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