The weekend

I could write a big post about BlogHer and my experience there, but it's been talked about practically to death by everyone else. And by everyone, I mean the entire population of the Internet. Seriously, everyone went and everybody bitched about a baby getting elbowed in the head in a rush for swag bags and everybody talked about how commercial blogging has become and everyone got drunk. Except me because I am pregnant, wah.

My experience can be summed up like this: I spent a weekend with some really amazing women and had a ton of fun. We gossiped and went out to eat and shopped and got mani/pedis and went to parties and attended a few panels. This was a pretend "weekend away" for me, since it was held in Chicago, so Josh took over child duty and I got to sleep in and come and go as I pleased. I stayed out late every night and had fun. Exactly what I wanted it to be.

As for the conference itself, the humor panel kicked all kinds of ass. It consisted of Anna from Life Just Keeps Getting Weirder, Deb from Deb on the Rocks, Jenny from The Bloggess, Jessica from Bernthis, Kelcey from The Mama Bird Diaries and Wendi from Wendi Aarons. I didn't read these women before (except for The Bloggess) but after almost peeing my pants over the things they said, I certainly am now. And you should be, too. They inspired me to be funnier and even more of a smartass. So really, all of you readers will be the beneficiaries of my BlogHer weekend.

Then I came home and realized hanging out with 1,400 women from various parts of the country was a really stupid idea because ohmygod, the germs. I have no immunity from the Atlanta germs. Or the Austin germs (and sweet bitty, is every blogger from freaking Austin or does it just seem that way?). Or the Calee-fornia germs. And you know what all those people probably had lurking in the recesses of their hand wrinkles? I'll tell you. Swine flu. And you know, "the pregnant" is a risk factor in swine flu death. So I'll probably die in the next two weeks thanks to some random person who handed me her business card right after she licked it.

In the meantime I do have a sore throat and I am trying to not Google the shit out of early swine flu symptoms. I am sure this sore throat has nothing to do with the fact I was out late, screaming at the top of my lungs to be heard over all the other screaming women within a five-foot radius. Or that I caught a chill in the midnight air on Poppy's rooftop deck. Or that I coated my throat in liquid chocolate at the Mommy Needs a Cocktail party. Nope. It's clearly swine flu. It was nice knowing all of you.