So...I'm leaving in just a couple hours on an honest-to-God business trip, with a suitcase and everything, like a fancy business woman, who regularly gets asked to speak at social media conferences. Social media! Have you heard about this shit yet? I think it might turn into something one of these days. The Hulk, probably, or that thing from Cloverfield.
But no lie, I'm going to be at immunize.org's Social Media Summit in Philly, co-paneling sessions about...blogs. And Facebook. Mostly on a pretty basic level, which, THANK GOODNESS, because otherwise I will run out of web-related expertise in the first 10 minutes. Still, though. I should probably write down some notes, or at least make sure Facebook hasn't reset my password or something. "And this is the login screen! All you do is...wait, fuck, hang on."
The funny thing is that public speaking doesn't phase me in the slightest. Speaking in front of a room full of people, riffing about topics that I may have just a smidge more than a passing knowledge of? Cake! Pie! Bring it! Meanwhile: TRAVEL. OMFG. WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE.
So I am currently channeling all my copious amounts on anxiety onto an hour-and-a-half train ride, a train ride I have to GET TO and ENTER CODES for my tickets, codes that will most likely TOTALLY NOT WORK and then I will MISS THE TRAIN because I only arrived at the station TWO HOURS EARLY and GAAAAAAH I think maybe packing another extra tank top and/or set of underwear might calm me down a little bit. I've already packed four. I come back tomorrow night. Yeah, I better put another pair of panties in there JUSTINCASE.
*gasp, wheeze, flop sweat*
And now let me leave you with a photo from this weekend. This is what you do when your son has lost all the tiny plastic lightsabers from his Star Wars toys:
Juice box straw wrappers! I am BRILLIANT. This is the sort of thing that puts you on panels at social media conferences, you guys. Take a note. I mean it. Wait. Why aren't you writing this stuff down? WHERE ARE YOU GOING COME BACK I LOVE YOU