This is it and then I'm not talking about it again

*now with pictures!

Because maybe you want to know what I did in my last 48 hours in SF, but maybe you'd rather I go back to talking about hand jobs. So let's just spit it out over one or two posts and be done with it, eh?

Sorry Mom -- my mom was really mad at me for telling my frienemy to kiss my ass for calling me Janet. She said I'm being very vulgar and rude again. Sorry Ma, thought you weren't reading anymore. It's kind of like when you went through my garbage and found the box for those birth control pills. If you want a peek at my private side, you might see something you don't want to. Love you!

I've been reading everyone's complaints -- well as many as I can with a family and a full-time job -- and seeing that some people felt there was drama, some felt left out, some felt people were rude, or bitchy. I gotta say that other than my one not-so-great experience, I didn't really see that. I was so happy to be with my dear friends and to meet new people, especially those I'd never read. Most of all, I was happy to be in a gorgeous city with no kids, no responsibilities and free drink tickets.

Katie: Hmm, if I have breakfast and a beer BEFORE the drinks, can I prevent the hangover?

At the People's Party the first night, I met a ton of nice people. Katie introduced me to all her party peeps and they were friendly and easy to talk to, though we had to shout over the loud music. I decided to check out the Newbie Party and as I walked around the big ballroom looking for a familiar face, I realized I knew nobody. Suddenly a hand was outreached and a pretty brunette was saying, "You look like you need a friend."

Pretty brunette was from Seattle and with her blonde buddy (they write THIS BLOG together) and a tall model of a woman who writes Ask Wifey. Lemme tell you that these people were genuine, smiling, saying hello and chatting with me all weekend.

Lorraine/Wifey, me looking PFG and the amazing Kim. Clearly not my camera phone... thanks Chris!

Then Jory "I am one of the BlogHer three" DesJardins came up to our group and was so completely gracious (and stunning) that she didn't even mention she was one of "the BlogHer three," took all our cards and talked to us for quite sometime.

I also got to cling to Amy Assertagirl, Mimi and Kyla, who were all incredibly nice and didn't mind hanging out with a self-important cuss mouth like me. I met Sarah of MotherProof.com -- a site I knew about through work -- which does car reviews from the perspective of moms. (You should check it out if you're in the market for a new vehicle.) I met Barbara from Wired PRWorks, whose own children are teens now, but who still got excited when her site made the Alltop list for PR blogs while we were there. You wouldn't really get the chance to talk to women like this in any other situation. Meeting people like these is what BlogHer is all about.

Katie, Amy, Kyla

Oh sure, being in the same room as Dooce is nice. But not as nice as sitting on a couch at the top of Macy's and bitching about tiredness with Stephanie of Baby on Bored. Which is awesome -- particularly when you name dropped your rarely-blogging friend Crabby Kate and Stephanie knew who she was -- but not even as close to the incredible 100 individual blogger cards I now have in my luggage, begging to be emailed to say how wonderful it was to meet each and every one of you.

Sorry if I met you but didn't mention you. Sincerely sorry. My mind is fuzz. I was truly impressed by the calibre of people who attended BlogHer. If you were wondering if it's worth going next year, I whole-heartedly say yes. Life is what you make it, as one of my favourite dancehall songs says. If you want to invite drama into your life and spend the weekend being Nicki Newman, well then don't complain. But if you think you can go into a nerve-wracking new experience and embrace it, approach others with a big smile and make the most out of it -- well then start saving your cash for the best girls' weekend ever.

*******
But the drama was bound to happen. You may have read about some of it: Jenny the Bloggess called Dooce a mythical hobbit in a post and ended her statement with something like, "It will get ugly." And it kinda did. The situation was unflattering to both of them. Dooce mentioned the mythical hobbit business in her keynote speech and then Jenny got up and tried to defend herself, saying that she meant Dooce was a fucking awesome mythical hobbit. Whatever. I admire them both, and did lots of drunken talking with Jenny on a random street corner, but I kinda wish that whole thing didn't happen.

There was other drama. Some big bloggers leaving out another well-known blogger because they've kinda dropped her from their circle for whatever reason. I heard the food bloggers had it out. I'm sure the knitters poked each other's eyeballs out with crochet needles. The crafters came armed with bedazzlers. You get the picture. It's WOMEN. This is why we don't rule the world.

By Saturday I was starting to get "the vibe." You know the one. The vibe that happens when you plunk down your hungover butt at someone's table and you're not brought into the conversation. The vibe that happens when you're standing next to A-listers who are in a conversation with your friend and no one bothers to make introductions. By the time I got to the Macy's party I was done.

My roomie left Saturday afternoon. Partner that with the extreme hangovers Katie and I were nursing and suddenly going to sessions didn't seem all that important. Plus I wanted to go to Victoria's Secret (post to come) and there was no time in the schedule to shop or eat. I was feeling claustrophobic. Vagina-ed out.

I have a rule: Always leave the party on a high note. I was feeling pretty good about my experience at BlogHer and while 250 cheeseburgers sounded good, I bid adieu to my sidekicks, Katie and Amanda in search of adventure.