Post-BlogHer Thoughts at O’Hare
So I bought my way into the United Red Carpet Club at O’Hare for the free wi-fi. That $50 is more than justified by the 20 minutes or so I’m going to spend here in this T-mobile Hot Spot, right? Good thing I think through my purchases. There’s a recession on, you know.
I needed to spend this money because I can’t cope with Concourse C right now. After three days in the womb-like embrace of the BlogHer conference, I emerged from the Sheraton like a mole, squinting and fumbling my way back out into reality (there are men here, lots of them. I had forgotten what they look like. And smell like. Girls smell better.) So the first class lounge is a necessary refuge.
I can’t tell you much about BlogHer right now because there’s too damned much to process. I tweeted from a couple of the sessions (when the Sheraton wi-fi cooperated) so there’s a digital trail of some of my thoughts, but that’s only the half of it. There are Smart Client Memos to write recapping conference highlights, tons of business cards to dump into Outlook, a million more new friends to follow on Twitter, still more blogs to feed into Google Reader….business connections to be optimized, blossoming friendships (I hope) to be nurtured.
My brain in mush. I am wrinkled (the linen Michael Kors tunic seemed like a good idea 12 hours ago). I am missing the Russian and son like crazy. I am hoping this flight back to Newark isn’t delayed. But I also feel — hmmm. Like a raw nerve, but in a good way. Being cooped up with that much estrogen does that to a gal. Nothing I could write would capture the energy, creativity, beauty, strength, charisma, humor, generosity, sweetness, snarkiness, wit, sexiness, confidence, vulnerability and (in some cases) insanity at that conference. Those women were electrifying.
So more to come on BlogHer. Just let me take a nap first. Meanwhile, I do want to let you know that — as at BlogHer — beauty abounds if you’re open and looking for it. Even in airports. There is a tunnel at O’Hare that leads from security in Terminal One to the gates and honestly — it’s spectacular. It looks like something out of “Logan’s Run.” It’s a series of neon light sculptures that move to music. You stand on the people mover and look at yourself reflected in the mirrored walls and ceilings, and watch the lights dance above your head.