Yesterday I spewed 1500 words about BlogHer – and got through Wednesday.
The conference didn’t even start, officially, until Friday.
There is just so damn much.
I was in Chicago for five days and every single one of those days was filled with highs and lows and laughter and nervousness and – because it’s me – embarrassing shit that makes me simultaneously giggle and cringe. I want to tell you all of it, but realize that a) I can’t, and b) you would probably kill me if I tried.
In the metaphorical sense, of course.
Unless you’re totally crazy and would actually consider trying to hunt me down in order to kill me for being a boring blogger. In which case – did I mention I recently moved to Virginia?
ANYway, instead of doing a fabulous job of storytelling, I’m just going to word vomit on you. My apologies in advance.
I was in Chicago early because I got invited to attend a Ford PR thingie. That’s the official name. Thingie. As you may recall, I was totally excited to be invited to anything, and totally less excited when I realized this was the kind of anything that did not involve booze or free stuff. I was, in other words, dreading having to go listen to a bunch of PR people drag on and on at me about how awesome their blah blah blah was.
And then I went and fell head over heels in love with Ford.
The company. The cars. The totally fucking awesome people.
My first encounter with Ford was the oh so cute Scott Monty, who does their online PR or something. He is, as I told twitter, cuuuuute. He is also happily married, which makes him even cuter. He also knew all about “Found On Road Dead” – which I found out when I mentioned it to him, because I am a piece of work. Clearly.
Basically, we rode on buses to a local Ford plant and they showed us all of the cool stuff that is available on the new Fords. By “they” I mean both the marketing people and the actual engineer people who made up the cool new stuff. I cannot even tell you how awesome it was to squee about the parking assist feature and watch the guy who helped create it absolutely BEAM with pride at his own work. I also cannot begin to tell you how absolutely gorgeous all of the women who work at Ford are.
I think they recruit from anchor woman school or something.
ANYway – it was amazing. If you ever get a chance to tour the facilities of an American car company, do it. And then, for the love of God, buy American. In fact, *I* would personally recommend you buy Ford – because they are that fucking awesome. They have, in my opinion, done a craptastic job of letting people know about their fuel efficiency and their environmental efforts and their technological advances and their quality and their blah blah blah anything but cliched stuff you see in car commercials.
I walked out of that experience proud to be American and proud to see that we do, in fact, still make damn fine cars.
And no one paid me a damn dime to say that.
Clearly. Because I think Scott Monty would die of a heart attack if he knew I used the words “damn” and “craptastic” and “fucking” in this little write up.
And this is why people should invite me to stuff.
The other highlight of Thursday for me was making an absolute ass of myself in front of Amalah.
I saw her eating or drinking or something and literally lost my shit. I pointed. I jumped up and down. I squeed like a motherfucker. It was my one and only complete and total fan girl moment of the weekend. And I so don’t care because DUDES, I MET AMALAH!
I had my panel on Friday and it was.. well… meh, to be honest with you. It didn’t go exactly as I’d hoped and I talked wayyyy too much and owe ZoeyJane the world’s biggest apology for running all over her. I walked out of the room kind of shaky and wanting desperately to dodge any compliments and encouragement I received.
Clearly, I have issues.
Friday night I got to attend an offsite party hosted by Nikon. Two totally awesome things happened at that party that I will be gushing about until the day I die.
One – when we got to the event we had to show some form of ID to get a bracelet. While everyone was showing badges, I was standing around talking and basically waiting my turn. I looked down to see someone strapping a black wristband on me.
“Hey, um, you didn’t ask me for my ID,” I said.
The brunette behind the check in table smiled. “You’re Miss Britt,” she said. “I read your blog.”
And then my head exploded. I grinned and laughed and told every single person who would listen that “holy crap! That Nikon worker lady knew who I was! She reads my blog! Holy shit I AM THE MOST AWESOME PERSON IN THE WORLD!”
Because I am nothing if not humble.
Two – we all got in line to meet Carson Kressley. The gig was, apparently, that we would get our pictures taken and then Carson would give us pointers on how to “look good in pictures”. Melissa and I took our before pictures together and Carson suggested she put her hair back to show off her shoulders a little more.
Then he turned to me, waved his hand over me, and said “You’re perfect.”
And then my whole body exploded. And I jumped up and down and squeed and told anyone who would listen that “CARSON SAID I WAS PERFECT! My husband might think I’m a shit – but CARSON SAID I WAS PERFECT! Someone, please, make sure that ends up on my tombstone!”
Because, again, I am humble.
The Nikon event was super fun, but after a little while a few of us headed back into the limos to make our way to the MamaPop party.
And Oh. My. God.
That party? Was fantastic.
I danced my ass off. And possibly Michael’s ass off as well. This was just one hellaciously good party. No swag bag, no wall to wall people. Just a dance floor and awesome 80s music and a bunch of people hanging out.
Of course, I had to be literally carried back to my room and my feet still have not regained full feeling. But it was worth it. Sweetney and Her Bad Mother deserve some kind of awesome party planning award.
The highlight of Saturday for me was getting to moderate the “men” panel of BlogHer.
Adam, Matthew and Jim were phenomal. Absolutely phenomenal. They were funny and touching and amazing. I was honored to share a stage with them even if it was just to hold a microphone and ask questions from a piece of paper.
On a personal note, I can’t even express how proud I was of Adam. Although I sure as hell tried by saying “I am just so damn proud of you” over and over and over again all weekend. But – well – I was. I am. I watched a man who barely left his house two years ago, get on a stage and make people laugh. I watched him walk up to total strangers and introduce himself.
And mostly, I watched hundreds and hundreds of strangers discover what I have known forever: how absolutely awesome he is.
And now you’ll have to excuse me while I go throw up a little.
My takeaway from BlogHer is this:
There is far more good in the world than bad.
Most people, if given the chance, will astound you with their grace and humor and vibrance. We are, most of us, pretty much the same. We want a chance to laugh and talk and be heard. We want to know you better. We want to dance. We want to feel a connection to the people around us.
Sure, there are assholes in the world. There are things that will disappoint you and make you shake your head. There are people who you will learn are better kept at arm’s length.
But there is so much more good than bad.
I’m kind of a tool.