emails on planes maybe ever.)

We'll see you tomorrow! And I won't bring up cancer!

3. Much other stuff happens once we arrive in New York and go to a great dinner and then have an important work meeting, but at the end of the day, I meet Ish and Brooke and Dan for drinks.

We have a great time. I get mad that my husband made very special dinner reservations for us for our five-year anniversary because, even though I love him and New York and Mario Batali, Dan and Brooke are every bit as much fun in person as you'd think.

Even if my iPhone pictures suck.

We try to convince them to move to Napa. I'm not sure it worked.

And in the end, dinner at Del Posto was great. Yes, five years since Ish and I met. CRAZY.

4. Thursday happens, along with ninety billion pre-BlogHer parties, including 898 billion that I'm not invited to because even though everyone sort-of knows me, I'm on precisely zero "lists."

But I did get to go to Social Luxe Lounge! Not because I'm famous or special or RSVP'd in time, but because one of our clients was a sponsor. So I was there, yes. But I was working. JUST LIKE OLD TIMES!

This is what it looked like before 300 people filled up the space and I was suddenly surrounded by famous bloggers (and their handsome, freshly tattooed boyfriends) in fancier dresses and spikier heels than I could pull off.

When I did get a chance to get a cocktail and wander for a few minutes, I took the opportunity to introduce myself to Sundry, who had absolutely no idea who I was. Awesome. Then I tried to be funny when chatting with Ree, relating our only shared anecdote (about the FIRST time I met her, at BlogHer '07), except it came out a thousand percent wrong and horribly.

I won't be waiting for her call.

5. The actual conference starts and I kick it off with a makeover, thanks to P&G!

So, okay. Forgetting that it's New York AND that it's not even 10 in the morning, I tell the makeup artist to GO CRAZY and do WHATEVER she wants!

This starts off just fine.

But, as happens I guess, my eyes get a little dramatic.

Paired with my cute CAbi skirt and t-shirt...

...I officially look like a Preppy Hooker.  Perfect!

 Next up? Queen of Spain crotch shots! Because we are classy Preppy Hookers.

Saturday, September 11, 2010


Then and always.

My only 9/11 post, about my best friend's wedding. It took place 3 weeks after the sky fell, in New York.