A Tribal Blogs Conference

There’s a blogging conference and all the ‘Cool Kids’ are going. You may know some of them.

First, there’s the founder of Tribal Blogs and Redhead Ranting Jennifer. Margaret of Nanny Goats in Panties, will be there, as well as Kathy of The Junk Drawer. Plus Rachele of Wine at Five, my long-lost-sister Nicky of We Work For Cheese, Moog aka ‘The Midget Man of Steel’ from Mental Poo, and “Shut the f#^% up Donny” so is my friend K from CardioGirl. Just to name a few.

[Oh, and because it’s being held in Minnesota, there’s also a very good chance I might get to meet one of my long time blogging girlfriends Terri, of Into The Mystic. She lives there.]

The best part is, everybody is invited! You don’t even have to be a Tribal Blogs member to attend.

And I REALLY want to go.

And not just because I’ve become good friends with some of the people who are attending and I would have a fabulous time. But also because I really think I would learn some very valuable information. It’s not all that often the opportunity presents itself wherein I could be surrounded by so many totally-super-funny, incredibly talented, and brilliant writers.

Over the last five years I’ve spent blogging, I have never attended any kind of writer/blogger conference. That’s largely in part because I am easily intimidated, and the fact that I am a poor person, made for the perfect excuse to skip out on such events. But I don’t want to skip out on this. And I don’t want to come up with any excuses. In fact, going to this conference will not only provide an awesome educational experience, and life-long-memories, but it will also force me to face some of my fears.

So, let’s just suspend reality for a moment, and pretend that I am able to come up with enough money for a plane ticket, hotel accommodations, and the registration fee. [I’m looking at you mom.] And, let’s just pretend that I am able to find a babysitter willing to watch my 14-year-old son while I will be out of town. [Again, I’m looking at you mom.]

That being said, if we put the monetary constraints aside, let’s talk about some of the fears I’m going to have to face in order to make this happen. Shall we?

First – Getting On An Airplane.

I am absolutely petrified of flying. It has nothing to do with the pat-downs and/or full body-scans, and it has nothing to do with possible threat of being hijacked by some crazy-extreme-terrorist. I’ve been flying, ALONE, since I was 13 years old. And I never used to be scared. That is, until I had one horrifying experience. And that horrifying experience included: extreme, violent turbulence, which caused the oxygen masks to drop from the ceiling, and the luggage to fall out of the overhead compartments. In turn, that led me to think WE’RE ALL GUNNA DIE, because I wholeheartedly believed at that very moment gravity could reach right up, grab a hold of my plane, and rip me from the skies. And if that wasn’t bad enough? On that very same flight I was seated next to a man with a serious case of chronic halitosis – which inevitably sent me into uncontrollable heaving and hurling for the entire seven-hour flight. Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. I literally kissed the tarmac when we finally landed safely.

Desperate to avoid flying, especially after seeing what seat 27A looks like, I momentarily considered ‘Road Tripping’ my way out to Minnesota with another friend. [I’m looking at you, Valerie.] But then I looked at a map. And even though I am completely geographically challenged, I realized it would take several days for us to travel by car. On the one hand taking a road trip like that would be a blast, she could be the Thelma to my Louise. On the other hand, I remembered that Valerie and I both have a penchant for getting lost. Really lost. Even within the confines of our own towns. Val has mentioned she couldn’t find her way out of paper bag, and I can’t read directions to save my life. I have an awful suspicion the two of us would wind up somewhere closely located to “Fuck If I Know” and end up sold as sex-slaves. Or worse. We might land ourselves in ‘Even More Canada’, and that would really suck, because the only person who I know that lives in that area is Nicky. And she won’t be home – because she will be at the conference.

Which brings me right back to flying on an airplane.

I know I would feel a whole lot better if I had someone to fly with me. [I’m still looking at you, Valerie.] Just think, we could white-knuckle the flight together and toss back a few cocktails. And by a few, I really mean MANY.

Second – Making A Fool Of Myself.

A) The Sound Of My Voice, And The Things I Might Accidentally Say:

When I am overly excited, I’m inclined to shrill like an old Jewish woman from New York, or Fran Drescher. Not to mention my natural speaking voice is generally 1,924,837.6 decibels higher than your average Jane. No one will ever accuse me of being a low talker. Plus, I have a tendency to put my foot in my mouth whenever I’m nervous. And since there aren’t any delete or backspace keys when you’re talking face-to-face with someone, I can guarantee I will say something really stupid. And then, I will have to live with that shame and humiliation for the rest of my life. Also, there’s the issue of cussing. While it’s seldom I use expletives online, or in my writing, in ‘Real Life’ I have been knows to curse like a Sailor. It’s almost as if I have sporadic episodes of  Tourette’s syndrome. Honestly, ya’ll.  Just ask Kathy. We recently met this past summer, and I literally frightened her.

B) Clothing:

I have no idea what to pack for an event like this. Moreover, I have no idea what to wear. Do I have to dress respectably, like business casual? I would be highly embarrassed if I showed up either under-dressed, or over-dressed. Will someone please fill me in? What exactly is the appropriate attire for a blogging conference?  Because at this point I’d pack every article of clothing I own, and I’m willingly check 15 different pieces of luggage, just to be on the safe side. Also, if I have to put on real pants, or god-forbid a skirt, and pretty shoes, I definitely need to go shopping. Yanno, unless, I am allowed to come to the meetings dressed in my pajamas, or at least my ‘Pajama Jeans’, and my slippers?

Third – The Hotel Room.

Here’s a little secret you my or may not know about me. I am afraid to sleep alone in new places. Especially hotels. I think I’ve seen the movie ‘The Shining’ one too many times. I would feel a lot safer if I had ‘Roommate’ to help me figure out what those strange noises are. And bonus, we could split the cost of the room with each other, thus saving money. [Once again, I’m looking at you, Valerie!]

Of course, it wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t warn you. I’m not exactly an easy person to share a room with.

1. I have major insomnia. I usually can’t fall asleep until the wee hours. And, I like to keep the television on all night long.

2. I’m obsessively clean. You will probably catch me spot-cleaning in-between the maid service.  And I will be checking the sheets and towels with my special black-light for any shady stains.

3. I am not a morning person, by any stretch of the imagination. I must have at least two cups of coffee before I can speak to anyone. Seriously, do NOT even attempt to make eye-contact with me until I’ve ingested enough caffeine equivalent to an 8-ball of cocaine.

4. It takes a minimum of 45 minutes to do my hair. Between my hot-rollers, my blow dryer, my flatiron, my specialized shampoo and conditioners, I’m going to need an entire carry-on-case simply for my ‘hair supplies’. Because as long as my hair looks good, I might be a little less concerned about how I’m dressed, or the idiotic things I’m going to say.

To summarize, before this becomes the longest blog post ever written in the history of the world…

If by some small miracle I suddenly get an unexpected windfall of money, or win the lottery, and if by yet another other small miracle, I manage to find the courage to challenge myself to face my fears, and if by one last small miracle, you all help convince me and Valerie to ‘please join the conference’…

Then, I will attend.

* PS:  When you’re looking for me, if you don’t recognize me from the 15,000+ photos I’ve posted online? I’ll be the girl in pajamas, with fabulous hair, who clearly had too much alcohol to drink on the airplane, wielding 15 different pieces of luggage, and shouting obscenities.