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It's my party and I'll BlogHer if I want to. I think. Possibly.

Guess what? A month and a half ahead of time, I have already researched, chosen, and purchased my own birthday present. On August 3, I will turn 33, an age I have decided to be excited about because it involves a double digit and therefore bodes of Good Things, much like a four-leaf clover or photos of Kellan Lutz with his shirt off. Then, on August 6, I will roll merrily into New York City, where I will attend BlogHer ’10 with approximately one zillion other women.

I have big hopes for this BlogHer-for-birthday plan, though many of these hopes are thrashing and drowning in my pre-conference anxiety. Do they have a special seating section for people who own Eensy Weensy Blogs? Are women who write content that awkwardly straddles the mommyblog/humor blog/whoknowswhat blog shunned, or encouraged to skip the nightly cocktail parties? When I close my eyes and try to visualize the conference, all I can imagine is a throbbing mass of women, 30% of whom are skinnier than I am, 70% of whom have better shoes, and 99% of whom have better known blogs.


Thankfully, wonderful, splendid Taryn is also going and has sworn to shield me from the waves of success emanating from Christian Louboutin-shod Amalahs and Finslippys and Chookooloonks. I’m hoping she’ll also warn me of any impending fashion mistakes. At the last conference I attended, a huge writers’ affair where I knew no one and was totally outranked, I chose to wear a bright-blue patterned shirt, which I thought perked up my black pants nicely. I was feeling fairly self-assured when a woman standing near me said, “Wow! Nice shirt!

“Thanks!” I said, thrilled to be speaking to someone finally.

“That color blue is so…brave,” she replied. Then I think she may have snickered.

Suffice it to say, I will wearing all black at BlogHer. THE ENTIRE TIME.

(Anyone else going?)

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