BlogHer '10, Day Two, Part One: We Saw

I just got back from New York this morning following the BlogHer '10 conference and some sightseeing, and my brains are still scrambled from six-and-a-half-hour turned eighteen-and-a-half-hour trip, so you'll have to bear with me and just go ooh, aah, your photos of the conference are très intéressant, or something like that and probably less French.

The first day of the conference was a complete blur anyway, because I threw a bunch of coffee and sugared items down my gullet and then wandered through crowds of 2400 women, men, and life-size anthropomorphized children's characters. I will freely admit to my use of recreational psychotropics during the 1990s, but flirting with Mrs. Potatohead in an elevator just never feels very normal. Ever.

Although, we had some difficulty getting to BlogHer '10, we did not allow it to dampen our spirits. This guy nearly did, though. Gack:

expo weirdness

He was in the expo hall but seemingly unrelated to anything nearby, and, truth be told, he made me feel queasy. What ARE you? What the HELL do you want from me Rabbit Tutankhamun? Why are you throwing your hands up like I am the one who is so surprising? No, I will NOT hug you.

Humanity saved the day, though, in the form of Mammaloves and Loralee:

Mammaloves and Looneytunes

And Kate's booksigning. You've read her book, right?

sweetsalty Kate's book signing

And Amiee:

Amyknits

And Neilochka:

Neilochka

I just fell asleep while cutting and pasting links into this entry. Seriously. I blame Minneapolis, where the Palinode and I had to sleep on the floor last night after storms redirected us first to Sioux Falls and then back to Minneapolis where we missed our connecting flight. It took us TWELVE hours longer to get home than we had originally planned. I HAVE MY EYE ON YOU, MINNEAPOLIS.

Also seriously, my next conference post will be much better. There was a MamaPop writers party that was off the hook that I must tell you about. Does anyone say "off the hook" anymore? Probably not. Pretend that they do, because then we can pretend that I'M STILL COOL.

Dooce-caps: I haz them.