I went to BlogU last weekend which means I had to get on an airplane. I’m totally fine with that claustrophobic terror that your last moments will be spent screaming through recycled air, but I’m less okay with the horrors of airport security. My routine anxiety was amplified by the presence of a bomb/drug sniffing dog. While I didn’t have either of these, I did have an overly crafted dress that I’m pretty sure could get you high and/or be a weapon of mass destruction.
The theme of this year’s party was “Tacky Wedding” so I decided to dress like a tacky bouquet and walk around saying things like “Who wants to toss my lady garden?” which was extra weird when I was talking to DJ Paris in his Priest garb.
I kept telling Alex he needed to appreciate my normal lack of craftiness because I nearly burned my house down while making that dress. Apparently David’s Bridal Satin + Feathers + Super Glue = lots of smoke and heat.
Thankfully the drug dog let me through with a casual sniff– though that didn’t mean my travel was without incident.
I probably annoyed everyone with my overuse of the #BlogU16 hashtag but you should know there were many details I spared– like the fact I had to use a toilet seat cover for something other than covering a toilet seat.
When I arrived at our hotel I was pleased to see the room was larger than my first apartment. “Oh my God,” I thought, “I’m so fancy. Look at me. I will have a posh party with posh people.”
Instead, I paid another $300 to Uber to an Applebees next to a Quality Inn half an hour away. Why? Because that’s where ma people at.
I know. Applebees is a punch line. But this was no normal Applebees. This was THE Applebees. You know the one– it’s in their commercials and it’s packed and everyone is having an amazing time.
There was even Karaoke. By midnight (because we shut the place down, obviously) it was so packed you had to bump uglies with people just to get to the bathroom. But unlike da club there was a lot of meaningful interaction happening– like when a woman in a tiara cuddled up next to Chrissy and things started to get intimate.
“You look like someone who’s good at giving advice.”
I’m not saying Chrissy is bad at giving advice– but let’s not forget we were getting drunk at an Applebees so I’m pretty sure we’re the last people who should be giving out free therapy. Regardless, The Tiara’d Stranger asked what she should do about her grown son cutting her out of his life.
How I would have answered, because I am cold and heartless and cynical: “Well I’m sure you did something terrible to cause him to make that choice, but I like your tiara.”
How Chrissy answered, because she is a kind and hopeful person: “You just need to love him.”
That set the tone for the rest of the weekend: Me being terrible, and everyone else being lovely and amazing.
My dorm mate was the newly famous Jen Simon, who pretended like I didn’t ruin her life by trying to climb onto the top bunk at 3AM with a bottom sheet the size of (and roughly the same texture as) a cocktail napkin.
While BlogU is renowned for its parties, my favorite party came at the end of the weekend. Freshly showered with a new sheen of sweat, I danced to 90’s music with a glass of wine in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.
“Sounds like my wife’s kind of party,” Alex said.
Lest you think I didn’t actually learn anything, I assure you there was a life-altering takeaway from the weekend:
THE GLORY OF A SNAPCHAT FILTER.
Holy shit. That’s not what I look like but it’s TOTALLY what I look like. Call me.
The classes were also amazing. I have a thousand things to do (once I get back to my normal routine of not staying up all night dancing and drinking and talking about things like Native Shares and ISO) and enjoyed the motivating kick in the pants from the keynote speakers, Deva and DJ.
I decided to take an extra day off work (because this is the ONLY good thing about being the boss) and hang out with another internet friend, Angelle. We day-drank champagne and bought overpriced undergarments before trying to steal someone’s car in a Georgetown parking garage.
Then I got to stay the night with Malleable Mom, who basically gave me a long list of LIFE GOALS:
- Raise awesome creative children who love Harry Potter and are already way funnier than me.
- Actually have furniture on my patio.
- Learn to accept people with drastically different political opinions and worldviews than myself and see the value they offer in expanding my own perspective.
- Be the type of person who just randomly has caviar in the fridge.
The overall takeaway of the conference was to HASHTAG BE YOU. As much fun as this is to say (especially in comments when people are sharing their most recent questionable life choices) I hope we can all find a way– one that isn’t cliche or manufactured– to get a little more comfortable with being ourselves. And by comfortable I mean as uncomfortable as the mental image of me running around asking everyone to toss my lady garden. You can do it. I believe in you.
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