At noon, the annual and beloved Blogher Pillow Fight started. It ended 26 minutes later because someone lost a contact.
At 12:28, all 6576 members of the Blogging Community searched on hands and knees for the missing orb.
At 12:35, SomeonesMama (or was it SomeonesMom?) found it and was awarded a decade's worth of Swiffer dry mop sheets.
At 1:00, we broke for Nabisco cookies and talked and talked about boys and stuff and shoes and Swiffer. And Walmart.
None of that happened.
What did happen? I sat in airports and/or on an airplane for a grand total of 27 flipping hours. Let me repeat that: I sat in airports and/or on an airplane for 27 fucking hours.
Three of those 27 hours were at JFK. I did not go the bar, but the group of firefighters en route to Chicago for a bachelor party did. Those guys can drink! Hats off fellas! Too bad they couldn't predict the future because they would have seen that once we were allowed to board the plane, we would sit there for another three hours because um, NO ONE COULD FIND THE PILOT. (Hello Jet Blue? Send money to Ms Picket.) (Also: if that guy's not dead somewhere, I'm gonna fucking kill him.) (Joking.) (But, we are SO not gonna be friends.)
Let's just say that I could go shot for shot with NY's Bravest and make way less of scene.
Three of those 27 hours were at JFK. I did not go the bar, but the group of firefighters en route to Chicago for a bachelor party did. Those guys can drink! Hats off fellas! Too bad they couldn't predict the future because they would have seen that once we were allowed to board the plane, we would sit there for another three hours because um, NO ONE COULD FIND THE PILOT. (Hello Jet Blue? Send money to Ms Picket.) (Also: if that guy's not dead somewhere, I'm gonna fucking kill him.) (Joking.) (But, we are SO not gonna be friends.)
Let's just say that I could go shot for shot with NY's Bravest and make way less of scene.
I would not be yelling "when thuh friggin pilot gets here, let's ask him how he long he usually wacks it" and I would not be yelling, "where's the friggin pilot yo, where's the friggin douchebag yo" and I would not say, "listen beyotches, i have strippuhs waitin for me in one friggin owah! get the friggin pilot yo!"
This might have been funnier if I wasn't sitting next to a lovely 97 year old woman who was watching the Family Guy without a headset but who kept asking me to adjust the volume for her. Dearie. This might have been funnier if the cute toddler (so well behaved, honestly) wasn't chanting, "friggin mama friggin yo." And I'm all for strippers, but the visual was making me a little queasy.
When the cops or the air marshalls or whatever they were boarded to, um, kindly escort NY's Bravest off the stranded plane, I actually thought the whole thing was an elaborate joke. It wasn't.
I made it to Chicago in time for the Group Hair Removal Session -- 6576 women with wax strips. Which SomeonesMama was live-blogging. So that was good.
17commentsBrilliant Person Wrote...
I kind of love you. Not so much that I'd strip for you, mind you, because not attending BlogHer at all means I miss out on things like hair removal and pillow fights and bag heads, but I'm talking A LOT!
(also, just the thought of getting on a plane in my safe little world and flying to NYC next year makes me queasy)(but that's not to be confused with the love)
Wow! SomeonesMama was there??? I soooo wanted to meet her. Damn. Why do I miss out on all the fun.
My brows could use a touch up.
Damnit!!!!
I missed the Waxing?!!
*sigh*
Was the 98 year old translating? Like on Airplane?
I would have totally said the shit about the pilot jerking it and being a dbag...because I work in a bar and that seems totally normal to me, great grandmother, toddler or no. Just saying. Oh did I ever tell you about my Atlantic City trip where they threatened to land the plane in Cleveland and arrest me? Oh, cuz that's happened, no joke.
That sounds headache inducing.
And yet another person I didn't find. *sigh* I'm sorry I missed you.
I wanted to take a taxi to the airport and bitchslap the JetBlue people for keeping Ms. Picket from us for so long.
But you made up for it when you got there. That scrapbooking session was awesome.
So it was like a foreign exchange thing. You temporarily traded in your short drunk people for some tall drunk (potentially hot but most likely not at all) firefighters.
Hilarious! I'm so sorry that happened. There's nothing worse than being stuck on an airplane, but HEY if I were stuck on a plane for that long I would love to be stuck with a bunch of firefighters.
That reminds me. I was stuck in an elevator once on the way to Steve's birthday dinner. Actually the whole party was stuck in the elevator with us as well as the ice-cream birthday cake. I had to call the restaurant and tell them the whole dinner party was going to be late. All 15 of us. Yes we should have known better. Some hot fireman rescued us. I thought about faking a fainting spell. Childish I know. But thus my 'thing' for firemen.
I'm sure that looking back its all hysterical and shit but I do feel horrible that you actually LIVED it.
Ps- Read the book cover to cover in 4 hours. AWESOME!! Good job Jane Austen!
Much like Major Bedhead, I also missed you. Although I noticed you tried to call at 2 am, so it sounds like you had a pretty good time... (after the air marshals took away the drunk firemen?)
I'm so sorry I missed you and Carolyn both; send me a link to the book because I can't wait to get my hands on it, mmkay?
Then why did you have a mustache when I met you?
You have somehow made BlogHer more and less attractive in one single post. Hmm. To go or not to go in 2010?
You had me at panty raid.
Damn tease.
So, what marvelous happenings occurred the other 24 hours in airports and/or on an airplane?
I'm pretty sure the concept of a "group hair removal session" will be popping back up in my nightmares.
Sorry I missed you at the conference!
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