Blogher? I don't even know her.

I've bought cute new shoes. My clothes are ready to be packed.

(As a quick aside: is there an award for the largest bag or the most overpacked? I tend to try to pack for every situation, and since I've never been to the Blogher conference, and I have no idea what to expect, I'm packing everything in my closet. Including my pith helmet and ass-less chaps. You never know when you'll be called upon to do some naked Western spelunking.)

My potions and lotions will be squirreled away in their appropriate plastic bags - not that it matters since I'll probably have to check my bag. I've got my business cards ready to go (Moo cards. Love them. No swag this year, though. Ran out of money. Maybe next year.). My toes are shiny with new polish and my hair will be attended to this evening. I'm expecting miracles. I'm sure my stylist will do wonders with my Mom Bob.

I'll have all the necessary electronics with me: Laptop, camera, iPod, cell phone. Maybe I should pack my portable defibrillator. You just never know.

Mr. C is taking the next couple of days off to be with Chicky, so they'll each be in good hands. I'm sure the house will be a disaster upon my return, but I'm hopeful that I'll be wrong.

My reservations have been confirmed.

I think that's everything. So, what am I forgetting?

Hmmm...

Oh yeah, my mind.

My brain is hiding underneath the pillows, which are under the comforter, which is in my bedroom behind a closed door with all the shades pulled down. My brain has not yet accepted the fact that I am leaving tomorrow. My poor melon cannot wrap its head (har) around the idea that I'll be in the company of all these women whose lives I've been reading about. But mainly my gray matter is freaking out because 1) I have to get on a plane tomorrow - and I hate flying - by myself, something I haven't done in years (Flying by myself, that is. Awkward sentence. Sorry.) and 2) there will be crowds. Of people. Some of whom will know of me without ever having met me. It's enough to make me want to hide in the bathroom.

If I have a slightly glazed look on my face when you meet me, that'll be why. I'll be completely overwhelmed and unable to control my situation. And I hate that. I'll adapt, of course, but I do not relish that first feeling of uncertainty. I'm a control freak, I'll admit it. I like to be totally comfortable in my surroundings, which means I like to know where I'm going at what time and what I will expect to see/do/experience when I get there.

I'm a laugh riot, I tell ya. A blast to be with.

I wasn't always like this. I suppose I've always had the tendency to be a control freak, but my controlling tendencies have multiplied exponentially since I began working with dogs and then took on a life of its own once I became a mother. I'm surrounded by creatures that need to be on schedules, that thrive on consistency. There's got to be repercussions stemming from living like that, right?

Eh, like I said - I'll adapt. Hand me a glass of wine and all will be fine and dandy like cotton candy.

To all of you ladies (and men) who will be heading to Blogher in the next day or so - fare thee well. Safe travels and all that. I'll see you all soon, albeit with a slightly glazed but quite genuine smile on my face. I'm thrilled over the prospect of meeting you all in person.

To those of you who will not be attending, I'll try to write updates on the conference and festivities while I'm there. I'll try to post pictures and all that. I remember how I felt last year when I was scanning the internet, looking for posts from Blogher. I will take you with me in spirit. And there's always next year.

One more thing:
I'll be bringing the black nail polish and I wear a size 9 shoe.