Wishy Washy

So, here is the post that I tell the world that Yes, I think I am going to BlogHer this year. The first time since the fiasco of 07, which has been recorded here in the annals of the blog, not to mention seared into the minds of all who witnessed my spectacular crash, immolation and withdrawal from the world at large for a solid year.

I bought the ticket quite a while ago, but simply never mentioned it. I wasn't so sure I would feel like going, and I didn't know where I would be in my writing - either the blog OR the dissertation. Since I can't handle any kind of external expectation weighing on me as I already have strapped myself to a metric ton of concrete and thrown myself from the highest bridge available, I figured the less said, the better.

So imagine my own surprise when I decided this weekend - Yes. I think I want to go. I think I am ready. The armor is thick enough and I have withdrawn from the things that troubled me so about my last go-round at BlogHer.

I decided a while ago that I don't need to be a brand, and while I love to have my writing validated...being pleased with the act of writing has overwhelmed the need to be the clown. The granite mountain that is my occasional writers block allows me to truly take pleasure when the words come easily.

I may never be published in a non-academic arena. I may never be syndicated, or have articles quote me about the state of the Mommy Blog (which, lets face it, I barely fit into at the best of times). I am, however, a storyteller. I tell my stories to you. All of you out there. And while I have no real way to know if there are hundreds or five of you, I know you like the stories and I like telling them, so there it is. If not for you, the stories would remain written, in my head, zooming and zinging around with the million other bits of fact, trivia and general junk drawer of a brain I possess.

The problem now becomes Where to Stay. I went on the BlogHer Conference room mate board, with no luck to date. One pair might have had a space, but it fell through, so I am back to square one.

Sigh.

This was after I had mentally prepared myself for maybe having to stay with a STRANGER!! (cue the running around flapping) and then worrying that I should Prepare the possible stranger for me...and what did that entail, exactly. I mean, I didn't want someone to have to room with me and think "Jesus Fuck, what did I get myself into here?" So I began to think of myself as a room mate personal ad - something on Craigslist:

Low maintenance smartass needs bed from Thursday to Sunday morning. Incredibly shy and quiet before liquor is introduced...then, oh dear. Quite a potty mouth. May drink a bit too much, especially on the first night ( Mostly because she is so nervous and forcing herself to be in an unknown social situation, but partly cause she is OUT and AWAY from Home). No entertainment required. No coordination of schedules unless both parties are amenable and actively seek out such. May need to sleep past when other people are up and Out. May take naps mid day. Doesn't need to be at any particular parties, since she has done a terrible job of  staying "in touch" with the blog world. Kind (usually), Loyal to her friends. To sum it up, in the words of Britney Spears, the people of world tend to fall into "the ones who can handle me, and the ones that are scared." I am, after all, a put on a show kind of a girl.