Friday, July 29, 2011

::UPDATED:: Newsflash: I am really really good at fucking everything up, ya'll.

So I decided we can't afford to send my pretty little self to BlogHer. Too much else going on. Too many bills. Too many weeks without paychecks (for Gray AND me). Too many real things to justify going on a fancy, self-indulgent whim of a trip for a writing career I don't even have.

BUT.

They don't offer refunds.

ANDOHMYGODMYROOMMATESFOUNDAREPLACEMENTBECAUSEITOLDTHEMIWASN'TCOMINGBECAUSEOFCOURSETHEYDIDWHOWOULDN'TBUTNOWI'MGOINGTOBESLEEPINGINADUMPSTERWITHTHATGUYFROMALLTHEMOVIESWITHTHEBADHAIRANDAPETPARAKEETBECAUSEOHMYGODHOMELESS!

What I'm trying to say is...if you're going to BlogHer and you have a spare bed in your room that you'd like to fill up with 100% AWESOME...CALL ME.
I need you.

::UPDATED:: I decided that the only way to avoid homeless parakeet guy was to book a room all by my very own self. Roommates might follow, they might not. So I went to the Marriott website and found that there aren't any rooms available, and I must say this is probably the only time I've EVER encountered an over-population of vaginas.

If you're a dude, or a lesbian, or have a shoe fetish, this is probably a really awesome time to visit San Diego.

So instead, I booked a room at another, cheaper hotel about a mile from the convention. Which means I spent the same amount on one room with one bed and no roommates as I would have paid to split a room at the Marriott with three other chicks, and by "chicks" I mean gigantic suitcases of shoes and 45 shirts per day and lots LOTS of face cream.

So really, the solo room should work out nicely.

Except for the whole "walking back a mile to the hotel in the middle of the night by myself when I'm drunk. And probably naked" thing.