Reading this post on Gin and Tacos led me to this video on AT&T’s archives.

My grandparents still have their rotary phone, which I regarded with disdain when I was young. If I was spending the night there as a kid, I had to think long and hard about how badly [...]]]> One more thing before the weekend…

Reading this post on Gin and Tacos led me to this video on AT&T’s archives.

My grandparents still have their rotary phone, which I regarded with disdain when I was young. If I was spending the night there as a kid, I had to think long and hard about how badly I wanted to call my parents, because our phone number had 8s and 7s and even A ZERO AND DEAR GOD LIFE IS TOO SHORT. Now, it’s kind of cool to use it. The whirring zip of the dial gives me the tiniest thrill and the action of moving it around with my finger makes me feel like I possess some mysterious old skill.

The husband and I were watching Adaptation the other night, which we love and I was struck by this scene in which Meryl Streep’s character, deep in an experiment with mind-expanding orchid powder and finally fascinated by something, has a winding phone conversation with her article subject and soon-to-be lover.

I remarked to the husband, somewhat sadly, “People soon won’t remember what dial tones sound like. Cell phones don’t have them.” I never noticed it before, but it really is quite a beautiful sound.

Saturday I had to work, which is inherently ugh. Yes, it was for a [...]]]> Remember on Friday when I admitted that we hadn’t been grocery shopping since, like, Bin Laden was still alive? Yeah, still haven’t gone. Normally, we would do such a thing on the weekend, but, well…my weekend was wack. It was a wackend.

Saturday I had to work, which is inherently ugh. Yes, it was for a fun thing (graduation) and yes, I’ll get overtime, but it’s still working on Saturday. After that was over, we headed to the baby’s first piano recital, which was in his piano instructor’s storefront church in Swissvale. The baby, always one to tempt that struck-down-by-lightning thing, displayed the kind of religious tolerance that comes from only having brief glimpses of opulent Catholic churches and loudly commented, “This isn’t even a real church. It’s small. And plain.” I have a feeling this is going to be one of the things that comes up if The Rapture is, in fact, this Saturday. The recital was nice enough and not too long. The baby was adorably nervous but got through his piece, “Yellow Submarine,” just fine.

The husband had to DJ after that and I, after putting the baby to bed, passed out on the couch holding my drink. Classy!

Sunday should have been devoted to groceries and laundry but instead I had to attend a Ladies’ Luncheon. I was not in the mood, but went anyway because I decline them fairly often (they’re always at the worst times of the year) and I know it bums my grandmother out when I don’t attend. Of course, I started coming down with a bear of a headache and contributed little to the conversation, but that was good because I started babbling about Ghost Adventures and saying stuff like, “I wonder how much ass Zak gets in those small towns.” Nobody offered up any guesses.

I came home, still vaguely intending to go to the grocery store, but ended up nursing my headache the rest of the day.

Last night, the baby was supposed to have a baseball game but it was cancelled because the weather here has been less than cooperative. It’s rained so much that my grass is starting to look like something that people work on with sickles.

Speaking of baseball, Jwan came over for a little while last night and we were discussing the Pirates and their quick slide back down beneath .500. The husband commented that he still has faith in them ultimately having a winning season, that this recent streak of losses was a momentary hurdle. “More like a HURRDURRDLE,” I replied. The husband laughed but Jwan, who apparently is not aware of DERP, thought I was having a stroke or something.

see more Hurr

Saw this on Sociological Images.

That’s him all the way over on the left

At that time, Frank had just recently started seeing a lovely girl named Andrea.

A little over four years later, Frank and Andrea are getting married, and I am going to be Frank’s “groomswoman” (or “groomsbitch,” as he’s been calling me).

Groomsmen are usually [...]]]> My buddy Frank was my “bridesman.”

That’s him all the way over on the left

At that time, Frank had just recently started seeing a lovely girl named Andrea.

A little over four years later, Frank and Andrea are getting married, and I am going to be Frank’s “groomswoman” (or “groomsbitch,” as he’s been calling me).

Groomsmen are usually in charge of throwing the bachelor party, but as it came closer to being about that time, it turned out that Frank wasn’t going to be able to squeeze it in. Money, the fact that he would need to travel from New York to Pittsburgh, saving up vacation days, and so on all prevented our hedonism. I felt kind of bad about this and told Frank that he should do something “bachelory” and we would watch via video chat and cheer him on. Since he’s not into strippers, my suggestions were to leave clothes and pizza boxes strewn all over his apartment while we watched and screamed, “WOOOO! YEAAAHHHHH! WOOOOO!”

Sounds silly, right? What actually ended up happening was not that far off. Armed with a new laptop, Frank pinged me on Gmail’s video chat on Saturday night and we decided that that would be his online bachelor party. He grabbed some beers and I made some half-assed margarita concoctions. Our conversation turned to Kicking and Screaming (alternate title: Kicking and Screaming…No, Not that Will Ferrell Soccer Movie), which is a favorite movie of ours. Rather than spending the whole night exchanging our favorite quotes, we decided to watch it…together.

“Okay, on ’3′ I’m going to press play. Ready? 1…2…3!”

It was fun and nice and very much indicative of our friendship, but we agreed that it was kind of the most old person bachelor party ever…at least until I dozed off on the couch and Frank had to wake me up via video chat so that I could cart my old self to bed.

At least we took pictures of the wild and crazy time that we had.

I only had two beers at the MamaPop party the night before, but when we got back to the hotel, I was struck by how badly I missed the husband and the baby. I turned into a total sap and started getting weepy because I had arranged to stay until Tuesday to [...]]]> Struggles that I Overcame:

I only had two beers at the MamaPop party the night before, but when we got back to the hotel, I was struck by how badly I missed the husband and the baby. I turned into a total sap and started getting weepy because I had arranged to stay until Tuesday to see some of the city and was totally regretting it. So in the morning, I had post-beer, post-karaoke, post-cry headache. But nothing will keep me from a breakfast buffet, so I staggered out of the room leaving my snoozing roommates to sleep for me.

Sessions that I Attended:

Since I was in need of a lot of coffee, I ended up staying for the morning keynote that included a panel with the International Activist Blogger Scholarship recipients. Four women, Esra’a Al Shafei of mideastyouth.com, Dushiyanthini Pillai of humanityashore.org, Marie Trigona of mujereslibres.blogspot.com, and Freshta Basij-Rasikh of Afghan Women’s Writing Project spoke about their experiences as bloggers. These young women put their lives in grave danger with every keystroke as they document injustices in their countries. It was tempting to listen to their stories and feel sheepish about my blog, which I repeatedly described to people as “just about my life.” (Like, “Oh, don’t read it. It’s terribly dull.” I clearly haven’t mastered this pitching thing yet.) But I didn’t. I can’t rush over to Afghanistan and change things there, but I can listen and try to understand where they’re coming from. And I can appreciate the communication tools that I have at my disposal that allow me to write and relate.

I attended the Women and Sports session that Sarah helped to lead. It’s too bad that Rob Dibble didn’t say that nonsense about women at sporting events until a few days later, because it was almost exactly what we discussed for a portion of the session.

Since I just have my son, I don’t have too many tales about encouraging young girls to participate in sports. But since I didn’t eject myself from the sisterhood the second we saw a tiny weenis on the ultrasound screen, it’s definitely something that I would like to see more of.

The only other session that I went to was the Humor Writing which…meh. And unfortunately not that funny. But I think I was getting tired and hungry at that point.

Before Humor Writing, Amber and Danielle and I took a spin around the expo hall, which is just this huge orgy of marketing. It never fails to both awe me and weird me out. Sometimes there’s cool stuff there, though. Like sausage dipped in pancakes and this guy:

That was my only celebrity sighting.

I also checked out a few of the suites, namely the Firefox suite where I fudged my way through a survey about add-ons and got a teeny-tiny tshirt.

Parties that I Attended:

Saturday night was MamaPop’s Sparklecorn party which was just huge and crazy and sweaty and fun. Also, there was cake.

It was from Charm City Cakes and I’ve always been skeptical of them. I suspected that they were mostly hype and the cake wasn’t that good.

My friends, the cake was so good. SOOOO GOOOOD. It had several different flavors: blueberry muffin, bananas foster, and peanut butter and jelly. I tried the bananas foster and the peanut butter and jelly and they were both extremely delicious. Charm City Cakes: I am now a believer.

Ryan was on hand with his camera skills and documented the party in both stills and video. Like last year, I didn’t make the final cut, but maybe that’s because I look like this at parties:

Sweaty, drinky, scowly, with my arms sticking out. Photo by Amy.

Injuries Sustained:

One gigantic blister on my left foot. And one of my stockings didn’t even survive being put on, but I forged ahead with a huge run, looking somewhat deranged.

This is how parties end sometimes. Shoes, hair accessory, and tattered hosiery discarded, feet damp from doing the Hustle in a puddle of vodka.

People on Whom I Mouth-Breathed:

The husband rolled his eyes when he saw me packing my running gear. “You know you’re not going to go running while you’re there.” Ordinarily, this would be the case. But Saturday, before the party, I went for a quick jog through Central Park with Jess. It was really nice to jog with someone. One thing that is hurting my motivation for running right now is, I guess, getting bored and just wanting it to be over. Running with someone is different. We chatted (breathlessly) and took in the sights of the park. It was really cool. I wish I could do it all the time.

Because I’ve been stretching this recap out for so long, my memory of who I met when is pretty feeble. So I’m going to do a quick run-down of the business cards of the people I haven’t yet mentioned: Bookish Penguin, Delightfully Sweet, Life After Bagels, Sarah Granger, Multi Tasking Mama, Carrie Actually, Knotty Yarn, Dimple and a Smirk, Smarty Pants Mama, Average Jane, Stephanie Himel-Nelson from Blue Star Families, JavaMom, and Diana Lee.

I’d say I accomplished my goal of meeting blogging types that I didn’t already know. It was pretty cool, actually, just introducing myself to strangers that I knew I had at least one thing in common with, chatting with them for a few minutes, finding out a little bit about them before the busy days swept us apart. It’s not something that I would normally do, but what’s life without new experiences?

Pictures that I Took:

In the interest of wrapping this thing up, two whole weeks after the fact, I’m going to punk out and put my flickr slideshow here.

Struggles that I Overcame:

I realized that whatever lingering childhood shyness that I used to have that would cause me horrendous anxiety [...]]]> The actual conference was Friday and Saturday. My official, stated goals were to: not sleep through breakfast, meet people I didn’t already know from the internet, attend sessions, and nerd out as much as possible.

Struggles that I Overcame:

I realized that whatever lingering childhood shyness that I used to have that would cause me horrendous anxiety when thrown into a group of strangers has all but disappeared. If anything, it’s made me more empathetic to people who feel the same way. Look at me! Growing! Changing! Not mumbling into my oatmeal and avoiding eye contact or eschewing society all together to tremble in the ladies’ room!

The handful of people that I sat with at breakfast were lovely and we had no trouble chatting. After the opening keynote address, there was a “speed-dating” session that sounded like it would be chaotic, but I managed to just remain in my seat and allowed people to come to me, like I was the Godfather or something. The key to these things is to act like you’re super important. Next time, if there is a next time, I’m hiring somebody to stand behind me and look like Secret Service. Then watch the business cards pile up. That’s how 50 Cent got where he is today.

My other struggle was referencing American Psycho when I went to lunch with several MamaPoppers at this place called Johnny Utah’s. It was suggested that we go there because there was a mechanical bull. But I guess lunchtime on a Friday isn’t prime bull-riding time, because it just sat there like…well, like a giant inanimate bull in the room. I mentioned that the restaurant reminded me of the no-longer-popular restaurant that Patrick Bateman takes Paul Allen to in American Psycho and everyone got kind of quiet. Like, maybe referencing a misogynistic serial killer that was dreamed up by a bougie misogynistic a-hole is a faux pas in the midst of a women’s conference. I don’t know, I’m not always in tune to these subtle social cues.

Sessions that I Attended:

The first was a session on resume-writing and social media profiles and it was really, really good. My internet-writing experience is not insignificant. Far from it. But I really don’t know how to incorporate that into my resume and I don’t know how to get over my fear that people will see that and read, “I WRITE INAPPROPRIATE THINGS AND SHAME MY EMPLOYERS! CALL ME! LOL!!!ONE1 twitter.” So it was really helpful to hear from people who have done so successfully and see examples of resumes that do this in a professional way.

There were a couple other social media sessions that I wanted to go to, but I ended up lugging my camera to a photography session that ended up being more about composition than actual, hands-on technique. And I kind of already know a little bit about composition from taking a couple history and theory classes about photography in college. I was hoping for more practical advice on getting comfortable with adjusting manual settings for various shots. But I have a book for that, I just need to find it.

Parties that I Attended:

The MamaPop writers spent some quality time together, drinking, eating burritos, and doing karaoke. Funny. Drunken karaoke sounds a whole lot like shouting and giggling. This was actually my first foray into karaoke and Laurie and I belted out “Me and Bobby McGee.” I got a little too into it, I think, because after I handed off the mic, Amy looked at me and said, “That was…something else.”

Injuries Sustained:

I banged my knee on something getting out of a cab and got a small but healthy scrape. I dramatically declared that I would soon be coming down with hepatitis in that knee, but so far it seems okay.

People on Whom I Mouth-Breathed:

I know for sure that I met these people at breakfast or during the speed-dating: Pine Creek Cottage, Hide the Cheese, The Bellini Bunny, Dana from Rodale, and Naomi from Ketchum. I know I’m missing a few but I’ll do a round up of all of the cards that I’m having trouble placing with memories later. I also bumped into Jason and TwoBusy in the morning who were in search of that fine lady Mrs. Potato Head. Pimp! Adam P. Knave met up with us for drinks before the MamaPop party and I talked to him and his friend for exactly 2.5 seconds. I finally met Melissa and called her Christine.

Pictures that I Took:

This was the view from our hotel room. When we first walked past that LOVE sculpture, I pointed and yelled, “HEY! IT’S THIS THING!” I should be a tour guide.

Adam, Friend of Adam, and Palinode

BHJ and Amber

Schmutzie!

Jodi, Tracey, Palinode, and Ryan. I don’t know why there’s so much bending in this picture.

Kelli, Laurie, Schmutzie, Sarah, and Marilyn cracking up over something with a cardboard cutout of somebody. Based on the direction of their gaze, I imagine it’s something PG-13. I don’t remember taking this picture or what was going on, which is weird because I really didn’t even drink that much.

Karaoke action with Palinode, Tracey, Amy, Catherine, Schmutzie, Amy, Amber, and I believe Miss Banshee is back there, too.

This picture doesn’t do them justice but Jodi and Amy are, like, radiantly beautiful in real life.