Home again finnegan.  A swift return to small town life.

So I'm back from a blogger conference that I sort of feel I'm not supposed to blog about.
The first rule of Write Club is you do not talk about Write Club.

I'll say this, though.  BlogHer is just like the internet.  There's a bunch of really cool people you wish you lived closer to, and a bunch of really weird people you are glad you don't.  There are people you look up to and people you can't stand.  Some people are prettier than you thought they were, some people look better in avatar.  Some are fatter some are thinner some are taller some are shorter some are quieter some are louder some are some are some are.

It was fantastic.

I want one more day of it all.  One more kissy hissy chatty catty huggy buggy day.

Lots of my friends from home were there.  That was nice.  Especially because I don't ever see them here.  Funny how we have to travel two hours just to get some face time with one another.
A bunch of computerfriends where there too.  It's funny how normal it is these days to have never met someone you've known for years.  And when you finally do it seems like you see one another every day.  Love that.  Love it, love it, love it.

I skipped the seminar part of the weekend and just got the party pass.  I really needed some alone time, and what better place to get it than Manhattan?  Wednesday I walked around midtown and was lucky enough to score a free ticket to see West Side Story with Cecily, Ellie, and Debbie.  I'm not one for theater, but I'm one for free.  And I know all the words to all the songs in WSS, so I sort of jumped at the chance to go.  You  know, just to see if I thought I could do it better. 
Yes.
I would've been a better Maria.  Except I'd need a stand-in for the Spanish parts.  And the dancing.  But the singing?  All me.

Wednesday night= hotel room parties.  Some people were in their jammies.  I was not.  I'm not really one for drinking if I'm away from home.  I get really skittish and paranoid and I'm just not good with it.  But I have no problem watching other people get drunk.  And I certainly had no problem spending some Quality Time with  my roommates, Jenny and Julia.  They are the awesome.  And I really wish we lived closer because now I miss them even more than I did before.  And I'm not just saying that because they might read this. 

Aren't we just the prettiest?

Thursday was hot.  Outside.  I was hellbent on walking all around Central Park and circling the reservoir.  So I did.  Nobody was there who could tell me what to do or ask me for something.  It was glorious.  Then I walked up to St. John the Divine.  Which was amazing and I will most likely address in a post of its own.  I cried.  And I'm not a crier.  Unless there is a parade or marching band involved.  Those things get me every time.  But there wasn't a marching band at church. 
Also amazing?  I didn't burn up on entry.  There is hope for me yet.

Thursday night, BlogHer parties.  OMG. 

Friday was lunch in Battery Park with a friend who lives and works in Manhattan.  And doesn't blog.  I walked down 7th and around to Wall Street to meet her, and accidentally landed myself at Ground Zero.  I thought I could go around, but it was bigger than I thought.  I really didn't want to be there. 
And yes, there are still people posing in front of it for pictures.  With smiles on their faces.  So so so so sick.  Also sick?  They bottle neck you around the construction site so there is a lot of pushing and shoving and general pissiness. 
Hated it.
But loved lunch.

Friday night, BlogHer parties.  OMG.

Saturday was spent bumming the Upper West Side and lunch with this girl who is blogging anonymously these days.  I waited for that lunch for years and years and years and when it finally happened I'm glad we only got pie, because there wasn't a lot of mouth time spent eating.  We pretty much didn't shut up for two hours.

Saturday night, BlogHer parties.  OMG.

I had planned to take the Bolt Bus home early early early on Sunday morning, but because I was smart and married the nicest man in the whole wide world when he was young and didn't know any better, I got picked up in the middle of Saturday night and driven home like royalty.  And I didn't even have to ask,  he just offered to swing by and pick me up if that was easier for me. 
-or-
he didn't have anything better to do than drive into Midtown Manhattan because he is a raging insomniac. 
One or the other.

I left in total Cinderella fashion, a few minutes before midnight without saying goodbye to anyone.
I would have cried if I had to say goodbye.
And there wasn't even a marching band.