A is for the Ass that Amalah Ate After Absorbing Ample Amounts of Alcohol

B is for the Beautiful Balcony Bestowing Bodacious Brainwaves and Bountiful Business Blueprints

(or here if the GLMPS embed doesn’t work)

C is for the Clamors of Contentment by Conference Conversations Concerning California’s Climate

D is for the Delirious Dancing by the Digital Denizens and Divas During the Digs, Shin.

E is for the Estrogen, Entertainment and Excitement Emanating from Every Entrance, Exit, and Event

F is for Fun and Frolicking with Fantastic Friends, Fine Fellows, Fabulous Females and Familiar Fuckers

Photo courtesy of 24 at Heart (http://www.twentyfouratheart.com/)

G is for the Glitter. The Great Gaudy Gleaming Gobs of Glitzy Glitter Gathering on Gyrating Guests and my Great Goofy Guise and Gay Grimace Gunking up the (photo)Graphs.

H is for the Homosexual Harrison who Happened to Hop around the Hall

I is for the Idiocy Illustrated by the Indication that the next Iteration is on the Island (of Manhattan)

J is for Juggling Jam-sessions and Journeys to other Joints all in one Juncture. Also, for Jews and Jesus.

K is for Karma Keenly Kicking me in the Keister after Kopious Konsumption

L is for the Love and Legendary Laughs between Loyal and Loquacious Living souls

M is for Me being a Magical and Masterful and Magnificent Mortal to My Many Marveling Mooning Minions

N is for the Nights of Nonsense, Noshing, and Nightcaps.

O is for the Outspoken Ordinary Oxygen-breathing Organisms who Orated their Original Odes

Image: Asher-Sears Photography

P is for the Pioneer Woman Pleasantly Providing Provisions and Pleasantries at a Petite Private Party and Perhaps Partaking in Profanity

Q is for the Questions about whether or not I’m Queer

R is for Resonating a Resurgence to Read what others Record

S is for Suebob’s Scarlet Stapler and the Silly Sexual Stance by my Stout Swollen Self

T is for The Tantalizingly Tasty Treats Throughout Town

Lobster Omelet from Huapangos

Fish and Chips from Sally's Seafood On The Water

U is for the Unicorns

V is for the Visual Vagina View in the Vicinity of every Vestibule

W is for the Wistful Wishing that the Weekend Would not Wrap-up

XYZ is for the spit-take when I got my final hotel bill

Have you missed me? I’ve been around, just not here.

Over at the new satire site, Insert Eyeroll, I dispense advice with my monthly column. You can submit questions and know that you’re getting sage advice that will in no way cause your own death and/or humiliation. Go check out my debut post.

As I have been for the last several months, I write about pop culture at MamaPop, and by pop culture, I mean geeky movies and tits.

And over at MoxieBird, I’ve written about eating dogs, improving Google Plus, and finding dead bodies, amongst other topics.

As for where I’m going, Wednesday morning at the ungodly hour of 6:30 AM, I take off for San Diego to attend BlogHer for six days.  I’ve already told you how to avoid being a loser and gave you my cell number so you can drunk text me.

Have you gotten the BlogHer 2011 app yet?  While not 100% perfect, it’s the best thing to come from BlogHer, ever.  It’s about as easy to use as their website is terrible to navigate. If you’re going to be at the conference this year, I’d suggest getting that app for your phone now.

For those of you who are voyeurs and stalkers, or if you’re actually going to be in San Diego, here is my anticipated schedule:

Wednesday, August 3rd

6:30 AM (EST)
Take off for San Diego

6:31 AM (EST)
Start drinking.

11:00 AM (PDT)
Land in San Diego. Stumble to taxi.

12:00 PM – 5:00 PM
Go find a doctor and get a prescription for my “anxiety” that can only be solved by some type of medicinal herb.

5:00 PM – ??
Eat, drink, be merry.

Thursday, August 4th

8ish AM – Noon
Wake up, masturbate, work, shower, masturbate, dance, dry hump something.

Noon – 6:00 PM
Eat, mingle, hug, grope, take photos, talk, dance, dry hump something.

6:00 PM – 8:00 PM
Evening at the Expo. Look at exhibitions, try not to dry hump anything.

8:00 PM – 10:00 PM
People’s Party.  I’m a people so this is totally my party.

10:00 PM – 12:00 AM
Queerosphere.  Be clear that I’m here but not queer.

12:00 AM – 5:00 AM
Road trip to Tijuana for a donkey show?

Friday, August 5th

8ish AM – 11:45 AM
Wake up, dry hump something, work, shower, masturbate, sing loudly to embarrassing music.

11:45 AM
Lunch.  Talk to people. Give them naked business cards and watch them weep in horror.

1:00 PM – 4:45 PM
Go see “Rise of the Planet of the Apes”.  Or maybe socialize.

4:45 PM – 6:00 PM
Voices  of the Year Community Keynote.  Applaud loudly for everyone who got chosen to read their posts while quietly judging their posts for not being nearly as good as mine.

6:00 PM – 8:00 PM
Voices of the Year Reception.  Enthusiastically congratulate everyone who got chosen to read their posts while quietly judging their posts for not being nearly as good as mine.

8:00 PM – 9:00 PM
Listen to Your Mother Open Mic.  No idea what the fuck this is.  Try to do comedy here if they’ll let me.

9:00 PM – 1:00 AM
Motherfucking Sparklecorn!   Wear glitter shirt, guyliner, and body glitter.  Try to keep Shawn and Whit from fucking me in the ass.  Fail.

Saturday, August 6th

8ish AM – 9:00 PM
Relax, swim, go to beach, bum fights, bury bums, dry hump everything in sight.

9:00 PM – 10:00 PM
Aiming Low Party.  Plan on dressing up, but then realize it’s Aiming Low, so fuck it.  Wear a thong and pink cowboy hat.

10:00 PM – 1:00 AM
CheeseburgHer Party.  Eat, drink, and be hairy.

Sunday, August 7th

8ish AM – 3:00 PM
Laugh at all of you fuckers who have to get up early and check out of your hotel to fly home to your hectic lives.

3:00 PM – Midnight
Get bored out of my skull wondering why I didn’t fly out on Sunday.

Monday, August 8th

Fly home.  Use ointment on sore arms.  Cry myself to sleep.  While dry humping.

The three As: Alphamom (Isabel Kallman), Avitable, and Amalah (Amy Storch)

Are you going to BlogHer this year?  Although I’m not a veteran, having only attended the last two BlogHer conferences in New York and Chicago, I am perfectly willing to call myself an expert in any arena.

Many bloggers choose to blog as their primary means of expression because they experience some level of social anxiety.  By gravitating towards a media that allows them to be honest and open and emotionally vulnerable, yet protects them with the safety of separation via a computer screen and occasionally anonymity, bloggers as a general are not the most outgoing people in real-life situations.

This means that the crush of 3,000 people squealing in excitement as they see their friends for the first time in a year amid the palpable wave of estrogen can be really overwhelming to many people, veterans and first-timers alike.  It can be easy to feel alone or left out or even brushed aside, but most of that is about your perspective.  This could be the most fun that you’ll have all year, or it could be the most miserable mistake that you’ve ever made – it’s all up to you.

Here are some tips that might help:

1. Don’t see cliques where they don’t exist.  While bloggers as a whole are not socially outgoing, when it comes to those few people with whom they’re comfortable, they can band together.  This is not high school again, and this is not a group of the cool girls snubbing anyone else.  These are people who are just as socially nervous and awkward as you clinging to what’s familiar to them.
2. Take the initiative but have something valuable to say.  If you see a blogger who you enjoy reading, go up and say hi.  Introduce yourself.  Talk to her and share a little of yourself.  And be aware that it will be a quick conversation.  Every blogger there will be pulled in a hundred different directions at once, and in no way does that devalue your input or experience with that person.
3. Leave the negative attitude at home.  I said this in my post about BlogHer 2010 last year, but I think it bears repeating.  Whether you’re the type to whine and bitch about the men present at the conference or the drinking that goes on or the breastfeeding or the swag or the lack of swag or the exclusivity or the private parties or Nikon eating babies, shut. The. Fuck. Up. There is literally something at BlogHer for every type of personal blogger out there. Whether you’re married or single or gay or straight or a teetotaler or an alcoholic or childless or barren or fertile or Christian or Jewish or Muslim or black or white or yellow or purple, if you have the right attitude, you will walk away with something positive. And wouldn’t you rather come away with something positive rather than focusing on the few aspects that annoy or piss you off? I know I would.
4. You’re beautiful.  The memories that you’ll make during BlogHer will last you a lifetime, and if you hide away from the ONE KAJILLION cameras that will be everywhere, you’re only hurting yourself.  It may not seem like it, based on the number of times I post naked pictures of myself (and the business cards I’m bringing this year with even more nudity), but I’m quite camera shy.  I’m not comfortable with my weight (or worsening hair loss) yet, and I hate the thought of being in a thousand photos where I haven’t had control over the angle and how I’ll look.  This isn’t about that, though.  This is about celebrating yourself and your friends and your words and knowing that nobody cares what you look like, so just relax and have fun.
5. See what you want to see, do what you want to do.  There is no way that you’ll see every session and go to every track.  It’s okay.  Don’t let yourself get bogged down with your schedule.  Pick one or two sessions, a ROYO or two, and the community keynote – these are your must-attends.  For everything else, just play it by ear.  If you’re tired or you want to lay by the pool or go out to lunch with a new group of friends, it’s okay.  You’re not missing out on anything if you’re fully invested in whatever you’re doing at that moment.
6. Don’t mispronounce my name, because I will mock you mercilessly.
7. Come find me. My cell is 818-398-2079. Text me, come say hi, buy me a drink, and we’ll talk. I’ll be in San Diego from Wednesday morning until Monday afternoon, and I rarely bite.

Relax. Take deep breaths. Escape into your room for a few minutes if you need it. But have fun and enjoy the experience that is BlogHer.

Do you think that men should be banned from attending BlogHer?  Or are men an essential component to the entire blogging experience?

I’ve made it clear in previous posts that I think that men are a part of the woman blogger’s audience, and as such, our input and perspective does have some value.  But I’m well aware that not everyone shares that opinion.  Some people think that since women are a minority voice in many areas, personal blogging is their place to shine, and that providing men with any voice at BlogHer is taking away from that power.  Some people just don’t want men involved at all because they don’t feel like they can be themselves unless they’re only around women.

Regardless of your perspective, men are going to attend.  We will be there, and maybe we can set up a space to talk about the male presence and why you think it’s beneficial or not.

You may be aware that BlogHer offers a session track called “Room Of Your Own”, in which the community is invited to suggest topics and vote on the sessions that they want to see as part of the BlogHer agenda.  And while TPTB at BlogHer don’t always listen to the community if it wants something counter to their desire, I’ve always felt that they can’t always ignore the loudest, squeakiest wheel.

And I want to be that wheel.  I’ve suggested a ROYO called “Men at BlogHer: Do We Belong?”  It’s designed to be a forum for those who are both pro- and con- male attendance – one place where we can talk about it civilly and see if there is any common ground.

If this is a topic that means something to you, I invite you to vote for it.

You have to be logged into BlogHer’s site first.

Then, go to the page for my ROYO and click “I would attend this session”.  And, if you want, you can tweet it or share it on FB and get others to vote, too!

If you have an idea that you’d like to submit for a room of your own, that’s easy, too.  Just go here and follow the instructions!

Thank you for your vote – hope to see you in San Diego!

It’s been drilled into my head many times that you should be able to learn something from every experience and interaction you have with someone else. I used to fight against that notion, but I’ve since learned that it’s true. You can learn something from everyone. The five days I spent in New York City encompass my entire lifetime New York experience, and I walked away bursting with knowledge and life lessons. Not all of them are deep lessons, and some of them are tongue in cheek, but here’s what I learned from this year’s BlogHer conference:

• If you drop your iPhone on the floor of a karaoke bar, the back may shatter into a million bajillion pieces, and even though that won’t beat the ceiling of the bar falling in for most damage done in one night, it will make you very sad until the amazing Kim helps you out at the Apple store and gets you a replacement for free.
• A gyro at 4 AM from a street cart is the best food ever.
• Even though I always thought I’d hate New York, it’s very easy to quickly fall in love with the moving, breathing rhythm of the city. There’s something palpable about the flow of people and cars and the richness of the environment that is immensely appealing and makes me want to pack up and move there.
• I need to appreciate the fact that I am either egotistical, ignorant, or confident enough to go up and talk to strangers and not feel overwhelmed by a crowd. I admire the courage and strength it must take to approach the crowd when you feel alone, and I don’t think I would be able to do anything except hide in my hotel room if I had to overcome that.
• A bottle of Grey Goose is totally worth $425 when you’re with a group of friends, old and new.
• I couldn’t feel prouder of one of my best friends than when she read her post (and made me cry, fucker) at the community keynote.
• I didn’t think it was possible for me to consume as much vodka as I did, stay up until 4-5 AM every night, wake up at 8 AM every morning, and not fall into some type of coma. And while I think that I hold my liquor well, I should only drink to excess in moderation. Which I totally just made into a T-shirt!.
• The good intentions involved in bringing my workout equipment to New York City was significantly offset by the reality of eating unhealthy food, drinking unhealthy drinks and not working out at all, in the slightest, in any way possible.
• Even I can be reduced to schoolgirl giggles sometimes.

  

• Men’s bathrooms are bastions of urine-stained floors, gloryholes and gay Senators. Women’s bathrooms are awesome parties.

  

  

  

  

People (in order of appearance, left to right): Megan, Jenny, Katie, Izzy, Jessica

• No party is complete without a unicorn cake.

  

• Unless there are cheeseburgers and beds.

  

  

  



People: Bossy, Amy, (help), Britt, (help), Lena, Lindsay, Isabel, me.

• Ladies love geeks.

  

People: Ali, Jenn

• Polaroids can still be fun.

  

• If you’re thirsty, just stick a straw in the cleavage of the nearest woman and you’ll be instantly refreshed.

  

People: Lotus, Dawn, Jules

• It’s really pimp to surround yourself on both sides with beautiful women. It’s less pimp to do “pimp hands” when you’re drunk.

  

  

  

  

  

People: Isabel, Amy, Ali, Metalia, Mishi, Shauna, Jessica, Loukia, Grace, Jules

• Asians taste like brimstone and cotton candy, but then you’re hungry for more 30 minutes later.

  

People: Anissa

• If you aren’t somewhere that you can urinate on everything, leave your mark in other ways.

  

  

  

People: Faiqa

• Sometimes, people who were acquaintances in your past life might become people you want to be your friend now.

  

People: Rich, Faiqa, Chris

• Some people can really pull off the headband look.

  

People: Alli

• Even though we barely saw each other all weekend, it was tremendously comforting to know that my best friends were there with me.

  

People: Britt, Faiqa

• Duchess isn’t spelled “Dutchess”!

  

People: Jenn

• There is always room in your life among your awesome existing friends to make new, amazing friends.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  People: Casey, Bossy, Liz, Angella, Toni, Jenn, Heather, Jessica

You can find the entire Flickr set here. If you weren’t included, it means either that (a) I didn’t have a photo of you regularly available, (b) I’m so tired that I forgot important people, (c) a and b, or (d) I’m just a retard and please forgive me.

This weekend I got to hang out with old friends, put faces with names I’ve known for a while, and make brand new friends. I explored a new city, fell in love with it, and spent as little time in my hotel room as possible. This was one of the best trips I’ve had and the minor complaints I had are far outweighed by the positive experience. I can’t wait for the next conference that I can attend, whether it’s BlogHer 2011 or something earlier, like Blissdom, Mom 2.0, or my next cookout. You’re all invited.

In other Avita-news, today is the birthday of someone I love dearly. She’s inspirational, wonderful, creative, yet pragmatic. And she doesn’t look nearly as old as she thinks she does. Happy birthday, Megan!

For the past five days, I have been in New York City for this little conference called BlogHer 2010. I had a blast, and I plan on writing a full recap soon, but for now I thought I would talk about something that happened that made me realize how brave I am.

I don’t have any problem speaking to new people or introducing myself. I’m not shy about talking to anyone, even the bloggers that are considered “big”. Throw me into a room of random people, and I’ll find somebody to talk to with relative ease.

But you know what I won’t do? Do you know what event shakes me to my utter core and makes me tremble and want to cry? Do you know what I thought I was never brave enough to do, regardless of the circumstances?

Poop in a public bathroom.

Like a friend of mine, I refuse to use public bathrooms for anything other than urinary satisfaction. When I was a child, I went to summer camp for a week and didn’t poop the entire time. My mother still loves to tell the story about driving me home and watching me sprint for the bathroom, leaving my clothes in my wake.

So, where do you think is the worst possible place to have the sickening, twisting realization that it was going to be physically impossible to clench your ass tight enough until you get home?

Not just a public bathroom. How about an airport bathroom?

Wait. That’s not bad enough. How about the Newark Airport bathroom?

Newark Airport is, in the words of my esteemed Voices of the Year Keynote Speaker friend, “the dirtiest airport I’ve ever been in, and I’ve been in airports in India and Nepal, and this is fucking disgusting compared to those.”

I’m not going to go into detail about my Newark poop adventure, but suffice it to say that if the other patrons in the bathroom thought they heard the occasional sob, they’d be right.

And I totally have to burn these clothes.