Congrats to the top 4 names!!  Look over there to your right!

------------------------------------------------------>

We ended up with many, many names on our list and finally cleared them out to ones we seriously couldn't decide between.  We can see him with any of those names. 

So...VOTE!  Voting stops tomorrow at midnight.

Thank you all for submitting names - there were some pretty awesome ones!  I personally liked Mojito, but Shellie axed that one as soon as it came out of my mouth.  I think she may think I have a problem.

The bitch.

Ok, since everyone was coming up with such cute names in the comments below, we thought we'd give you guys a chance to name the puppy!

*edit to add : Kevin came up with the idea to have a vote for the name in the previous comments and I just now re-read that! Sorry Kevin!  You're the bestest!! 

SO.  Everyone list some of your favorite doggy names (or what you think would fit the pup) in the comments here.  Whoever offers the winning name will win a prize! 

The Rules

• Names in the previous comments are already added to the list
• List as many as you want...within reason
• We will choose a handful of the names we like most by Thursday morning
• We will put a poll in the sidebar Thursday and you can VOTE
• The voting will end at 11:59pm on Friday, where we will find out the winner!
• We have the right to skew the voting anyway we see fit because, um, it's still our dog, losers
• But we'll try not to

The Hints

• He is a male Australian Shepherd/Catahoula mix
• We don't like 'normal' names (i.e., Max, Winston, Buddy, Duke)
• He will be the best dog EVAR (except for Malachi...because he ruled the universe)

GO!

p.s. Here's a better close-up.  Everyone say "AWWWWWWWW!"

I think this is the first time in the history of the universe since I started this blog 6 months ago that I haven't posted three days in a row.  Three!  Even when I had a mental breakdown a couple of weeks ago and couldn't uncurl from a sobbing ball, I made time to update the ol' blog.

But lately?  It started with me deciding I needed to socialize - to get out of the house a little.  I've gone to the movie theater, something I hadn't done in months.  I've had lunch with friends (real life friends!).  I've gone out drinking with friends I haven't seen in months (and years, in one case!).  I've had guests over (rented movies, had dinner, talked all night!).  I've done some remodeling on the house (ripped up old carpet, painted, cleared out flower beds, hung crown moulding!).  I've worked...A LOT.  Seven days a week, my friends, SEVEN!

It's taking a toll on my blogging time.  What is this 'life' thing?!  It's screwing up my schedule!!

But it feels kinda good, too. 

------------insert good segue here-------------

Guess what I did yesterday? 

We drove to Kansas to visit our new adopted doggy!  Since we lost the oldest, had to give up the youngest, and now that I'm moving out of state and Shellie is staying by herself here...we decided she needed a dog.  A bigger dog.  So we adopted a Australian Shepherd mix from a rescue.

Everyone, meet ___________ (no name picked yet).  We get him Friday!

How cute is this one?!   Lord'a'mercy.  Like I need anything else to keep me off this computer.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

Right before I turned 30, I started writing down a little list of things I want to do before I die.  I just dug it up so I could revisit it.  I thought I'd share.

• Take a long roadtrip by myself
• Have a(t least one) book published
• Take swing dance lessons
• Become fluent in at least one foreign language
• Live in at least one different state (though several would be nice)
• Live at least for a couple of months in a different country

Let's see...I can already mark 3 of those things off the list!

In May 2005 (4 months after I made the list), I took a roadtrip by myself for 15 days. 

In April of this year, I started taking swing lessons. And salsa lessons. And tango lessons.

And, come November/December, I'm moving out-of-state, yo.

As of right now, I just want to add one more to the list : take another big roadtrip.  The last one was just amazing.  This next one doesn't have to be by myself - just as long as I get to drive, baby!

--------------

What's on your lists??

Remember when I told the Oklahoma lotto winners that they needed to cheer the fuck up because, helllloooo, you just won the freaking lottery?  And then I showed them how to work it? 

Well, apparently people read that post and paid attention because winners seem to be getting much better these days! I should totally be a life coach! 

I mean, look, they're practically jumping for joy! 

BEHOLD THE MOUNTING EXCITEMENT!!!!!!!!!!

(why you make me hold dis big check lady?)

(hey, you...you got a little girl for me to feel up?)

(ma, why that guy keep'a sayin' cheese?)

(derrrrrrrr....huh? *drool*)

(touch mah check and i'll mount ya like a 6-point buck)

(ay ay ay, i theenk i crap-o en mis pantalones)

That, in Oklahoma, it is illegal for any woman to be artificially inseminated without written consent from her husband?

That means, if you don't have a husband (single/divorced/widowed)?  Too bad for you....you apparently don't deserve kids.  Unless you're knocked up by some random guy, that is.

Does this piss anyone else off?!

(p.s.  My best friend is 34 and single.  And today she got inseminated. In Oklahoma. By the only doctor in the state who will do it - a MALE doctor. Hmmmmm.)

As you readers well know, we at Taste The World like to insure the safety of everyone involved in our bloggy community.  We demonstrated our desire to make your lives safer with the tornado preparation post.

Yes, yes...you're welcome.

Today we'd like to share with you some general information on how to handle a crisis.  Since not every person will react the same, we will offer up two scientific methods for proper action.  A crisis can be anything from a dog going into seizures to a fugitive plowing into your car late at night.

Please pay close attention to these highly-developed skills and then apply them to your lives if/when you need them.

The Shellie Method™

• Remain calm
• Calm others around you, if necessary
• Assess the situation logically
• Call any authorities needed at the location
• Briefly and articulately explain the situation to authorities
• Attend to any victim with a relaxed demeanor
• Keep the situation under control until authorities arrive
• Tell the authorities any important details you can remember
• Offer to aid authorities if needed

The Chase Method™

• Immediately freak your shit out
• Breathe erratically and perhaps cry a little
• Place hands on head and pace around blindly
• Don't understand what anyone is trying to tell you
• After 5 minutes of looking, find your phone to call authorities
• Confuse the authorities with nonsense blabbering
• Close eyes when nearing victim because aaaaaaacccckkkk!!!!!!!!
• Ask for help yourself because you're flipping out
• Hand the phone to someone who can actually speak
• Run around in circles
• Get tired of running and lay on the floor/grass
• Roll around until someone offers you help
• Reward yourself with a popsicle later because you did a good job finding your phone

Two weeks ago, I posted about moving to Texas.  And I showed a picture of the new house.

Since I know you all are DYING to see how it's going, here's a couple of pics of it as it is. My brother (hi Bubba!) said the lot next door has the foundation and driveway poured, so we're assuming we're next in line.

Woot!

(yay! the dirt is in the shape of a driveway now!)

(welcome to our humble home. please, let me take your coats)

Hi! It's me, your devoted BlogHer stalker. No, no, don't get out your mace!  I just have a question.

What? What's that, Amalah? Oh, I mean, sure, who wouldn't want you to autograph their boobs, but that's not really what I was going to ask.  No, really. You can put the marker away. 

I just wanted to know who you caught the attention of recently, because, um, I've been getting a lot of strange google hits in the last week:

"Wikipedia Amalah" - ok, so you have more than one stalker.  Why don't you have your own Wiki page, anyway?

"Amalah stupid" - Hey, now.  That's my stalkee you're talking to, buddy.  She's not stupid.  She just likes to drink lots of wine. Really. Haven't you seen the pictures?

"Amalah stupid dumbass moron" - Good lawd. Who'd you piss off, woman??

Just curious.

Love,

Chase

When I was younger, my dad would let me sit on his lap and drive his car.  Well, that is, if by "drive" you mean "while going 2mph on a dirt road, I can put my hands on the steering wheel while he holds on the bottom of it with a death grip and he also gets to do all the pedals because who would let a 10-year-old actually drive a car with other people within a 5-mile radius of that murder-mobile?"

Hey! I just realized he let my 4-year-old nephew do the same thing.  Hmmm. And there I was thinking I was cool.  Crap.

But I digress.

So.  On September 25, 1991?  I turned sixteen.

I had taken Driver's Ed.  And, despite almost wiping out an entire block with a way-too-wide-turn and subsequent freaking-out-and-slamming-on-the-gas during my first behind-the-wheel test, I had aced the class. 

I was ready to be a full-fledged DRIVER.  On the road.  With other humans. 

It took until December for my parents to let me go take my driver's test.  

I can't imagine why. 

But finally, I got to go.  After taking the written test (100%, thankyouverymuch), my dad handed me the keys and the driving test dude and I went outside to the car.  He stopped in the parking lot, dumbfounded at what he saw.

My parents' 1982 Cadillac Coupe DeVille.

Now, I can't say for sure, but I have a good feeling the '82 Coupe was THE LONGEST GODDAMN CAR EVER MADE.  You could probably fit 74 bodies in that trunk.

Driver test dude looked at the hooptie, looked at me, and laughed.  I know he was thinking there was NO WAY this 5'4", 120-pound weakling would be able to even see over the steering wheel, let alone drive its badassness in a reasonable manner.

But, see, he didn't realize I'd driven it before.**  On a lap. Six years ago.

But I had.

We got in the car and he struggled for his seatbelt.  I puffed out my chest, looked at him out of the corner of my eye, grinned, and adjusted my seat with the automatic levers (which I thought were FREAKING cool in 1991!).

I'm pretty sure he said a prayer when I started the engine.

But, much to his surprise, I did just fine.  I drove and stopped and turned and backed up like a pro.  And no one died.  The only thing that didn't happen that day was the whole parallel parking thing.  When we reached the place to do it, the car was too big to even FIT between the posts.  So he said, "you wanna just go back?"  I said yes.

And I passed. 

Without anyone else on the pedals. 

**Little did he know, too, I had also been flying airplanes and helicopters by myself at that time.  What's a stupid ol' Cadillac when you can fly a Cessna and a chopper?!

Never underestimate the ability of a scrawny little girl.

Wow.

I think this has made me smile more than anything has in a long time. It's simple. It's silly. It's amazing.

It makes me smile. It makes me laugh.

And it makes me want to dance.

(link via Maggie)

Benji won 'So You Think You Can Dance'. 

That means my Travis lost.  

And this makes me sad.

I think Shakespeare said it best when he offered this perfect end to the tragedy:

A glooming peace Fox TV with it brings;

Cat Deeley, for sorrow, will not show her head:

Go hence, to write much blogs about these things;

Some shall be Celine Dion's, and some banished:

For never was a story of more woe

Than this of Chase, the big dance ho.

I love thee, Travis!

Curtain.

Me : Hi. I'm Chase. I'm here to meet Mr. Davi......

Counselor : OH MY GOD YOU'RE TOTALLY INSANE AND YOU NEED LOTS OF MEDICATION AND HOLY CRAP DON'T COME AT ME WITH THAT KNIIIIIIIIIIIIFE!!  AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!

---------------

Or something like that.

Everything went just fine.  Even though I had to fight back my impulse to pull over and vomit on my way there, I made it to my appointment.  And I didn't cry.  And he made fun of me because of how many times the word "blog" came out of my mouth.

He's referring me to a psychotherapist (I don't even think I ever said that word before today) and is highly suggesting I get me some anti-depressants. Heh.

So. That's fun. 

Even better is that, because I've been so freaky lately and haven't been working much, he said I qualify for some program they offer where, because I'm a poor mutha mutha, I'm getting in to a good therapist and they're only charging me $5 an hour.

FIVE. DOLLARS.

!!!!!!!

I can't even get a good meal for $5 and I'm getting an hour of therapy for that amount!?

I just need to stop working altogether - things are cheaper!  YAY! No more work for meeeeeeee!

(Just kidding, Shellie....get your finger off the trigger.)

Anyway. That's that.

I can stop talking about it so much now, and get back to the important issues and hard-hitting journalism.  Like yesterday. With the twisty-ties.

Deep stuff, ya know.

Before my truck got squished, it had one little issue.  When I would first start it, it would idle really high, revving its engine until it sounded like it was going to take off on its own and plow through whatever was in its way.  It was overly excited, I guess...it just wanted to go and go and go.

Of course, when I would take it in to to the shop, it didn't make a peep.  It never once acted for the mechanics the way it did when I had it.  Much like when I take a sick pet to the vet, the truck was miraculously healed once it reached the shop.  The shop guys were always doing the 'yeaaaah, ok, maybe next time' thing.

And so it goes with my brain.

Wednesday began my brain's revving....it's own going and going and going and feeling like it was going to burst out of my skull through every orifice and flop around fish-like on the floor.

Today?  I feel decent.  Not 100%, but more like a human than I've felt in about a week.  I actually got up, got dressed, and went to work.  (!!!)

By myself. 

Without crying.

And when people ask me how I'm doing today, I can say "I'm doing ok" and mean it.

So by tomorrow when I meet with the counselor guy?  I'll probably be all perfect and full of glee and make him say, "umm...why are you here, again. lady?"   When I try to go into the "but I thought I had a brain tumor!" spiel, I'll probably get an, "umm, yeaaaaaah, maybe next time."

Which is ok, I suppose, I'd rather show up and tell him how I used to feel rather than not be able to make it out the door in the first place.

.....

But on to more important things.

Seriously.  Who actually puts the twisty-tie back on the bread?  I hate that little useless piece of trash.  If you spin the bread around and tuck the plastic underneath it, it seals it JUST fine, thankyouverymuch.

Revolt against the twisty-tie thingy.

It is a pain in my ass.

That is all.

Thank you.

First, I wanted to thank everyone who has commented/emailed/called.  I didn't want to respond in comments, because there are only so many ways I can say THANK YOU.  And I can't say it enough - it means the world that so many people care that my brain is melting.  *mwah* I love you all.

And, for everyone who was surprised that I called for help so soon : this has been an ongoing thing for me.  I've known I needed help for a long time, but always pretended it wasn't there until I felt better.  I finally asked for help because, how I felt on Thursday?  It scared the living shit out of me. I knew I had to.

With that said... 

-----------------------------------

When I was 14, I went on a family vacation to Florida, where I had to share a hotel room with my parents.  The first morning, my step mother asked me what I'd been laughing at the night before - I had no idea what she was talking about.  Apparently, I'd woken her several times though the night laughing out loud.

That was the first of many, many times people have told me I've awoken them cracking myself up.  And I often wake myself doing the same thing, though rare is it that I remember what exactly it was that made me start.

Even while I'm asleep, I find something to laugh at myself about.  Why would it be any different when my brain is so obviously falling out of my head?

So I thought I'd share a few of the things that I've recently thought/done that make me realize...um, yeah...hi, I'm nutso.

• Yesterday, after cleaning the pool and feeling like I was going to pass out, I laid down on the ground and cried.  And then promptly fell asleep - on the concrete - until Shellie came looking for me. 
• In trying to go to work today (because I felt a little better this morning!), after putting it off for 2 hours, I got into the car and then couldn't make myself put it in gear.  I sat in the car and cried for about 20 minutes because I couldn't just GO.  Then I realized how stupid that sounded, so I went.
• I made it about 3 miles before turning around, going to pick up Shellie, and making her go to work with me so I could do it.  (My poor Shellie.)
• Lying in bed last night and having a bit of a freak out moment, thought to myself what if I have a brain tumor and I'm going to die? Oh my god, I can totally FEEL a brain tumor in my head! I AM gonna die!
• In order to quell my brain tumor thoughts, I turned on the tv.  I watched, on purpose, Overboard with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell.  And I enjoyed it.

Lord help me.

A friend of Shellie's (hi Stacy!) read my blog yesterday and gave me some contact information for the local mental health association.  I finally grew a pair at 2pm and called them.  That's got to be the strangest phone call I've ever had to make ("um, hi, I was told to call you guys because...um...I think I'm depressed" insert crying here "and I...um...need to talk to someone...or something...because I'm sad"). 

It sounds so stupid, so contrived, so trivial.  I'm sure everyone says that if they feel this way, but I can't articulate how I feel other than "I don't know" and "I just can't stop being sad."

Oh yeah, and also, "whaaaaaa!" 

I tried to use my "thick blanket" analogy for the guy, but it doesn't come out right when I say it aloud.  I should have just given the guy my URL and sobbed "read.blog.sad.whaa."

BUT. I made an appointment for Tuesday morning to talk to a counselor. (Which, in itself, makes me want to throw up repeatedly, thankyouverymuch.)

I keep being told that someone spiked my punch at BlogHer and turned me into a blubbering idiot.  Who was it, dammit?? 

*eyeballs Karl*

Also, I wanted to make the Shellie/Texas thing clear(er) while I'm at it.

We didn't decide she was staying in Oklahoma because of my issues (though I'm sure she's glad she doesn't have to hear me whine for awhile...heh).  She has a great job with a great company - and she's moving up that ladder quickly.

It makes much more sense for her to stay here and finish school and keep her killer job rather than move to Texas, have to wait a year to start school (not living there at least a year would add nearly $10,000 to her tuition), and then having to start from the bottom at another company.

Just wanted to clear that up.  Will it be hard?  Yes.  Will it save us or destroy us?  We honestly don't know.  But we both know this is best for the both of us...and we're both very positive on the outcome.

One day at a time, as they say.

I guess Tuesday is my first.  Wish me luck.

I think I'm losing my mind.

No. For real this time.

Before BlogHer my recent vacation to California, I had been feeling really down. I get in funks a lot anyway, but lately, I haven't been able to shake it.  I was forcing myself to go to work, and since I am my own boss, it's unfortunately easy to play hooky. 

My relationship with Shellie has been iffy, too, and right before I left, we'd gone through the "I don't know where we're going" thing.  And it's all me.  It honestly is this time.  I feel nothing but lost - in my relationship, in my job, in my general direction in life.  I'm irritable. I'm sad. I'm confused.

California broke that up a little it and I was able to let go of a lot of my stress and confusion...and just be.  I felt so much more like myself.  No stress, no pain.  No real life.

When I returned, I joked about going through some sort of detox, but it hasn't gone away.  And, actually, it's gotten worse.  I've suspected depression for quite awhile now, but keep blowing it off because once I'm ready to go to the doctor, I feel a little better and talk myself out of it.

Now? Stress is piling up on top of that depression (or whatever the hell is going on).  Stress of hating my job.  Stress of having my truck smashed into - and now the insurance company is trying to say that was OUR fault because of how we were parked.  Stress of dropping school before and now not having a GPA that will ever allow me back into college.  Stress of my business failing. Stress of wanting to go to the doctor, but not having insurance. Stress of moving to another state without a job and Shellie is not coming with me. 

(Oh. Did I not mention yet that she's not moving to Texas with me?  She's going to finish school here - we'll be living in different states for about 3 years. THREE. YEARS.)

All of that plus me being fruity anyway?  Not a good combo, apparently. The last two days have been mental hell for me.  Yesterday I stayed at home from work so I could cry.  I cried about losing my dog. And then I cried about crying so much.  I had to make myself go to my dance class - and I only did that because I was going to LOSE. IT. if I didn't.

Today I stayed at home from work because I. Can't. Leave. The. House.  I can't make myself go to work. When I stand up to go, I feel like I'm going to throw up, that's how badly it forces me to say NO to normal life. I can't talk to anyone on the phone. I have clients I need to call, but my fingers refuse to dial. 

I went to lunch with an old employer today to discuss a very decent and money-making (though temporary) job offer.  I couldn't concentrate on anything because my energy was spent trying to not lose it at the table and burst into tears.  For no apparent reason.

I was trying to catch up on blogs today, but I couldn't stay focused enough to read more than a paragraph or two.  It started feeling like the more I tried to read, the more I forgot how to read.  I kept feeling like someone was covering my head with a thick blanket, like it was just out of my vision range, but close enough to make it hard to breathe and feel its weight.

Sounds totally batshit crazy, doesn't it?

It got so bad that I finally ended up curling up in a ball on the couch and making myself go to sleep.  And that's what I did all afternoon.  I slept.  Because I couldn't stand to be awake.

I feel a little better now that Shellie is home and I can talk to her.  Poor Shellie, who has no idea what to do with me.  I feel down a lot, but try to hide it because I don't want to worry her.  Or anyone else.  But I told her.  At least, I attempted to tell her.  It came out more like "I'm saaaaad...whaaaaaaaaa!!"  But I think she gets that I'm not ok.  That I need help.

That's all I have in me.  I don't know what else to say.  I don't know what's going on with me and my brain, but it's not making life very freaking easy right now.

I'm ready to sleep again.  Or cry.  Or cry and then sleep.

That'll do.

Well, I got a phone call from my brother a couple of days ago.  After he told me how awesome and beautiful and uber cool I am, he said he received a letter letting him know that they've begun construction on the house.

The house!

As of this weekend :

(look! sticks and rocks and stuff!)

Folks, this means in about 3 months (or so), I will be moving to another state. Oh yeah, baby. That deserves a repeat announcement : 

I'M.LEAVING.OKLAHOMA.

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Holy balls, I'm excited!  I'm almost 31 and have never lived outside of the state.  One thing I want to do in this life is to live an assload of different places.  So far?  Not so much on the moving around thing - I've been stagnant for far too long. 31 years in a row of Oklahoma...it's boring. And draining.

And did I mention boring?

Everyone asks me, "so what are you going to DO when you're there??"

My answer is always an embarrassed shrug and an, "I dunno yet."  It's the same answer I give when people ask me here, "what do you want to DO when you grow up?"

Thirty-one.  And still no clue what I'm doing.

But, HEY, that's another blog post.  Let me jump around and get drunk dance because :

I

AM

FINALLY

MOVING!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thankyouverymuch.

p.s. Did I mention I'm moving soon??

p.p.s. It's been brought to my attention that I need to say WHERE I'm moving to.  Frisco, Texas.  NOT in Oklahoma.  Not FAR...but it's a step in the right direction.

Quick blog layout question. How do people put blog blurbs* in their sidebar...ones that you can comment on and that will show up in bloglines?  Is it a major undertaking or am I smart enough to do it?

Thanks!

*see : MochaMomma's 'Cuppa the Day' and Little.Yellow.Different's 'mini-blog'

Freaking seriously.

A few hours ago, I was sitting here, whining about having NOTHING to blog about, which is pretty much my nightly routine.  Shellie was telling me to oh-my-god-just-stop-whining, which is pretty much her nightly routine.

Just as I was about to give up and throw a full-on temper tantrum because waaaaaah, I have nothing to talk about, there was a ruckus. A loud, scary ruckus. Loud and scary enough that we both said, "OH MY GOD" and ran outside.

Cars everywhere. It smelled like burnt rubber and hot oil.  Someone had crashed their truck in front of my house.  It wasn't the prettiest thing ever. The driver obviously went into the windshield.  We could hear the woman screaming. Shellie ran to them, I ran to the phone and called 911.  When I came back out, I saw what they crashed into.

My truck. Head-on. 

The truck was parked on the side of the street...now it was about 25-30 feet down and crashed into our privacy fence.  Between where it was parked and the fence was Shellie's car.  It got knocked to the side and smooshed by the force of my truck. 

My truck!

Shellie's car!

Our beautiful fence!

More drama (including a fugitive! on the run!) and pictures below.

Apparently, this lady got drunk and stabbed someone at a bar up the street.

Stabbed! She STABBED someone! By my house!  (Things like that don't happen here! Breaking news! Next on Channel 8! World's Scariest Stabby Drunk Ladies!!) 

After she got done with her stabbage, she decided to run in case the cops came.  She was flying through our neighborhood, close to 65mph, according to the people that were here.  Well, she was...until she found my truck sticking through her windshield.

Come to find out, the lady was on probation for something else. She, stupidly, was going 65 through the neighborhood with no seatbelt.  She has head trauma, broken ribs, and a collapsed lung.  We have a totalled truck, a car without an ass, and a fence with broken slats.

Damn. It.

More crashage:

<-----------  I think the picture to your left pretty much sums up how I felt all last weekend.

(Thanks, Karl, for letting me steal the picture right off your Flickr album without my even asking!)

Because I need some freaking REHAB, bitch.

Has anyone seen my Funny?  Because I've lost the damn thing somewhere between here and the San Jose airport.  And while you're looking for that with me, could you help check for my Enthusiasm, my Drive, and my Ability-to-post-at-least-one-freaking-blog?  Those are gone too.

WTF?

I know most of yous are tired of hearing about the "B" word (I won't say 'BlogHer', I swear. You don't wanna hear 'BlogHer' anymore, do you?  Ok.  For you, I won't mention 'BlogHer'. Consider it done, my friend.).

(BlogHer!)

I'm going through total detox right now.  I'm sweating and twitching. I swear I keep seeing bloggers around town (Suebob filling up at the gas station, Sweetney picking up some Wendy's). When someone introduced themselves to me yesterday, I stammered for what felt like 30 minutes because my brain couldn't decide between Chase or my 'real life' name.  And I almost want to wear my badge around my neck because I feel totally naked without it.

(What?? I said almost. I'm not sitting here wearing it right now, tears streaming down my face. Geez, people.)

It seems like since I got home, all I've done is read blogs to scrape just one more little ounce of the weekend away, to see one more Flickr set, to remember one. more. detail. Just in the last 2 days, I've added about 30 new blogs to my Bloglines.  And I still haven't been able to go through my mile-high stack of business cards I received at BlogHer that one place with all the people.

By this time next year, someone will probably have to commit me.  And it will probably have to be in Chicago because when people start saying goodbye after the conference, I might have a breakdown and latch myself to Lisa Stone's leg and scream that "I ain't goin nowhere and you ain't neither!"

I can't freaking wait.

Ok. I need to step away from the computer.

And go shower.

And finally get out of my jammies (AHEM1:40pm).

And seriously. What the HELL was in the BlogHer food?!  Dammit!

I learned some things over the last weekend...very important things...very life-altering things. And now I share them with you so that you may go forth and spread the divine knowledge.  (Really, I just wanted another bullet-point post because, damn, it's fun!)

• Just because you're in a hurry the night before you leave for the big blogger conference and want to be all perfectly groomed beforehand, DO NOT take a semi-dull razor to your bikini area because, hey, it's the only thing you have right then.  Because, if you do, the resulting razorburn will make you walk like a cowboy who rode a bronco too hard the day before. Ou.Ch.
• DO NOT, under any circumstances, rush up to a semi-familiar-looking person and enthusiastically introduce yourself, and when she hugs you because she knows who you are, totally call her by the wrong name multiple times because she.will.be.offended.and.you.will.look.like.a.moron.   GOD, I'm such a moron.
• If you forget to pack toothpaste, and so does your roommate, don't worry - you can buy a tube of it for $94587239482 down the hall from the vending machine.
• Don't ever plan on losing 10 pounds before a big blogger conference...if you do so, you will instead gain 5.
• Look up when taking photos. Having more than one chin isn't flattering. Having more than two is even worse.
• Having "Taste The World" and pictures of sushi on your blog business cards makes everyone moan uninterestedly, "ooooh, so you're a food blog".  Look into changing that.
• Being a non-smoker (3.5 years smokefree, baby!) and then smoking a whole pack of cigarettes over a weekend will make you insanely crave another pack when you get home.  Who knew?
• Karl REALLY likes it when he walks into your hotel room and you don't have a shirt on.
• Izzymom is probably the most beautiful woman on the planet.
• One weekend of screaming, smoking, squeeeeeing, and drunken LOUD talking will result in not having a voice when you get back home.
• One CAN survive on alcohol and junk food alone for at least 4 days.  Though, it may make one spend lots of quality time in the bathroom once one gets home.