Yes. Finally. A wrap up to the BlogHer trip. Just what you stopped in to find. No? Okay, if not, you have my permission to be excused from today's discussion group and head straight to ebay, amazon.com or facebook. I will see you there in a few...
Sadly, what I cannot do is give details into my life on the third or fourth day in NYC. Even sadlier, I cannot remember them simply because I didn't take pictures to help jog my memory. I believe that is Step One into the dark tunnel of an aging brain. (Step Two is having pictures and still not being able to recall what went on. I'm hopeful I will be able to ad lib once that phase begins.) So what I've decided to do is give you the highlights in the form of conversations I remember. Pretend it's a play. And we're all very trendy with hair extensions and bronzer (why not go all out?).
Some time Saturday Late Afternoon-
Me: I don't know, Cris. I think I'm just going to stay back in the room and chill.
Cristie: Why don't you come with me? I'm heading to a gathering at this chic bar down the street. It's going to be very laid back with women drinking wine and chatting about books (Book Club, not Librarian Nation). You'll love it.
Me: Yeah? Wine and books? I will love this. Okay, I'm in.
And there we were, gorgeously dressed and perfectly accessorized Cristie with her long silky hair flowing down her back and me: 5 hour old ponytail and lips the color of the moon. And you know what? I never thought twice about it because she was so lovely in asking me along and so right about the meetup being mellow and relaxed. Nobody even noticed I had on a Linus shirt and flip flops. And if they did they were too classy to stare or ask me for another cosmopolitan with two olives, please.
I had a fabulous time meeting a real, live, sleepy (as in tired, not unfunny) comic, Karen Bergreen, who also authored Following Polly which is the book currently balancing on top of my tower of unfinished reads. I haven't yet started this one but just the fact that she's funny in real life makes me want to skip the last few chapters of Eat, Pray, Make me sick about Italy Already and dive into the murder mystery asap. I'll let you know how this turns out.
Evening of Day 3-
Later that night there were a few parties to attend. I changed out of my Peanuts ensemble and gussied up enough to hang with lots of shiny lipstick and clickety heels. I was feeling out of my element but happy to have one more jaunt out to be footloose and child free.
The first party had an excellent playlist that immediately got my roommates and me to the dance floor without much duress. Here we all swung our hips and did our best 1994 college girl hip hop. It was probably neither hip nor even close to hop but we had a great time pointing to the ceiling one second, then diving to the floor with our booty shaking the next.
Then this happened:
Me (to myself): You look ridiculous. Everyone's staring.
Myself (to me): Don't be dumb. Everyone's dancing. Nobody even notices you are off beat.
Me (to myself): You think? Okay. Let's continue. Shit. Wait. I forgot how to dance. I just now totally forgot what to do. Do we bend our knees or not? For the love of God, I just snapped my fingers. What do we do here, Self? Abort dancefloor? The Running Man? Scour through purse like phone is suddenly ringing? Help a mother out here!!
Myself (to me): You're a complete moron. Just relax. Breeeaathe. There. Better now? Hey, listen, It's Alicia Keys!! You don't even have to dance to this song. You just have to rock back and forth with a tough look on your face. No, not like that. You look like you have to poop, try something else. Really? That's what you come up with? Freaking the camera man? Great, now suddenly you are Miss Life of the Party, Look at Me, I'm Not Afraid to Dance in Public! I can't handle all this posing.
Me: waaaaaaaaaaaiiiit! don't goooooooooo!
Myself: Can we please go to the restroom to regroup and eavesdrop on all the cool girls now?
Me: Have mercy, I thought you'd never ask. Was that my phone?
The End. Of the conversation. Of the night. Of the BlogHer recaps. Thanks for reading and from now on I will not speak of BlogHer or The Running Man as long as we both shall live. Amen.