I actually left. I’m in Chicago at BlogHer. I was so nervous yesterday on the plane that my hands were shaking, but I got to the hotel and, well, I know everyone says this, but the people I was dying to meet are fabulous and the people I never knew I would meet are fabulous and my hands are just fine now.
I thought my pump was broken this morning and that would have sucked far worse than actually pumping.
Flying without small children is heaven.
It’s really humid in Chicago. My hair hates it here.
Have I mentioned that I love it and I’m having a really good time (thanks Maura, Issa, Marinka, Greis, Andrea, MommyTime, Mommy Geekology, Kari, Kirsten, Renee, so many more and I can’t bring myself to link today …)
My hair hates it though and I had it styled, hoping it would look fabulous.
I may be the only woman out of 1500 at this hotel that hasn’t had a pedicure in the last three months.
My excuse is my teeny tiny baby.
Oh, yeah, my teeny tiny baby is eating just fine for grandma. I do miss him, I miss them all. Not enough to have wanted them all the airplane with me. Thank you, Grandma.
On the second flight, a really young (oh my GOD when did eighteen become so young) soldier in fatigues sat in the row in front of me. The airline invited him to first class because there were empty seats. He was thrilled, everyone on board told him how much he deserved it as he walked by. I covered my face and cried. Maybe I’m just hormonal, but it was so moving.
I was in the same hotel as President Obama last night, briefly. The men in flak jackets were cute. But, mainly because there were only men in flak jackets, no actual bombs.
That’s all I can think of right now and I’m not sure I’ve said anything interesting. On to blogging sessions.