So my former BlogHer roommates have been emailing back and forth for CENTURIES about what to pack for the conference, one even going so far as to lay our her outfits, photograph them, and send them all for our admiration. Or approval.
I don't know which it was, but I have not stopped making fun of them. Because, look:
"A thought that has crossed my mind: Do I need sparkle for Sparklecorn? I don't like costumes."
In my experience at Sparklecorn, you can wear (or not wear) whatever the fuck you want to wear (or not wear), so I replied, "No you don't. Not even a little bit." Just bring your boobs.
So while this entire month-long exchange has been entertaining, I woke up this morning and realize I have to get on an airplane. Like, TOMORROW. And with me must come clothing and shit.
Now I'm frantically reading the archived emails from my former roommates, trying to decide what to bring, what not to bring, challenging my shitty memory to decide what I took last year that was non-necessary and what I forgot to bring, all the while forcing myself not to panic that I am getting. On. A flying DEATHTRAP.
On purpose, and with purposeful intent.
So I'm also regretting how I let the laundry pile up for days and days now because UNDERWEAR?!?! does not seem to exist in my household at the moment. And skirts? are all fucking M.I.A. Which means I'll be one of the dykes at BlogHer, baggy jeans and my home-grown mullet, which means I'll be a predator: a horny dyke in a sea of thousands of awesome vaginas, and frankly, people are already scared to meet me. Being a dyke predator is NOT going to help my case.
Haircut? Might be the easiest solution.
Anyhoodle, bon voyage and wish me luck because I'm pretty sure I'll be dying in a flaming, airplane-shaped inferno tomorrow.
I've actually gone to work commando and used my lunch break to head to good ole Victoria's secret to remedy the situation. All because I hate doing the laundry and always think a clean pair will just appear in the 11th hour. It has yet to appear.
ReplyDeleteWell, this is kind of mean spirited, especially when a good 70% of the emails were clearly joking.
ReplyDeleteLive and let live and all that.
I travel all the time and found that whatever I've forgotten can be picked up at a store fairly easily. So really all you need to pack is a Visa card.
ReplyDeleteHave a great time in San Diego! I am an avid reader of your blog (and avid lurker, apparently). I am coming out of the shadows to tell you that I live in San Diego and do the marketing for a shopping center (Seaport Village) that is directly next to the BlogHer hotel. So when you are strolling the boardwalk- iiifff a rabid girl comes screaming and running towards you telling you how much she adores you. That is me. Fair warning.
ReplyDelete-Megan