Okay so I got into Chicago on Wednesday night, which involved an accidental sub-street level trek with Grace Davis. I was a bit grimy from walking underneath the road, so a quick ho bath was in order before I could come down and meet my peeps at the bar. There was a lot of excited drinking and hugging and love of the breasts, because that's how I do. Then I smoked WAY TOO MANY CIGARETTES for someone who doesn't smoke. Mr. Lady is bad fucking influence. Shenanigans. Serious fucking shenanigans.
I ended up spooning with Maria and doing a walk of shame the next morning, complete with walking barefoot through the lobby at 8 am, which is extra awesome when all these people in full CUTE mode are starting their days and filling it with cuteness. I'm still drunk motherfuckers.
Thursday I technically didn't have plans, so there were all sorts of THINGS I could have done. Like leave the hotel for instance. What I actually did do was participate in the Great Room 704 Swag Bag Assembly Line, staged in Queen of Spain's room. Holy holy, I was blown away by how quickly and efficiently this logistical STUFF nightmare got knocked out.
After that I sort of casually strolled into the BlogHer Business cocktail party, on the assurances of the people there who said I could. Went upstairs for 27 seconds, before I walked over to the Social Luxe party, based on the I HAVE TO GO pleas of Miss Jodi. Then she wouldn't stop apologizing for 'dragging' Laurin and I along, even though I kept telling her that she didn't need to apologize. Jodi babe? No need.
From Luxe to The People's Party, which was utter madness. I can't remember who I saw where, but I do remember that I didn't find Jenny even though I specifically looked for her in the bathroom. And Nakedjen got naked. Because she's Nakedjen.
From The People's Party to the hard crazy crush of the Room 704 party, which I only ever-so-vaguely recall. I'm waiting for the pictures to pop on Flickr to help me piece the night together. I do remember that I got to hug Heather, which was warm fuzzies of goodness.
Miraculously (especially considering I'm on California time) I got my ass out of bed in time for breakfast the next morning. Friday also marked the first day of my daytime shoe boycott. I was dressed all fancy in my Banana Republic dress, but, y'know, barefoot. Women would smile knowingly and ask if I'd had to ditch the uncomfortable shoes. Well. No. I mean, they're in my room, but I also have flip flops in the room, so. This is also the official reason that I didn't leave the hotel. Shoes. Other than the slightly sticky escalator, and the very real possibility that I walked in pee when I used the bathroom, I wasn't particularly bothered.
I was mysteriously on the list of invitees for the Green Works Luncheon, where we served tasty vegan food and given the opportunity to pick the brains of the Green Works folks. I have NO idea how I got on that list, since it seemed to me that everyone else in the room was either well-known, or writing a specifically eco-conscious blog, or both. And me! Hi guys! Thanks for having me! Green = Good! Anyhow, the Clorox Green Works people were lovely, and the food was delicious. Everyone else was wearing shoes.
I was the liveblogger for the Brands & Business panel, which I thought was actually quite impressively done (the panel not the liveblogging), though a lot of it was reiteration for me. I do recommend checking out the liveblog if you're looking for information on working with brands. Everyone else was wearing shoes.
Next I liveblogged the Mommyblogging/Microblogging panel. Erin was wearing a very fancy outfit, and was simultaneously twittering on two devices AND acting as panel moderator, which was quite impressive. I had a couple of things I wanted to say, but I was trying to type, and of course now I don't remember what I wanted to say in the first place, because my brain is little more than a fancy sieve. Everyone else was in shoes, and Erin's were clear!
Up in Room 704 (okay it was a different room number, whatevs), I mixed vanilla vodka and chambord together in an empty Starbuck's cup with amazing results. Jenny the Bloggess dubbed it the Unicorn Period, and it was pretty much MADE OF MAGIC. I'm pretty sure that's what unicorn periods actually taste like. The community keynote made me snot and cry like a snotty crying baby (look it up on youtube), so afterwards I had to go wipe off the ugly and lie face down on my bed for awhile.
I'm certain I took two showers while I was in Chicago. But I'm not certain when.
Friday night I wore the crazy backless dress and tried to remember to suck in my gut. There was a brief stop into the official cocktail party before I went to Nikon. IN A LIMO (life list people, life list). At the Nikon party Jenny tried to convince Carson Kressley she was a drag queen named Honey so she could seduce him, but he was totally onto her. Also he looked like he was made of plasticine. Also we were on the river and this boat of cute boys tried to scale the wall but the bar said no. Also all of the drinks tasted like fairy dust and magic. Also I licked Jenny's breast, and I'm pretty sure that means she's pregnant or something, because things work differently in the midwest. Although if she's pregnant, than there are some other people who might be pissed, because I was doing a fair amount of breast licking. That's just how I roll.
Then back to the hotel where I went to MamaPop, and I was seriously wastyface. I drank whiskey, people. On the one hand I was obnoxious and
SATURDAY hangover city. Liveblogged the homeschooling jobbyjob. Then I told Mr. Of Spain that he had to come down to the lobby and hang out with me. And we played with a coffee table for 3 hours. Literally. Three hours. Undomestic Diva talked about going to the Married with Children Fountain, went, came back, showed us pictures, left, and we were still playing with a coffee table. Then we played with it too much and it broke and then I realized I only had five minutes to get to the panel on the BlogHer Ads network.
I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling for awhile, took a shot of limoncello for Holly, maybe showered? I know that I showered twice on this trip, because I remember both as magical rejuvenating showers of awesomesauce, but I can't seem to place when these jesus showers might have occurred. Anyhow then I went up and gave VDog a little backrub, and ate approximately 47 taquitos while curing my hangover with drunkenness (works every time). Once again vanilla vodka (by the way Dawn I think the next time I see you I owe approximately 27 vanilla vodka + ? = magic cocktails), this time mixed sparingly with some weird swag beverage that was mostly water. On account of the drinking and the hangover and the fact that the beds at the Sheraton are like evil suction cup beds of pillowy softness that trap you in their folds for hours at a time, it took a longass time to get to BowlHer, where my boa was a circle.
Lamely attempted to go to CheeseburgHer, but it was VERY crowded and smelling of hot meat, and I ran into Jenny in the hallway yelling about giant vaginas, and then Aaron told me he was on a magical walk outside, but not so far outside that I'd have to put my shoes back on. But I couldn't find the doors. The approximately 10 doors to outside. So he had to come get us. Although in my defense Jenny wasn't doing much better. I kept pouring liquor from my bottomless flask but not any kind of mixer into Jenny's bottle of something pink and I'm telling you what. VANILLA VODKA IS THE NECTAR OF THE GODS. Tanis had just been devirginized in the best possible way, so then we went back up to their room to celebrate BlowHer, which was hands down the best party of the entire weekend, except that Undomestic Diva wound up in Detroit, possibly pregnant. The password was pussy, and the swag was Mexican diet pills. If you don't want them because they're Mexican you're a racist. Much like the unicorn's butt cheek, BlowHer was like childhood on a stick with dick inside you in a good way (credit for that genius to Sarah Dopp, who is my new girl crush. You can also credit her for the pop rocks).
I finally got Loralee to follow me back on twitter by holding her bra hostage. It worked.
P.S. I wore shoes all day Wednesday and Thursday, and for all of the parties but BlowHer, which was shoe-optional. Maybe it was even clothing optional?
P.P.S. All of my photos are here. Except some boob ones that I'm holding back for Boob Emancipation.
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