I think I fucked this up.

in I am totally overrated, Random Crap
I’ve never used Storify before so I decided to try it out.  I have no clue if this will work or why it won’t let me post the whole thing without you having to click “go to the next page”  at the bottom. (For the love of God, don’t click “view as a slideshow” or your computer will just shut down.  Apparently my computer hates slideshows as much as I do.  Just click inside the storify box and page down.)
I may never do this again.
[protected-iframe id=”1a4f41f64aae3dae09036978d1f5f614-58006636-1561224″ info=”//storify.com/TheBloggess/i-went-to-blogher-and-all-i-got-was-a-bunch-of-hum/embed” width=”100%” height=”750″][View the story “I went to Blogher and all I got was a bunch of human hair.” on Storify]

226 thoughts on “I think I fucked this up.”

Read comments below or add one.

  1. I want to see more of the robot Hailey programmed. Does it dance? And if so, does it do The Robot? That would be so meta.

    (It drags itself across the desk, like the top half of a zombie. ~ Jenny)

  2. Hahahha….” I thought that maybe he could carry my hair up but I’d have to take it off first and that seemed like a bit much to ask of both of us.” That really had me cracking up!!!!!

  4. I met you at BlogHer and thought you were just wonderful. So much different than what I expected but I loved it. I too am failing at life in the conference kinda way. It would be in our best interest if we could have drink and pot together. I hope to meet you again one day.
    P.S. I was more than likely the only 1-armed widow you met at BlogHer but you probably just remember me from my bright green chevron shirt.

  5. “And then you measure yourself against them and feel sort of shitty in comparison because your corpse hair is slipping and you can’t quite keep up with the conversation.” I felt this way during the conference. And still feeling it. Minus the corpse hair. I have all the hair and adding corpse hair too it would just be ridiculous and make it take even longer to do in the morning.

  6. ‘Tis a sticky wicket measuring one’s life against those of perpetual ball-handlers.

  11. Would that I had known you were in San Jose! I would have come over to your hotel room with some home-made raspberry liqueur, and we could have talked about everything. Except that I don’t talk much, so maybe we’d have sat there in friendly silence. But then we’d each probably start obsessing over the other person was tired of our company, and starting to judge us. Maybe it’s better that I didn’t know you were in San Jose. 🙂

  12. I’m bummed I missed the conference and it was IN. MY. CITY!!!!! Boo, and bad planning on my part.

    Human corpse hair… in Denver. Sounds legit.

    I am always constantly comparing myself to others… before, during, and after hearing about their lives and stories. It sucks. I find myself doing it more and more now that I’m surprisingly pregnant again…

  14. This is wonderful. I plan trips and look forward to them. Fantasize about how awesome they are. Then, about a week before the trip, I’ll begin dreading them. Hating them. Hoping that disaster strikes so I can get out of them. No matter where the trip was supposed to take me. I like the idea of people. I just don’t like the people of people.

  15. I think this worked great! You should do Storify again. Half of your awesomeness is on Twitter.

  16. I just figured out how to read the rest and jenny, I’M DROPPING MY BALLS TOO! Let’s eat chips, you dead people hair wearing sweetheart.

  21. I love how heavily you focused on the balls. Mostly because my balls happen to have this weird fetish about wearing miniature human corpse hair wigs and I’m totally okay with that. Because I feed it chip crumbs on my couch in my shoes? What are shoes?

    Basically what I think I’m trying to say is thank you for always being that weird ball sac in a mini-corpse-hair wig for me. Thanks a whole lot.

  22. I’m sorry I missed you too Jenny. I live in the Bay Area and I can tell you that Crickett’s homemade raspberry liqueur is to die for. (Hi Crickett!)

  24. Isn’t that funny? I am 100% certain that everyone at that conference was looking at you and wishing they could be you and thinking you were an excellent ball fondler. I mean handler. And you were looking at them with their fancy shoes and thinking the same thing. Humans are weirdos.

  27. My daughter, 12, saw the pic of you with your corpse hair and said you’re really pretty.

  28. As I age, I am realizing that no one, absolutely no one, really has their shit together. We’re all a mess. Heck, even friggin Princess Kate got photographed with her butt showing!

  29. It’s okay. I understand your references.
    And anxiety or not, the fact that you were the keynote speaker, got to see the robot, and bought human hair without shame makes you my role model. Also because I have anxiety and usually I blurt out my latest sexcapade which is apparently inappropriate in most company but it’s the only thing exciting in my life I remember at the time to talk about.

  30. The fact that we all have our hands on some balls is a win-win in my book. You are smarter and wiser and funnier than I will ever be, and I love you for it. Keep being exactly who you are Jenny. That’s who we love. You. No matter how many balls there are.

  31. Jenny, you just summed up life for many of us; sitting in our room wearing corpse hair and sipping hot tea while we listen to the parties going on outside our room, worrying how to keep from dropping the few balls we are frantically tossing about when so many other women effortlessly juggle their multitudes of shiny, perfect balls.

  33. Not only do I drop balls on a daily basis, when I pick them up, they’re covered in cat hair.

  34. You always know just what i need. To me, youre shiny. I would give anything to write as honestly as you do.

  35. What I take from this is of course the very deep stuff about everyone having doubts and not being as perfect as they present….. And also BALLS!… they are just fucking funny. I can’t wait to drop my balls so we can get a drink and watch the shiny people stare at their own. It will be glorious giggles

  37. I loved this. And here is crazy Mom advice I give my own daughter who keeps measuring herself against…oh God, I don’t know what. There will always be someone smarter, prettier, more successful than you. And they can fuck off because I think you’re perfect. See? You’re perfect.

  39. I have NO balls in the air and I constantly feel like I’m dropping them anyways. I consider days I get out of bed a huge accomplishment. The fact that you got up, did your thing, is beyond inspirational to this girl. Thank you for helping through a lot of really bad times.

  40. My wise husband is always cautioning me not to judge my insides by someone else’s outsides. I think that is a great way to think about it, because you never know what other people are dealing with behind their own facades. But I struggle with it constantly.

  42. I’ve completely lost track of my balls, but I do have several handfuls of real human hair. It’s the wrong color and wearing it makes me look like a scraggly-haired Trump with Travolta’s toupee stuck on top.

    This look will probably be all the rage in like 2079.

  43. Many very successful people are in constant fear of being discovered they are a fake. The others are psychopaths. You’re (note the apostrophe) too nice to be a psychopath – so just deal with it.

  44. I didn’t think I could love you more but dammit there you go again. Big hugs, I’m glad you got hair on your layover. (why won’t it ever link to my latest blog post? Not that it’s a great post, but I thought you would like it because it involves swearing)

  46. For the record, I had no issues reading this in the viewing window on your blog. It asked me once to “view more” or some such button, and when I clicked it, more magically appeared.

    Also, reading your conclusion made me think that I had to tell you that you should read Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed (if you haven’t already) I’m 3/4 of the way through and think that pretty much everyone needs to read it. She is fabulous and makes me think of you and your writing 🙂

  47. Thank you. I just spent last night shoulding on myself for not having all my balls together. Thank you for making that not only okay, but a sign of being ahead of the people who are still trying to look like they do. Yay, vulnerability! xxox

  48. you know what Jenny…those ladies that look polished and have their shit together….they are falling apart somewhere else! And if they are not they must be robots and there is no point holding yourself up against them! I mean who wants to be compared to a robot? I think your mom sounds like a way better benchmark!

  49. Honey? All those people running around with their lives together? They’re totally faking it. You’re perfect, corpse hair and all.

  50. I also laughed at you handling or not handling your balls. My best friend stopped over today. We are both having mid life crises, she brought over a six pack of Bud Light, some Chuckles, and three scratch off lottery tickets. She should have been at work and I was still in my pajamas. We talked about the SNL skits we would write. It was a VERY productive day. Oh and we won $9 from the scratch offs, BONUS!

  51. I just noticed your last two blogpost titles start with “I think.” Clearly, you’ve been thinking too much. Especially since you’re thinking about balls.

  52. Don’t feel bad about spending conference time in your hotel room. I went to a five day conference in Las Vegas (which is allegedly supposed to be a “fun” place), and by the third day, I was spending 20 hours a day in bed in front of the air conditioning and only managed to drag myself to 4 hours worth of conference in the mid-afternoons…..

  53. I need corpse hair. Mine is thinning something fierce, like its a contest to see who can fall about fastest – me or my hair. Wait. Maybe its just my gallbladder trying to kill me again.
    Awesome that your munchkin is programming corpse robots. Mine asked me how to start the apocalypse last night. I suspect I’m doing something wrong in the parenting department.

  54. The story came out good on my iPad and computer, so I think we have avoided your triggering of the robot apocalypse this time around. By the way, for anyone who was wondering, you can’t get pot at the airport because everything that happens past the security line falls under federal law, (where they are still busy denying that global warming exists) so the airport authority said screw it – no pot anywhere. The dead, bald people remain a mystery, however. A strange, creepy mystery.

  55. You have this post categorized under “I am totally overrated.”
    Bullshit.
    You have it wrong, the world has it right when it comes to you.
    But the reason you’re so awesome is because you think you’re overrated.
    So stay overrated and awesome and never be plastic.
    Everyone is so damn plastic.

  56. So, you totally have this storify thing down. That was lovely and I’d love to adopt your mom, as long as she doesn’t insist that I wear Holly Hobbie dresses.

    In regards to the stuff at the end – being surrounded by tons of people who have their shit together is what made me finally get around to enrolling in college. I got tired of feeling like I’ve done nothing worthwhile outside of motherhood. I have my first group presentation tomorrow. Please to be crossing your fingers for me. I hate passing out in front of strangers. It’s embarassing.

  57. Balls… hehehehehe
    Ahem. I mean, politics and uh, progress reports?
    I suck at adulting.

  58. I feel like I’m constantly dropping my balls. And at BlogHer, I felt like everyone had bigger and shinier balls. But your keynote was so funny and inspiring and gave me just the lift I needed to re-focus on my goal: writing. I need to just keep writing and telling my story. And so I shall.

    P.S. Thanks for stopping to take a picture with me as I came out of the bathroom. I promise I washed my hands.

  59. My husband hears a lot about you. I’m not sure, “Honey! She has CORPSE HAIR!” is going to enthuse him about my whole blogging gig…

    Probably b/c he knows if I ever got ahold of corpse hair, I’d slip it on his pillow while he slept, and take pictures…then watch him until he woke up.

    Cause I’m evil like that.

  60. I had this realization recently that I kind of hate motivational speakers… like, the traditional motivational speaker… I-started-a-business-at-24-and-now-I’m-a-billionaire-at-28-so-lean-in motivational speaker. Because I feel like a lazy asshole. I get up and I go to work and I work hard, but I don’t save the planet. I’m kind to strangers and sometimes mean to loved ones (I apologize) and then I go to the gym and I do okay but the 9 months pregnant lady next to me can lift more weights than I can. And I go home and eat dinner and watch TV and read blogs and annoy people on Facebook and sometimes work some more and then I go to bed. And that’s a good day. I’m okay with that.

    Until some overachiever ruins everything by telling me that if I eat more meat I’ll be the next CEO of the next big thing.

    I live in Denver and I don’t smoke weed or eat brownies, but I do know two very successful pot-shop owners which is kind of funny. I’m afraid to visit their shops because I’m pretty sure John Boehner will have me arrested. Or spray self-tanner at me.

    Sorry. That was off topic.

  62. What?! We’re supposed to have balls in the air? Just when I think I’ve got my crap together someone comes up with another impossible thing I just have to have. The corpse hair I’m good with though.

  63. The art scene is so much like this. Going to an opening or meetup or show is basically the same as saying I feel like beating myself up and feeling like nothing for the next month or so. I’d love it if people could be done with worrying about success or coolness or whatever and just exist with each other.

  64. Being from Colorado, I apologize for the pot incident. We don’t smoke it but we know how to acquire it should that ever come up again and should you ever leave the airport. Just let us know!!!

  66. What if you stopped measuring yourself against other people and just tried measuring yourself against yourself? Are you happier today than you were yesterday? Have you done more good this year than you did last year? Have you spent less time in bathrooms during the past 3 conferences than you did in the first 3?

    I used to measure myself against other people, but then I had an epiphany that I was measuring my worst-case-scenario (all the crazy-anxious inside-my-head over-hyphenated self-doubt and self-loathing) against their best-foot-forward (the public face that they show the world) and that it wasn’t really fair to me. When I trained myself to quit doing that, and focus on just improving myself and being the best Amy I could be, and doing a little bit better than last time, everything got easier.

    That said, I totally had a full-blown panic attack at Comic Con in front of my kids, and said “Fuck that shit, I am never going to another Con of any sort again.” Self-care is important. Sometimes hiding in your room and not subjecting yourself to the things that make your anxiety disorder go bonkers IS actually doing better than before, and that’s just fine.

    I met you at the first BlogHer in Chicago (was that 2009?) at the party you threw, and you were amazing and beloved, whether you were in the ballroom or the bathroom, and you will continue to be loved, just as you are, because you are brave enough to be who you are. Not everyone can be that brave. So you’re braver than you were, then, too. I’d say that’s a success.

    Sending love, and reassurance that I understand and have been in those same anxious shoes (and I didn’t even have to speak! GAH!)

  68. I don’t want to click but the comments are influencing me. I may have a few drinks so if anything explodes, I won’t care.

  70. You are a success because of the smile on your girlie’s face. That’s all that matters. xoxo

  71. I once heard that we’re comparing our bloopers reels to everyone else’s highlights. It helps me to remember that. And I’m often surprised by how together people think I am, when I clearly am not. So I think it’s a pretty common feeling. Together or apart, you are awesome, and so are your balls.

  72. Thanks Jenny….I just dropped a few of my balls and have been feeling shitty so for now I am going to let those balls just stay on the ground for awhile and know that I am not alone….

  73. I’ve never heard of Storify until this post, but if they are all like this, then Storify wins the internet. But I’m pretty sure it’s just because of you. So you win the internet.

  74. Thank you Jenny, this is a very timely post for me. Someone questioned something I did recently that I was all puffed up and proud that I accomplished and now I just want to rip it all off the internet, even though what they said wasn’t bad and it didn’t cause any issues, but I still feel like I am a failure instead of being proud I accomplished this really cool thing.

  75. I just broke up with my boyfried after two years and right now I’m feeling really shitty and questioning all of my life choices and thinking maybe if I had done things differently I’d be happier… and then I saw this and started laughing and felt happy to see I’m not alone in this, even if it’s for different reasons. So, thank you for making a shitty day a little less shitty.

  76. All those successful people? The only ones who don’t doubt themselves are the psychopaths. Everyone else has doubts about themselves and their hair and their shoes and their business cards.

  78. No one offered me vaseline on my airplane trip either. The toddler DID offer me some ABC pistachios, and if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.She loves pistachios.

  81. So I saw you on the sidewalk, we sqeeled, we hugged…. My BlogHer life is complete. And with my huge-ass oversized camera in hand it never occurred to me to get a picture with you.

    I may need to Photoshop this. :). In other news, you said ‘if you’re a human and…’. Do you have any non-human readers? Is your daughter’s zombie robot self aware? Should we, as a people, be concerned?

  83. Don’t worry, your post works just fine on my computer, and that’s really all that matters.
    And I once went to an academic conference in Boca Raton and stayed in my hotel the entire time–IN BOCA RATON–because I was there by myself. Social anxiety is a complete asshole, and probably owes us both monetary compensation for all the shit it makes us miss out on.
    But I must say that I’m 8 months pregnant and I laughed so hard at your Vaseline tweet that I thought the kid was going to fall out. Not cool.

  84. Sincerely, thank you for writing this. Sometimes I feel all kind of angsty and uneasy and depressed and other words that I am not even sure exist and I question only every single aspect of my life and then come to the conclusion that I’m doing all of it wrong and wasting time and getting older and pretty soon I won’t be able to correct and do it all right and then I spend a week not talking to anyone and calling in sick so I don’t even have to go to work and deal with those people. So I’m glad other people do the same crap in their heads and that even if I am crazy, I’m not a new or special kind of crazy; I’m the same kind of crazy as other people. In fact, I’m the same kind of crazy as really cool, funny, famous internet people and that’s actually kind of awesome!

  85. As someone WITH balls, I feel like I have some kind of expert status here.. I recently quit my job, and let all the balls fall to the ground, so I can figure out which ones are worth picking up again. It brings tremendous peace. But no money. Cross that bridge when I get there.

  86. Love this. And you. And I’m not just failing at life but doing so epically. Which I guess is better than failing half-assed, but if given the choice I’d rather be epic at organizing or cleaning or picking lottery numbers. But I’m epic at failure. But at least it’s something.

  87. I have a box of hair. When someone says ‘dumber than a box of hair,’ I wonder if the box is dumb or if I’m dumb for owning it. Then I go pick out a weird-ass hair thing from the box and wear it around because I can when so many others can’t.
    (Side note: I actually buy the hair when I’m at conferences each year — I TOTALLY get the impulse.)

  89. That was awesome, thank you! I like reading about your travels as much as I like traveling myself. And being a cafeteria worker sounds like a good gig right now – why are people always trying to be CEOs or reality stars?

  90. During your short-term hibernation while on the road, I was having what I thought was a complete nervous breakdown and/or a series of panic attacks and/or questioning everything that is wrong with my life. Basically, I was in high hysterics (as my mother would call them — and no, she wasn’t home to answer my call [or maybe she knew not to answer that night…?]) and really didn’t think I was going to make it through the night because I knew full well that the heart attack was right around the corner.

    I was left to my own devices for survival of the minute, hour, hours, please let me sleep phase just to get through this, when I discovered your Tweets. I don’t wish any of this on anyone, but suddenly I found support in reading your Tweets about your asshole anxiety being a dick. It was then that my freaking out didn’t seem like such a lonely crisis AND I knew that I could make it through the night because you were kind of there with me, too.

    Thank you.

  91. If the hair you bought was blond, it’d be my son’s who grew it out and then sent it to locks for love so wait that is supposed to go to cancer kids, OH JENNY WHY DID YOU TAKE THE CANCER CHILDREN’S HAIR???

  92. I’m just going to sit here enjoying the mental picture of the shiny people staring intently at their balls. Thank you for that!

  93. Thank you for coming to Denver and being more fascinated with the human hair than with pot. On behalf of my incredibly lovely city, I would much rather you remember us for possibly-made-from-corpses hair than for weed.
    Also, don’t compare your everyday life to someone’s highlight reel. I saw that on Pinterest once, so it feels legit.

  94. The only real reason I wanted to go the Blogher was to see you speak. Actually that’s not true. I actually wanted to accidently “bump into” you in the elevator or something and it would be all quiet or whatever because I never acknowledge famous people because I think it maybe kinda sucks for them not to be just a person in an elevator. But I may have said something like, “nice hair” in a “Singles” kind of way (the movie – not the lifestyle) and it would lead to maybe us huddling under our blankets and watching Dr. Who together and looking at cat videos on the internet because I would probably skip all the parties anyways. Have I said too much? Probably. Loved your tweets though and your hair looks fucking banging by the way.

  95. Love this post!!

    The empty fridge pic made me laugh– I remember our first stay in a big hotel. We were farm kids, and we were like “WOW LOOK AT ALL THE SNACKS. These guys think of EVERYthing.” We also thought that the PPV movies wouldn’t count if we only watched the first 5 minutes of each one.

    Our bill was so big that we almost couldn’t afford to get our car out of the garage….

  96. I totally and completely feel like this right now. I have so many balls right now, I should have a ball pit to keep them in so I stop having to chase them around when I drop them. sigh When I grow up, I wanna be like you. You are able to identify what makes you feel bad and crazy and make it funny. That’s a gift. 🙂

  98. I don’t get Instagram either. And NOBODY has their shit together…they just know how to fake it better than most. I’m always glad to just be breathing and getting through the day. And loving bits of life that come at me. So long as it’s your own balls in the air, and nobody else’s, especially some stranger….you’re ahead of the game…. How was the robot? Pics please…

  99. None of us have our shit together.
    But I have a question…I am tired of my long hair and I’m thinking of selilng it…how much does it cost at that kiosk? Maybe I should just send it to you directly.

  100. I used to be a pastor’s wife and would have to go to all sorts of church lady conferences and I would feel totally like a failure comparing myself to those incredible ladies who seemed to have it all together. One day, I decided that I was going to become that amazing woman that was the envy of everyone. I read every book I could find on planning and organization and time management. I got up early and ran all day. I baked from scratch and grew a garden and designed my own wrapping paper for my hand made gifts. My Christmas cards were hand addressed in calligraphy and mailed on black Friday. I was a fiend. Everything was perfect and awesome and I was the envy of everyone everywhere I went.
    then my pastor husband divorced me because he wasn’t “happy”.
    Throw the balls away, honey. Hug Hailey and Victor. You’re doing just fine. <3

  101. I have almost all of my balls in the air. I threw them in the ceiling light fixture! One of them got away. I think it became the scary hairball under my fridge.

  102. All those people with the gorgeous hair thought they were donating to Locks of Love and it ends up in the Denver airport???!!!

  103. Another great post! I laughed super hard about having two thumbs! I also really, really, really enjoyed the last part talking about having your shit together and constantly measuring your self against others. I needed to read that today. So Thank you for making me laugh and helping me feel good about my balls 🙂

  104. You are awesome! Remember, if someone says otherwise, faces are full of protein.

  105. Lmao, you’re just so funny and awesome and I’m sorry anxiety is such an asshole for you and for so many of us.
    Stupid, misfiring neurons and whatnot in the brain. Thank God for (legal) drugs.
    But look at that picture of your daughter and that robot. She’s awesome, and YOU did that. Feeling like you’re dropping the ball is a feeling, and it is human to have these feelings, but you’re not defined by these feelings.
    Now excuse me while I try to look in the mirror and try to cut myself some slack. Easier said than done, yes? Yes.

  107. Thank you for putting it so very well. My balls are dropping all over the place!
    And…I didn’t really find anything special about storify. Just you.

  108. I’m so dumb sometimes! I saw your tweet about the hair in the airport—later saw the tweet you posted with the pic of you sitting on stage and I thought, wow Jenny’s hair has gotten really long! I NEVER MADE THE CONNECTION UNTIL NOW.

    Did anybody else picture Billiard balls? Or is it just me?

    I am constantly battling the ‘piece-of-shit’ syndrome. Especially now when I’m trying to find something to help my depression and it’s not working yet. And my brain tells me that I’m just lazy and screwed up and if I could just get off my lazy ass I would be fine! Thank God for you and the tribe here. There’s a tiny piece of me that remembers I’m not alone.

  109. No one has all their balls together. They’re either lying or comatose. Just sayin. Excellent post Jennie!

  110. Holy Crap, I was included in your story! This is almost as good as the time I found $20 on the sidewalk! And if ever you found a random $20 bill just laying around in public you’ll know exactly what I mean. 🙂

  112. Firstly, why does everyone always say, “Such n’ such is being a dick”? Like they are BAD things? Personally, I am very partial to them.
    Also…getting together with some old classmates over the past couple of years (Facebook isn’t the devil, actual good has come out of it by reconnecting with folks I’d missed) and several of them told me that in high school I “totally had my shit together.” I did not have my shit together.
    I don’t have my shit together now. I just stumble around making my way the best that I can. I was just PERCEIVED as having my shit together. And that is true with everyone.
    Everyone is dealing with something. Everyone looks at the person next to them & they don’t see all of the worries and feelings of inadequacy that are in EVERYONE’s head…to whatever degree.

    BTW, Jenny…the picture I tweeted you of the giant chicken and the boobie bungalow? I decided to make a whole post about it, and also brag about my own kidlet (No one panic, she had NO PART of the Boobie Bungalow portion of the post) in the link attached to this comment.

  114. Wonderful post… I find that I always have too many balls. Some are large, some are small. But the number is much too high. I’d rather have a few large balls than many more small ones. Trying to aim my life in that direction, but so far it isn’t working. Unfortunately, a few of the balls aren’t mine. They were just tossed to me and I have to keep them up in the air for a while.

  118. That little munchkin is totally worth ditching the last day for. Totally.

    But the so-called mini bar that you call a fridge. Really?

    =)

  119. Oh, this has been my favorite post of yours thus far. I giggled every time you said Corpse Hair. Every. Time. Great post. (and it’s comforting to know everyone is struggling with their balls too)

  120. Damn, now I want that sign with your picture on it. Is it still up? Maybe I can talk someone into driving to SJ and stealing it… Sounds like an adventure. Also, balls are overrated.

  123. You realize they don’t invite no-account shit-wads to speak at BlogHer, right? You must have something they want.

    I’ll bet it’s balls. Everyone wants balls, don’t they?

  124. You’re wonderful. I appreciate your sharing with us. And if you are sophomoric, then so am I. 😛

  125. Jenny, you really are all kinds of awesome. Perhaps you can put your corpse hair on your juggling balls, sit them on a shelf in your office and every time you glance at them you can say to yourself, ” I’m pretty damn cool.” Because you are.

  127. Jenny, my sister saw you speak at a women’s convention that she went to for BP in Houston. She said you were great, very funny, and you had warned them you might say “fuck” a lot. She said everyone loved you and in fact she bought your book after that. So short story is, relax, breathe, You are doing MUCH better than you think you are. 🙂

  128. You did not fuck it up and I hugely enjoyed your travel report. The feeling is universal I think and in my case almost paralyzing (and I am going for a wéék between creative, succesful, beautiful, slim people..) but I am trying to break through that.

    Remains my burning question: did the robot walk?!

  129. I think it’s just that you can’t see their dropped balls. People aren’t perfect, and everyone has anxieties. I’ve only recently discovered your blog, but I think you’re wonderful and amazing and awesome! 🙂

    And I don’t mind the new format, but as I said, I’m new and didn’t have time to get used to the old one.

  132. I love you, Jenny. All you really have to succeed at is being Jenny Lawson and you are passing that test with flying colors. You write beautifully. You make us laugh. You make us cry. You inspire us. My husband always knows when I’m reading your blog because he says I have a special laugh for the Bloggess. You are such a gift to the planet. Thank you.

  133. I really do adore you. Because I feel like I can relate to you as a person who suffers from social anxiety and yet has to work every day outside of my house. It’s so hard. But then, I read about you and corpse hair and empty hotel room refrigerators and suddenly, it’s okay. You make me smile, or laugh with you and that gives me the courage to get out of bed and drag my ass out to work. Because mortgage. And cats who expect to be fed.
    Reading what you write helps me. I wanted you to know.
    Thank you so much for everything you do.

  134. It was a good thing I came by tonight because I have been drowning in anxiety and fending off that feeling of AAAHHhhh, all my balls are dropping and how does everyone else do it?!11! So hearing about all the balls dropping (everywhere!) is very encouraging and therapeutic. I loved hearing about your mom, and your self-care, and the way you bring out the best in us commentators. And that post-accomplishment let-down. Yah, it’s a thing. Thank you, truly. What everybody else said.

  136. psssst! hey Jenny? We’re all faking it. really. And those folks over there? Faking it. And the guys up there? yeah, totally faking it. Nobody knows what the h&& they are doing, and if they think they do, they are bats^% crazy. So don’t let anyone intimidate you. k?

  137. I’m kinda glad I’ve never stayed at a hotel that had a minibar, because I’d probably be all like, “Hey! Free food!” And then get the bill later and have to flee the country, living off the grid the rest of my life, wandering from place to place, putting right what once went wrong, and hoping that my next leap would… oh wait, that’s Quantum Leap. Never mind.

  138. Thank you for that. I thought I was the only one dropping balls. Maybe we should find a giant pool to make a huge ball pit.

  140. When I first designed my blog, the icon I wanted showed a woman juggling balls with the names of her various responsibilities on them. Some were falling and rolling away. Unfortunately, I’m a horrid artist and i couldn’t make it even vaguely resemble the image in my head. But I know exactly what you are saying.

  141. I was doing great with Storify until I got overly ambitious with my scrolling, which sent me all the way to the next post and then I panicked and my Macbook is so damn fancy that it’s trained to hit the back button if I swipe my fingers to the left so I ended up on whatever godforsaken website sent me here in the first place.

    Anyways. I know I already blogged about this, but you were wonderful. Honestly, the best part of the conference was when you carried your purse out onto the stage with you. I looked at my roommate/ally and was like “she is my people.”

    All of the success and ball juggling frightens me. I just can’t. By Day 2 I spent more time outside in the sun, working on a BlogHer video that is about anything but BlogHer. At one point, I was sitting on a big pile of shite (okay, a statue of a snake, but it looked like shite) and a wandering dude came up and asked why and I told him it represented me and he had the most concerned look in his face and asked “you don’t really think that about yourself, do you?” He was so wonderful, I wish you could meet him. Actually, he gave me his brother’s phone # in case the video makes him internet famous, so I’m sure I could arrange this.

  143. This is totally unrelated but I just came across this artist: David Emmite
    And I thought you’d might like his work (or you probably already know of it)

  144. You talk about people around you being successful and having their shit together, but I bet if you “looked behind the curtain” you would see they are no different from most people just you don’t get to see it most of the time.
    I know what its like to measure yourself against someone else, recently I have been feeling like I could of been more, after I finished school I spent 6 years on welfare (in NZ it was easy) because I was too lazy to get a job, now I have a family (2 kids), a wife and a house and not earning nearly enough doing a job I don’t really like wishing I had done what my friend had done (gone to university and got a job he enjoys) and been in a better place by now, but then I think… well I haven’t done too bad, I still have a wife and 2 ids… and a house, there are people who are far worse off than me… just like there are people who are better off than me (like yourself!!!!).
    It doesn’t matter what other people have achieved all that matters is if you have done your best.

  145. You look beautiful in your red dress. And the corpse hair is surprisingly pretty! Love comment #66 from Amy about only comparing yourself to you. So true. Oh! And the Storify thing totally worked fine on my Android phone. Also, I don’t do Twitter, so I enjoyed seeing your tweets and the tweets you chose of others. And, you rock.

  146. Love this. And you were great. For what it is worth, I was not a presenter at the conference, but I’d go to a session to learn what I could then rabbit back to my room to hide for a while. I find it comforting that I was not the only person freaked out by the hugeness of it.

    So thank you.

  147. anxiety disorder (and any other mental disorder) may be the reason why one got wings like yours. you got wings and others got swings..same destination though.

  149. Thank you for this post! I am in the middle of a separation/divorce (which is not my choice or doing) and I SO needed to be reminded to not compare myself to everyone else’s balls, and a laugh, too. So, thank you. Also, it took me a minute to realize the pic was OF corpse hair- very natural looking!

  150. The sad thing is that I would love to do drugs but because I am some sort of responsible adult, I have literally no idea where to obtain drugs or drogas, as I say. “Excuse me officer, but could you point me in the direction of the nearest dealer?”.

  151. Having read your blog for the past year or so (and having read your book), I’ve always found you funny and inspiring! From my perspective, you have your shit together more than most people…certainly more than me. From the outside looking in, my job probably makes me look fairly successful and professional, but I struggle every day with feeling like I’m not worthy. Like it’s some kind of secret that I am doing this and, at any moment, the company will figure it out and be like “you don’t belong here”. It’s been worse in the past five months, as my husband was laid off, and now I’m the primary breadwinner, a position I never wanted nor desired to have. I’m struggling pretty bad right now, and I’m really glad you post things like this, Jenny. Because it helps knowing I’m not alone. Thank you for all you do! #depressionlies

  152. Is there variable pricing for the hair according to color? Red hair more rare and thus more valuable? I’m sure there must be by length and thickness, but what other factors drive the price of hair beyond supply and demand? Any celebrity hair available as a collectible? So many questions about this niche business.

  154. You are so loved because of exactly this. I hope you remember that. I was recently told by a dear friend that I seemed like someone who had all her shit together and was generally a totally ass kicking kind of girl, when inside I am usually curled up in a fetal position, all the balls in the floor or rapidly on their way there. Projection, projection, projection and faking it until…well, I never seem to make it in my own head, but I apparently have other people fooled. I suspect many other people are in the same boat. Love you so much, Jenny. You’re the best.

  155. So your daughter wins belt buckle trophy’s riding AND programs robots?!? She is AWESOME!!!!!!

    Good Job!

  156. Everyday I think to myself – “I’ve got them all fooled!” – because somehow, I appear successful, smart, well-paid and everyone else thinks I have my shit together. I talked to my brother about this – my brother who is more successful than I am, paid a higher salary, smarter – and he told me he thinks the EXACT same thing all the time. In fact, all people who appear successful are thinking it – just no one says it.

    It’s like Beetlejuice. Don’t say “I’ve got them all fooled” three times in a row or the whole system falls apart.

  157. Ironically, the last time I went to BlogHer, I DID see a corpse in the Denver airport.

  158. I wouldn’t taken you up on the Vaseline offer. But it probably wouldn’t have been comfortable for either of us as I’m sure I would have babbled nonsensically about Vaseline until you actually jumped off the plane.

  159. Thank you, Jenny, for feeling the way I feel and sharing those feelings. You make me feel I am not alone in the lousy-at-ball-handeling department. I guess it is true that we all have our our baggage and that baggage is a ball sack.

  160. I really, really needed this today. It is helping me get out of bed and face the day.

  161. Thank you so much for your comments on post-conference angst. I deal with this in my job ALL THE TIME. I go to meetings and see all the big wigs from big time organizations and I get jealous. I forget that I actively chose not to work at a big time place because I think small time organizations do really important (and different) work. I need that shark Meme to just randomly pop up on my computer.
    Someone needs to make that- that random affirmation app for your phone or computer.

  162. It’s the whole “keeping up with the Joneses” syndrome. Their lives look perfect so you start thinking if you just did this, or bought that, that your life would be perfect too. Only it doesn’t work that way and you end up feeling bad about yourself because you aren’t in on the secret, or something. Just be you. Comparing yourself to those people doesn’t accomplish anything. You’re kickass just the way you are.

  163. I had to sit in my car and stare at a tree this morning (the car was parked so this wasn’t dangerous) because I am so riddled with post-BlogHer angst/ennui/anxiety/fatigue. This story from behind the scenes gives me even more hope that it’s OK to not be normal. I don’t even HAVE balls and I feel like I’ve dropped them.

  164. I’m in the middle of a “I hate my career” crisis and I’ve started journaling and trying to figure it all out and I’m thinking maybe I want to start my own blog. but then I read your blog and I simultaneously feel wonderful (because your rock) and terrible (because compared to you I suck). But reading this made me all teary and hopeful and inspired so thanks for making my cry at work bitch 🙂

  167. You can’t have pot at the DIA, however I guarantee you that Colorado has as many dispensaries as Starbucks (Strabuckses?). Trust me, I live in a small town in Colorado, we have two dispensaries and one half of a Starbucks (it’s inside Safeway so its not a real coffee shop).
    Or if you don’t want to pay for it you can just go the areas with a lot of trees in a park and just breath in deeply. Contact high= weed for poor people.

  168. Reading this just made my day. I’m dropping my balls, too many balls, laughing because I said balls. I’m 49, my daughters are 19 & 23 and I keep wondering when I’m going to feel like a grown up. More wine please!

  169. I’m trying not to be too sappy because I can’t be doing the ugly cry at work, but … your blog about getting the book right so people would understand about mental illness – I kept it open on my desktop all day yesterday at work. My anxiety disorder has been awful this week. It’s worse than it’s been in a long time. I can’t share that with my boss. I don’t want to share it with my family (it’ll only worry them). By being honest and brave enough to talk about these things here, Jenny, you are a lifeline. I really, really mean that. So, as well as being an entertainer and giving us belly laughs when we need them (I’m buying another copy of the book to give to my visiting sister for her homeward flight in the hopes that she gets shushed on the plane for snorting) – you ARE doing something amazing and achieving something great. You’re being there for a whole tribe of lovely but terrified people. We’re not your responsibility (don’t want to make you even more anxious!) but your honesty lets us know We’re. Not. Alone. And for that you need medals with kitties on them. Lots and lots. And margaritas because why not? THANK YOU.

    PS: People also think I achieve lots and am ‘together’. I can’t for the life of me imagine how or why they come to this conclusion. Clearly their mental illness is getting in the way of recognizing my mental illness!

  170. Thank you for chatting Doctor Who, Belle, and The Library with me! It was truly the highlight of the conference for me.

    I didn’t do any of the parties, either. Everyone was super nice, but I was experiencing a great deal of “fish out of water” emotions. The one thing I got out of the conference that was really good for me was basically, write what you want and fuck everything else. BlogHer probably didn’t say that exactly, but that’s what I heard. That post-conference angst sure is rough, though.

  171. Jenny you are so very funny! one day I will get some kid to teach me how to twitter and I will be able to follow you there and apparently trade witty remarks with you. I know how the inside tells you things that you start to believe to be true. Only believe them if it is the good stuff. It was funny for you to talk about the “successful” grown ups with shoes and stuff, who do good stuff. JENNY YOU ARE THAT PERSON! (JK, I hope you don’t ever have grown up shoes) I don’t know if I would be able to make speech patterns if I ever got the chance to meet you in person. I wish there was a way for me to show you what you look like from my head. The way you talk about your mom? You are your mom in Haley’s eyes you know.

    Oh, and just for the record… I think your corpse hair looks very nice, and I would definitely go away for a weekend, on an airplane, with nothing more than a carryon. Not a purse though, I don’t carry a purse, it has been so long since I did, I would probably load that puppy up with all my real important grown up stuff and walk off without it the first place I set it down. I use my car as a purse. Anything you got in your purse I got in my car. Well, not your purse exactly, but you know, purses in general. That and I can get a LOT of stuff I don’t really need with me in it.

    You are an amazing lady Jenny. I love you.

  172. I love reading whatever you write. You and all of the people who respond make me feel better about myself. Most of the time I feel like a big failure when some days all I can manage is sitting on the couch and playing video games with my kids or watching tv with them because the pain I am in has taken so much energy from me I can’t manage to do anything else. When I see you talk about the days you spend with your daughter and see others say similar things I feel like maybe I am not alone and not ruining my kids childhoods. Sorry if I am not making sense, having a very foggy day from lack of sleep this week. Just wanted to say you help me a lot in not feeling like a complete fuck up in my life and I am grateful for that.

  173. Everything you write is so… cohesive? well-worded? I can’t seem to find an adjective that isn’t lame, but even your psychotic stuff is really fun to read. Which makes me worry about my psychological health that I GET everything you say… Good job, though – you ARE successful! 🙂

  174. Ultimately it never matters what others tell us about ourselves, but what we believe is true. It’s so hard to change how you see yourself and it’s doubly so when your brain is an asshole and depression lies. I think you are a magnificent person and I’m getting a little emotional thinking how great it is that someone who has so much more than someone like me still battles the same issues. It’s a human thing. Stupid mental illness.

    Keep on doing what you do Jenny. We all love and support you.

  175. I must be back in highschool (sophomoric) because my rather loud laughing at your ball obsession has caused all the cubical gophers at work to pop their heads up.

  176. I didn’t even give a keynote address at a conference yesterday, but I COMPLETELY dropped the ONE BALL I had in hand at the home improvement store!

    Love you so much, Jenny. We’re all a bit fucked-up, and most of the time. We just all also have superiority complexes in that we each think “I am THE MOST fucked-up!”

  178. Holy shit. I’m dropping balls all day every day. Sometimes I just wish I’d run out of balls to drop so I could just sit and watch TV without worrying about them. Thanks for making the rest of us feel a little more normal too. . . If someone as successful as YOU can feel like this, it makes it seem a little more ok.

  180. Heh, I’ve locked my balls in the cupboard under the stairs for a while, until they learn that being kicked around on the floor is as good as being artistically juggled.

    I reckon most people look like they have their shit together to disguise the fact that they haven’t got it together in the slightest. That’s why retail therapy is so big.

    Anyway, I think you’re great. Love your posts ^_^

  181. It occurred to me that most people work really hard to be successful and then are failures, or fail to achieve their ultimate goal. You, have apparently flipped this convention with your fuck-ups being more successful than most peoples successes. Color me jealous. (I don’t know how to spell/type jealous, and jello was suggested. So it must be green jello.)

  183. I can so relate to your conference experience! Sitting in my room, reading a book I bought at the airport, checking my email, or watching chick flix, and ordering $25 ham sandwiches to eat alone at that tiny table next to the bed while everyone else is downstairs dressed to the nines having glamorous cocktails (and probably hooking up with one another or going on glorious adventures in the strange city). Then coming home and crying myself to sleep because 1) no one in my house seemed to even notice I was gone for three days, and 2) all the writing I promised myself I’d get done on the trip never seemed to happen because there was too much HBO and too much brain-freezing anxiety and too much self-loathing going on, and 3) the one or two work shops I did manage to attend showed me just how wonderful and put-together everyone else is and just how lazy and anxiety- and angst-ridden I really am. Well, at least I’m not the only one who has these same experiences.

    I have learned how to stop some of this from happening, however. I now rent cars. Cars take me places – out of the hotel – away from the beautiful people. There is freedom and experience on the road. Last time I went to a conference, I was in Wisconsin and I just rolled down the windows to smell the post-thunderstorm air and blasted the easy listening station while I checked out the nicely tended yards along some strange highway. By the time I got back to the hotel, I was ok with my situation, and even wrote a little.

  184. ‘watch the shiny people staring intently at their own balls’ This is, hands-down, the best thing I’ve read all week and its been a shitty week and so this post, and all the humour it proivded was soooo needed. Also? Balls. Heh.

  186. You’ve said it before, but I’ll remind you, we don’t know what goes on behind the closed front door of the homes of the perfect people with shiny lives. We don’t know how many of them cry behind those closed doors or stare at their mirrors in desperation and disappointment. You are awesome, because you show us your world behind your doors and what you see in the mirror, and because you see your mother as someone you wish to be more like, not someone you wamt to be better than. And as a writer you see all the flaws in my grammar, but as a kind human, you’ll overlook them. Or at least, be kind enough not to point them out.

  188. I love how real and raw and FUNNY and relatable you are. Also, Google apparently doesn’t recognize relatable as a word… ANYWAY, I just feel like you should know that I love reading your posts and tweets… and that you are appreciated.

  189. I so often wish I could be like you. You have managed to move beyond your anxiety, to face your fears, and be successful with your career.

    I just sit on the couch and cry because I don’t know what I’m doing with my life. My anxiety scares the shit out of me. I know depression lies, but unfortunately, I’m an easy, gullible mark.

  190. I live in Denver and although I didn’t realize there were hair kiosks at the airport, I am not at all surprised. And yeah, you’d have to step outside the airport for pot. Hm, I wonder if someone has had the idea of setting up a pot kiosk on the road to the airport. I wonder how far the closest dispensary is. I don’t know any of this information. Clearly corpse hair and pot aren’t high on my list of need to knows.

  191. I wish that I could have met you in person. We could have hung out with our hair and pot and holed up in the bathroom together. Maybe next time.

  192. Well I hope you don’t because I read your blog at work and already get warned and never can get to a lot of fun sites – like youtube, etc. and certainly not storify! I was surprised I could get to your blog at all, in fact!

  193. And that’s why you just have to shave your head, strap on the wine helmet, and wait until the world blurs into something a little easier to understand. Or until the giggles kick in. Or until you get a slingshot where you can fire the balls at random.

  194. Also, in the words of Walter: Nothing is fucked here, Dude. Come on, you’re being very un-Dude.

  196. All that talk of balls honestly made me feel as if I were reading something really dirty. I was sitting on my exercise ball while reading and almost fell off of it. Consider my balls dropped!

  198. I have horrible anxiety problems and it is helpful to come to your blog and read things like this.
    Just wanted to let you know.

  199. U are just awesome. Thanks for the ball juggling blog. Mine r falling and u make it ok to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. We r not perfect.

  200. Thank you for this. I had a rough day and I feel like I “need improvement”. And that I’m failing a lot at life. And this helped.

  201. Sweet Jeebus, I don’t seem to be juggling more than one or two balls at any given time, and those balls are day-to-day things that have to get done or the household will come to a screeching halt. Also, I aspire to intertwine airport hair with my thinning locks, and I am a walking fashion DON’T. Thanks for sharing your insecurities so the rest of us don’t feel like huge ball-less schmucks. I still think you’re the bees knees, girl, and I’d have happily skipped the parties to sip tea with you if I was ever brave enough (or felt like I had any reason ever) to attend a blogging convention. Too bad you couldn’t have cruised around in a thingy like that cool cat house you posted. Nobody would ever know it was you in there. Ooh, or you could put on a shark costume and cruise around on a robovacuum thingy like that other cat who won the Internet.

  202. Those people who REALLY have their shit together? They lie. And I frequently leave my balls hanging while I sneak into bed and hide from those people. And that’s ok…

  204. …it’s about time your balls dropped…for Christ’s sake, Lois,this is CAMP!

  206. Oh Jenny, never change! Please? Well I mean… Like your RA could go away, and your anxiety could stop being an asshole, but YOU? You’re perfect. Thanks for making me feel less alone.

    Also, the way you felt at the conference? That’s how I feel at Comic Con. It’s SO awesome, but the most draining thing ever. It was also the day before finals week at my University. Screw studying. Comic Con is better. And scarier. I love you. This is getting rambly. Kirk out.

  208. I have a problem with my balls as well. I toss them all around, but they, like, bounce off my forehead and knock things off of shelves and then the cats chase them under furniture…
    Seriously, I’m so under-accomplished at 28. Actually, I had no plan for 28 at all. My plans for life went something like this: graduate, success, turn 50.
    Of course, people who are really good with their balls would say that was probably the problem: lack of planning.
    Perspective: I own my own car, pay my own rent to keep a roof over my head, I have food enough to stay plump, running water, am alive, etc etc. So people younger than I have their master degree and houses and passports and stuff. I guess I’m lucky in my own way. Shucks.

  209. If you did fuck it up I can’t tell – hadnt heard of storify before you edumacated me. I dont live under a rock though; I have heard of ‘spotify’ (still dunno what it is… kinda like STUPEFY’?)

  210. There’s nothing like reading about other people having issues controlling their balls, to help cheer you up about your own mishandling of balls. I’m not sure if that last sentence made any sense, but basically, thank you 🙂

  211. So glad I clicked through to read that. I wrote something recently about throwing the balls too high and forgetting about them by the time they come back down, I do quite like the idea of just sitting and watching the shiney people because lord knows I feel like I should be getting lots of ‘has potential if she only applied herself’ marks right now…

  213. Did they at least supply you with something to fill that very empty mini bar other than hair? Bummed I missed it – next year. BTW -did you come across anything else cool that they were selling at the airport on the flight home?

  214. I was going to let you know that your hair most likely came from devotees at Hindu temples in India who have their heads shaved at the temple as part of a religious rite (usually it’s to thank the gods for something, or to ask a favor), and NOT corpses, but it looks as if someone else beat me to the punch, damn it. (I seem to recall reading that most of the real human hair not already attached to living people–because, you know, it’s not as if you can get free-range hair by marching up to someone w/a pair of scissors; hair isn’t like “pick your own strawberries”, you don’t get to go to the hair farm and say “hey, I want HER hair, and anyway, in most places that kind of thing will get you arrested or at least chased by an angry mob–is temple hair from India, and most of the time First World hair doesn’t work because we wash and process it way too much, as opposed to Indian hair, which is not only naturally stronger but is much less abused…and why the hell do I know this much about hair, anyway? That’s what I get for reading Allure magazine for years, I suppose…) Anyway, my point is that you don’t need to worry about seeing dead people because you’re wearing their hair, although eating Indian food now and then might keep your new hair happy, instead of feeling homesick.

    Oh, and as for the whole “balls in the air/I suck” bit, I believe that’s called “imposter syndrome”–been there, done that, sold the t-shirt, still taking orders for more shirts, but trying to get out of the business. I’ve been mostly unemployed over the past 2 years, with about 7.5-8 months of temp work during that time, and am having to apply for unemployment yet again; believe me, all that rejection will do a number on whatever self-esteem you might already have possessed (in my case? not much…). Wasn’t I supposed to be able to support myself by now? Damn, I wasn’t even smart enough to get married when I was young and marginally cute, because I’m way too weird and a social misfit who does stupid awkward things at inappropriate times, and now I’m an old lady with a cat and a fuckton of bills…you see where this is going, right? My long-winded point is that you’re not alone by a long shot in feeling this way, a hell of a lot of people feel the same way, and we’re all in this mess together, right down to feeling weird and hiding in one’s room during a convention because you’re either all peopled out, or you’re convinced that everyone hates you/you’re too weird for human company/etc.

    (Oh, and I second the Cheryl Strayed suggestion; I met her last year during the Tiny Beautiful Things book tour, and she’s a lovely person, very sweet and understanding, having been through plenty of crap herself. The book will make you cry, but it’s a good cry, more of a “oh, hey, it’s not just me feeling like this” way…kind of like the way your book/blog makes a lot of people feel, you know? Go check Cheryl out, and if you have the chance to meet her and you’re feeling up to it, do so; I bet you’d get along just fine.)

  216. when i was 16 i asked my mom why everyone thought i was old enough to order drinks and play slot machines when we went to vegas – she said that i had an air of confidence that most people don’t acquire until well into adulthood, and it made people assume i was far older than my actual years. i think i just stared at her. i was terrified of everyone. i used to sit at my desk in school and pretend to be working on test well past when i was done so that i wouldn’t be the first one to walk to the teacher’s desk and turn in my paper, if i waited til 4 or 5 people had turned in their tests, then i’d just be someone in the middle of the crowd and not someone who would be noticed. i don’t know how i managed to project an air of confidence, but it sure as hell wasn’t how i felt. i am guessing that some of those shiny people, in control and wearing their grown up shoes, are trembling just as much on the inside. they’ve just managed to find a nice shell to hide behind.

  217. As a Denver native, thank you for talking about anything other than pot you can get here. We are a weird bunch and I wouldn’t have it any other way, but it is nice to be known for something else, especially corpse hair.
    The onion put up this article a while back: http://www.theonion.com/articles/report-today-the-day-they-find-out-youre-a-fraud,35133/ It came up in my Facebook feed about a dozen times; all posted by brilliant, successful, have their lives perfectly together people I know. I can’t say how much it helped to know they were in the same place, even though it definitely didn’t look like it on paper. I think it is only the ones who are clueless who think they have it figured out.

  218. Holy Shit we are all just alike I guess. I never feel up to par with the shiny people either. I always feel like I could be more successful than I am. The great part is as a new blogger I look to you to find the “right” way to do things and you aren’t even sure of the right way. I love that.
    thesecretslayer.com

  222. I just have a few balls and I can’t manage those. The only reason anyone would think I have it all together is because I put up all these walls so they don’t see what a mess I am. I admire you for sharing and letting people in.

  223. SON OF A BITCH! I was also in Denver on the same day, at the same time as you for a layover. I WAS SO CLOSE TO MY IDOL!

    Dammit all to hell……

  224. Great story Jenny. You always cheer me up when I’m having a bad day. Thanks for being so reliably insane like the rest of us! 🙂

  225. It is totally normal to feel like you’re not sure you’re where you should be in life. On paper my like looks amazing. Married to a smart successful guy, have a PhD (I studied ticks, like the bugs not like a twitch), published scientific papers, moved to Europe for work, made my own niche in the company, BUT at least once a week I expected someone to come up to me and say, “what the hell are you doing here? You don’t belong.” This is pretty common for women in Science and in fact I recently found out one of the top physicists in the world (who happens to be female) feels the same way. So you’re in good (and very brilliant, at least in her case) company.

  226. And this is why I love reading you. You’re relatable, honest, and normal (at least my definition of normal). This is my favorite recap.
    I was unable to attend the conference but am glad I could pretend to live it through this post (because that’s probably as much as I would have been able to take, too). Thanks, girl. You’re the bomb.

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ALL THE COOL KIDS ADVERTISE HERE:

I fucking love these people & not just because they support my wine-slushee habit:

Flourish in Progress: (T)hug Life: Part hood. Part good.

Pregnancy Calendar at Alpha Mom: Amalah’s week-by-week guide to the miracle of pregnancy and all the various indignities that come with it.

The Mack Files: Digesting life in bite-sized pieces through the lens of clichés, quotes & “truisms”.  Often irreverent, always honest.

Barking at the Moon: If your dog is your furry child, you will laugh out loud at Tracy Beckerman’s book about her family & a one-dog wrecking ball named Riley.

Kieran’s Humor: Not suitable for children, the sensitive or those hoping to get into heaven.

Go Doc Yourself Podcast: When a good doc ends, the klatch begins… Join hosts, scientists, and friends, Erin McCourt and Erin McCartt in weekly documentary dissection.

Welcome to xanaru: A mostly funny blog about the quest for happiness through authenticity, Great Danes and indiscriminate swearing. Plus hand-painted, custom artwork on bags, jackets, backpacks & more.

How the Hell Did I Not Know That?: Humorist Lucie Frost shares daily Instagram reels with learnings of the day—words, music, whatever–with plenty of laughs and all the curse words.

Beautiful Writers book: Writers! This coming-of-career memoir (w/ the BEST advice from celeb authors, real shit you haven’t heard) is life. A page-turning beach read doubling as how-to. #Magic

The Dating Days of Marta O: When I told my sister I was building a blog she said: “Do people still read blogs?” I do not know, but if YOU want to read it, here it is. Keep in mind, my stories about dating after 40 are for the brave.

Where Do I Belong? A memoir of Sarah Carrington: The unbelievable story of growing up in a religious cult in the mountains of Northern British Columbia. What happens to you in life doesn’t make you strong; rising above it does.

CONNECTED: A Personal Journal for Ketamine Therapy Created by writer & patient Katherine Davis for this powerful clinical treatment. If considering ketamine for major depression, check out this essential tool.

Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh: SO GOOD.

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