You might want to skip these posts for the next few days because they will be even more unintelligible than usual because of spotty internet connections and rampant drunkeness. Arrived in California yesterday to prepare for blogher parties after almost missing our plane because Laura and I were (seriously) too busy getting drunk in the airport to hear the scolding we recieved over the loudspeaker for holding up the plane. California is gorgeous but I think I’m allergic to something here or possibly I’m having a reaction to the lack of pollution. Laurie from Kirtsy has access to an amazing, empty house in San Francisco so Laura and I canceled our reservations at the hotel and are staying here. When you stand on the roof you can see the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. The people who live here must be crazy-rich because their house is insane and their fridge is filled with shit I get for Christmas but don’t eat because I don’t know how to. Like kippered peppers and pluimot jam. They have 18 bottles of Perrier and tonic water but not a single diet coke in the house. Fucking disturbing. So then this morning Laura made me coffee, which I never drink, but I needed caffiene because we were at Guy Kawasaki’s house until 2am stuffing swag bags for the kirtsy party and the People’s Party. The coffee maker looked like an alien and the coffee tasted like it was made from cigarettes. Is that what really expensive coffee is supposed to taste like? It probably would have been better with sugar but apparently these people don’t believe in sugar (it exists, rich people) and at this point I’m considering melting the candy bar I have in my purse to distill my own. Then, just when all hope was lost, I opened up the cupboard and found a box labeled “Organic hemp (with granola)”. The granola makes it healthy, I guess? Although I’m not sure how healthy it is to smoke granola. I’d try it but at this point in my life I’m too lazy to even make a joint. Dry weed…remove stems/seeds/granola(?)…mince… roll… Meh. If I had the attention span to follow a recipe I’d make a cake.
Freaked out about The People’s Party tonight. It’s either going to be awesome or totally end in a mushroom cloud but just keep in mind that this is being thrown by 6 chicks with no money who just wanted people to be able to meet up. We should be broadcasting live online if you want to stop by to check it out but if you keep seeing a blank screen just know that we like to party quietly in total darkness and it has nothing to do with the fact that we just fucked it all up.
PS. If you couldn’t make it to blogher this year you are my favorite person ever because I’ve had to miss them before and it sucks and I totally get that. Just know that in the end, none of us remembers anyone we met so technically you could just say you were here and everyone would be “OH YEAH! I met you!”. Secondly, there are a shitload of parties and dinners and crap going on here and I’ve only been invited to like two which is actually awesome because it gives me time to just go out and meet people. The best parties I went to last year were the small get togethers that happened in hotel rooms of people who weren’t invited to shit. I missed most of the big parties last year because I didn’t even know about them (and neither did most of the other conference attendees because there’s just no way that everyone can be invited to every party) but I wouldn’t change my experience for the world. My point is, if you are here you may hear about lots of parties and dinners and you will say “I wasn’t invited” a million times (I’ve said it about 5 times today) and you might be tempted to feel like an asshole. Don’t. Instead say “Nope, but I’m keeping my options open” because that’s what I’m doing. That’s why you may see me wandering the lobby a hell of a lot looking for random strangers to bond with. And if I can’t find any I’ll go rent some porn. And it will be awesome. My point is, don’t get your feelings hurt. No one is here at BlogHer trying to destroy you. Probably. I don’t know. I guess it’s possible someone came here to destroy you but it’s really unlikely. Why am I talking about this? I blame the hemp, which I just ate because apparently these people don’t believe in rolling papers either. Anyway, whatever you do, come to the People’s Party. The Westin, 8pm, Elizabethan room. You have officially been invited by me. And even better, they’re using my ipod for the playlist and it’s filled with shit like the soundtrack to The Little Mermaid. Whoever put me in charge of music is a idiot.
Comment of the day: Since you haven’t updated or tweeted I’m a little worried you’re passed out, wedged between the toilet and the wall in the handicapped stall, lying in a pool of urine and shoe-tracked toilet paper, and the toilet’s on auto flush, so it’s periodically splashing you when it flushes and your mascara’s running down your cheeks and you look like the opposite of Heath Ledger ’cause it’s black not white and no one’s missing you because apparently, the BlogHer attendees are so drunk there are no glasses left in the building. Or water (according to tweets), but what they don’t know is it’s splashing you on the bathroom floor. Please tell me I’m worried for nothing and you just got arrested instead. ~ Robin (PENSIEVE)