Julie Pippert: Using My Words

While the rest of you. . . shine your fancy tickets to BlogHer, buy new cute yet comfy shoes, plot wardrobes with the intensity of a brigadier general, check the mailbox hourly for razzle dazzle cards, RSVP to parties that overlap, hack into databases to see who is going to be where and when, plan escape routes with trusted friends, bribe city officials for the official blueprints of the Hilton NYC, create elaborate index card systems of conference tracks and panels, study Facebook photos and bios like a sorority girl before rush, set up Google alerts for any blog or Web mention of BlogHer 10 (plus BlogHer 10+your name, just in case), hound insiders for secret appearance special guest names, and more. . . I am in complex and highly technical preparations myself to be the official BlogHer StalkHer. First, it's necessary that every StalkHer suit up in the appropriate outfit. I'm thinking this looks about right, minus, of course, the strong masculine jawline and five o'clock s...

Can you hear it? This cat could easily be channeling Hank Williams, Jr., "You'll cry and cry and try to sleep / But sleep won't come the whole night through / Your cheatin' heart will tell on you / When tears come down like falling rain / You'll toss around and call my name... " Last night I was being kept awake all night by my five year old, who again had a nightmare and needed to climb into bed with me. It's not her presence in the bed on its own, it's the way she kicks, hard, especially in the kidneys and rear end. My husband and I greet each other groaning every morning after she visits. We've started stacking pillows around her, between her and us, to get some protection. Neither of us are kickers, but we are still happy to blame each other's genetics for this child. Anyway, so you know how when it's 3 a.m. and you are laying in bed, too alert to sleep, too sleepy to get up and your mind starts running around crazy topics because your...