Scene: H and I are enjoying a moment of quiet. Also known as bedtime for the kiddies. We’re discussing upcoming events in our lives, including Blogher.
H: You know, you should really post more about how awesome I am.
I raise an eyebrow.
H: I should also leave more comments because my awesomeness would totally radiate out from the computer.
On another note I had what can only be described as a pre-blogher anxiety dream.
I was traveling to Chicago from Virginia by train. How much would that sucketh? I missed my connecting train and the station, which at some point was floating on a sea of icebergs, lost my luggage. To top it all off some blogger I hate (who does not actually exists) was on my train with an ex-boyfriend of mine. I decided to be sweet and nice and chatted with them.
Five minutes into the conversation I find out they are getting married. As I’m about cough out a stunned “Congratulations!” (why on earth anyone would marry this guy is beyond me.) I realize that he is wearing a dress and ladies belted trench coat. And? The most hideous purple wedge heels ever known to man. I can’t make this stuff up people. I blinked. Looked at this blogger and realized she totally knew she was marrying a man who dressed as a woman and thought, “Well, OK. Better her than me I suppose…” and moved on.
Later I find out that TD has been kidnapped and I am posting about it on Twitter for leads. Twitter totally helped me find my kidnapped kid.
I kid you not Internets. That was one twisted social media mess of a dream.