Let me make you feel better about BlogHer

If you didn't start planning for everything, shopping for a fabulous wardrobe and RSVPing for parties a month ago, you're going to have a shitty time.

KIDDING.

Want a confidence boost? Here's one. I'll be there, so you will always be within a few hotel floors of someone geekier, awkwarder, less fashion savvy and more likely to embarrass themselves than you. As they say in the blogosphere: You. Are. Welcome.

Let me do what every other BlogHer attendee has already done (but better): break down a few of the more common fears for you and put them in perspective through the lens of my ineptitude.

1) You don't have an iphone/ipad/iMOSTFABULOUSTINYELECTRONICPRODUCTEVER. Your laptop is a dinosaur and/or you don't have a laptop. What in the hell are you doing at a social media conference? How will you know what is going on if you can't check twitter 8000 times a day?

Rest easy. I have a prepaid cell phone. I shit you not. I can only get so many texts before it exceeds its limit and its little brain explodes. My laptop is huge, like, used-to-plot-the-landing-of-Apollo-14 huge. Seriously. I'm glad this conference isn't in D.C. because some wandering secret service type person would be like "HEY! LADY! STOP RIGHT THERE! Did you steal that computer from the Air & Space Museum? Don't even lie." It's not a pretty color either. Nothing like Marinka's cute little pink flowered iWHATEVER. Which I covet. Mine is a color I like to call, smeary fingerprinted black ala unidentified crusty stuff.

2) People are talking about a thousand parties you've never heard of and you haven't been invited to any private parties or events.

Me either, not a single solitary one. Maybe that doesn't make you feel better because it just means we're both unhappening? Okay, AND I'm stuck, (I mean I'm thrilled beyond belief), to be spending the evenings in the company of the lovely BabyNater. So, please, text me on my crappy phone if you are feeling/tired/lonely/sad and come and sit with me in the hallway outside of my hotel room while he sleeps. I know. I am a freaking party a minute.

3) You don't have cool shoes (clothes/bag/insert anything here).

I haven't bought any shoes in seven years. I KID YOU NOT. Last year, I was all, meh, these people have never met me before, strappy sandals are strappy sandals, I'll wear the same damn neutral strappy sandals I've been wearing on my two night's out a year for a decade. This year I'm all, I could buy some new strappy sandals. I even went to Nordstrom's annual sale. But then, I realized that I hadn't bought a bra in five years and well, three kids in five years, ladies, the girls have changed a tad. I dragged my sad ass to lingerie where I met a delightful lady who measured me and then smiled, a bit condescendingly to my mind, and said, "oh my, we have changed, haven't we. You're a 32AA." I'm all DOES THAT EVEN EXIST OUTSIDE OF A JUDY BLUME STORY? OMIFUCKINGGOD. THEN. Then. She left to find me some bras and I glanced at my five-year-old significantly padded bra and saw 32 C and I thought, wishful thinking much? I bought it while I was nursing Gee, which is like the only time in my life that I even HAD bo.obs and I still even wasn't a 32 C in my dreams. Then. THEN. She came back all perky and chirpy with "some sweet little bras for me to try." A few minutes later again, with more "sweet little bras." And then one more time! Until I turned to my sister and said, "if she uses the adjectives "sweet" and "little" one more time in reference to the undergarment for which to contain my womanly bosoms, I shall SMACK her." Dee helped me pick out three sweet little bras and we left before I committed murder in a Nordstrom dressing room, which I am certain is frowned upon, although sweet little bras would make a very bold statement if used to strangle an obnoxious bra saleswoman. No?

Where was I? BlogHer? Shoes? Wha? See. I'm crazy. You'll be fine in whatever shoes you wear. I'll be in seven-year-old shoes and brand new sweet little bras. (Well, not only seven-year-old shoes and sweet little bras, although that would make a stir.)

4) You wish you could lose five pounds/ten pounds/xx pounds. Look. This is serious. You're beautiful. I've been trying to gain five pounds for four months now and failing and I know, I know, poor me, but here's the thing. I'm thin. I've always been thin, I don't have to work hard to be thin and it's nice. But. I still manage to be hellishly insecure about my looks. My complexion sucks. I'm almost forty and I have zits, like the real deal, not "oh no, a pimple before I leave for NYC." I don't know how to do my hair. Truth. I'll have it done before I leave and it will look pretty darn fabulous until like wind or humidity or an airplane seat or grubby baby hands touch it and then it will look progressively shittier and shittier until I give up and put it up in an ugly pony tail. So, you know, I've got about an hour of fabulous, which will be completely wasted on the small Border of Idaho airport from which I will be departing.

5) You hate making small talk/walking into huge events alone. Me too. The whole entire world hates this. I swear it. (Or maybe you love it and then you rock, but I hate it, and so I assume that the entire world is just like me thereby making myself feel normal and mainstreamish. It's a neat trick, try it sometime.) BlogHer tip: Make smaller things happen with the people you most want to see and talk to. That makes the weekend really fun. And. If all else fails. Recall me in the hall outside my hotel room while the baby sleeps? Come and see me. Please?

6) Everyone else in the BlogHer universe is presenting/speaking/hosting an awesome party/so much more involved and kick ass than me and I'm just going. Nah. I'm not. I'm just going too. There are 1500 people going, so a lot of us are just going. Be glad because you will get to enjoy every second and not die of fear. Also, let's all get behind some of my favorite bloggers who ARE speaking. Marinka. Amy. Maggie Dammit. Ohmommy. Ryan. Jessica. The Bloggess. The list is endless.

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If you're curious, and because Amy about blew me away with her color-coded schedule fabulousness, here's my not-to-be-missed list.

Thursday - People's Party, although, I'll most likely be sitting outside my hotel room door, see above, please visit me.

Friday - 7:00 Starbucks/Zabar's (Bagels. Lox. Real ones. Made by Jews. It's like a religious experience.
10:45 Maggie's session
1:15 Mouthy Housewives' session
4:30 Community keynote - DO NOT MISS THIS, IT IS SO GOOD.
6-10 Kirtsy art auction/voices of the year (More on this in a separate post! Fabulousness! Also, one of my posts is included, which makes me blush with pleasure. Robin's art will be there. There's more. Soon!)
7-10 Mouthy Housewives cocktail party AND Aiming Low party. Huge dilemma. Except that I'll be sitting outside my hotel room in the hall while Nate sleeps. Sigh.

Saturday - 7:00 Starbucks/Zabar's (Bagels. Lox. Redux. I can not wait.)
10:30 Amy, Ryan and Pauline's session
7-10 Sparklecorn party. Except that I'll be sitting outside my hotel room in the hall while Nate sleeps. Sigh.

I'm not linking to any of that today because I am hellishly lazy. But. Any time I'm not actually trying to get Nate to sleep in the evening, I'll probably be in the Serenity Suite (see cool button above). I am not kidding around about the hanging out in the hall thing either. If we haven't exchanged cell phone numbers and you're interested, email me!