Do You Know the Way to San Jose?

For those astute and avid readers of Message in a Bottle, you may have noticed I mentioned BlogHer in my previous entry. I have not only reserved a hotel room at super discount rates, but I registered for the conference itself last night. And thus begins the panic over what to wear! I need something that says stylish-but-not-standoffish so that people will know just by looking at me that pure genius prose is all they'll find on my blog ... and a lot of cat photos. A lot of the blogs I read are "mommy bloggers," which I cringe at typing those words for all the stereotypes that they convey but lack a better definition. For that matter, most of the blogs I read are women. And I don't know if this says more about me or more about the blogs - probably some of both. So I'm curious to see how I fit in amongst a conference of my peers, as it were.

The Puddin' is tagging along as my trophy boyfriend and will be attending the "cocktail parties" each evening (and every time I say cocktail, I giggle in a completely immature fashion). But mostly I'm excited about going because it's something for me. I have an intense interest in the internet and hearing other peoples' stories as well as having an excuse to tell mine. Ugh, I'm going to stop talking about this before this sounds even more like a job interview or personals ad. Single white female looking for increased traffic, ad space and click thrus - no fat chicks*.

And on that note, I present my cowboy boots in all their sharky glory.

* Yes, fat chicks would be fine and no, I'm not really that obnoxious. As long as those fat chicks have good RSS feeds.

I'm an old cowhand

Howdy, my little cowpokes! I'm back from San Antonio! I know most of you didn't even know I was going to San Antonio, but things like this happen when I get too busy or stressed out to update you all, Internet Friends. So our holidays were pleasant and uneventful. And I just got back from 5 days in Texas for our mid-winter conference. The conference pattern held in that I got a cold and am losing my voice at this very moment as I wait with baited breath for the weekend to come.

I have so much to tell you all and yet it's hard to sort it all out. I even made a list, but it was a crappy one. It's just hard to clear out all the committee meetings and NCIP protocols only to have the space in my brain filled with other worries like will my disgusting hangnails ever heal, does Zicam really help my cold, what is my Sleep Number, how easy Sudokus can be so easy and yet mild ones for damn hard, will Pittsburgh win the Super Bowl and if I'm so brave as to have booked my hotel for BlogHer why am I so scared about going.

So we'll accent the positive. The Puddin' and I successfully sold our old softside waterbed and bought a new Sleep Number bed (by Select Comfort). My current Sleep Number is a 40, but that may change as we get accustomed to the new bed. It's only been two days and already I'm very fond of it. Fond enough to forget just how expensive it was. It's just $200 a month for the rest of our lives, right?

I bought cowboy boots while in Texas. It started when Dan bought me a pink cowboy hat. And it is a fine hat, indeed. I wore it for 5 days straight, including during the Users Group meeting. As one librarian told me "you're much younger and hipper than I imagined." I tipped my pink cowboy hat at her and replied, "and pinker!" So the hat required shoes to match. Unfortunately, pink cowboy boots did not exist in my size. But they did have size 10AA super skinny boots made just for me. And they're even made of shark skin so I can tell the Puddin' that I've contributed to the removal of one more shark from the ocean to allay his fears. So since they were probably the only size 10AA shark skin boots in all of Texas and on sale, I decided I must have them. I made my purchase from the live action version of Yosemite Sam and called it a success.

Oh, and I read The Green Mile on one flight only to then watch the movie on my next flight. They are nearly identical in plot and character development for those of you who are disenclined to read the book and they were both excellent. Yet another movie where Tom Hanks pees on film. But be warned that if you scare easy, you should probably stick to comedies on your video iPod as during one scene in the movie I recoiled violently back in my seat and nearly inhaled the in-flight magazines from my seat pocket in surprise and fear. The poor little librarian on the flight with me didn't know what hit her (literally).

And that's all I really have to update at the moment. My brain is full and tomorrow is another big day. You get along now, little doggies.

O Christmas Tree

I just got a new remote control for my new Canon EOS Digital Rebel XT camera (love this camera). I wanted to try and get a good picture of Rich and I in front of our tree before we took it down for the season. The following photos are what became of that project.

I hearby promise to never obsess about my double chin as is evidenced by the fact I posted these pictures.

Oh, and Curtis and Matt, I promise you can't see my boobs in any of these photos, although in one Rich is trying to get his hand down my pants. I'll let you guess which one.