Like, really REALLY hate it.
Don’t get me started on people who say they love the peaceful freedom of soaring above the heavens, or the ones who FALL ASLEEP BEFORE THE PLANE TAKES OFF. (Dear Lord, how?!) No, I’m more of the opinion that the responsibility of keeping the plane aloft is mine alone, and rests solely upon whether or not I was nice that day, and so I spend the bulk of my day prior to takeoff helping the elderly, reading to the blind, and kissing babies.
I really don't believe that, exactly, and don't do most of that stuff, but I do kiss my own baby! And I’m generally nice! Doesn’t that count for something?
Well, apparently it does, because my plane made it to
There were so many fantastic things about this past weekend, so I’ll just kick it off with my roommate.
As Emily herself has pointed out, going into a roommate situation while never having met or even spoken to the person before has the potential to be a complete and unmitigated catastrophe.
I needn’t have worried.
This girl is too funny for words, adorable, and has some kickin’ dance moves. We had the best time, and had far too many “OMG, me too!” moments to count. She shares my love of trivia, my hatred of talking on the phone, and my firm belief that Lindsay Lohan really is just a little mixed up right now, and can, nay, will rise again. Plus, she has the prettiest handwriting ever. Seriously. Many thanks again to all of you who thought to set us up as roommates, and played Yenta* the Matchmaker to our…uh, whoever the couple is in Fiddler on the Roof. Which, in case you can’t tell, I’ve never seen. (I know! And I’m Jewish! This must be some sort of blasphemy!)
After visiting Piece, I did. Because sweet merciful crap, best beer EVER. I can’t for the life of me remember the name of the brew that I tried, but I do recall seeing a beer on the menu entitled “Baron von Awesome.” I promptly dubbed myself Baroness von Awesome, and had visions of my tiny beer children singing “The Lonely Goatherd” while their free-spirit governess sewed them clothing from the drapes. All while rationalizing the purchase of a beer helmet.
I’m a multi-tasker, you see.
Overall, while I had some issues with the conference itself (which Emily did a fantastic job of articulating), it was so much fun finally getting to meet the amaaaaazing women (Sorry Darren, but I had to!) who I’d heretofore only read. I was, quite frankly, quaking in my ballet flats about the whole thing, but the overall experience was great, and not at all like the high school cafeteria horror I had envisioned. And Lizarita totally made my day (she knows why). Moreover, I discovered some new peeps. (Moose! Schnozz! Where have you been all my life?! AND WHY DO ALL OF YOU LADIES LIVE SO FAR AWAY?!)
I still must discuss my trip back to NY, which encompasses my mad Jack Bauer-esque counter-terrorism skillz, an unscheduled landing, and my sneaking suspicion that my lotion was sending me a bad sign about the flight. No, really. For now, I’m off to catch up with all of you, and then ponder why, exactly, I felt it necessary to take home the blue and yellow Butterball potholder from my bag o’ free conference crap.In the meantime, here are my Flickr pictures from the conference.
Update: As further proof that I've never seen Fiddler on the Roof, I truly thought that the martchmaker character's name was Yentl, not Yenta. Oops.