The she-blogging shindig.

So! Are you going to BlogHer? I’m going to BlogHer! If you’re there, will you say hi to me? I promise to say hi back. Maybe I’ll even say other things, too!

Not only am I going to BlogHer—I’m also speaking. Like, officially. On a panel! With this one! And this one! And this one will moderate! To distract everyone from the inanity of whatever it is I’ll be spouting, I shall wear nothing but pasties and lederhosen. And oven mitts. On my feet.

I’m a little afraid of this year’s conference. There are so very many people going that I want to meet--way more then there were last year, when there were already way more people to meet than there were minutes in the conference, and I spent the whole time weeping and laughing and weeping and laughing at the same time while drinking beer. This time I may go into complete overload and simply throw myself to the ground and thrash about, shrieking. If this happens, I beg you--take no pictures of the me-spectacle. Much as I may horrify and delight.