And now the full story can be told.
I arrived in New York with no less than 1,200 glow bracelets in my luggage. And two pounds of unicorn-shaped confetti.
If I'd had my full control-freak way with everything, I would have been carrying 1,000 glow necklaces with me too, but Jason had a moment of common sense early Thursday morning and lugged those boxes to FedEx instead. I'd also, at one point, lobbied for driving to New York so I could have physical possession of 800 packets of Pop Rocks, 500 unicorn-horn lollipops, a 100 or so posters and half a dozen life-sized cardboard stand-ups of Darth Vader and Spock and the Jonas Brothers and our Commander-in-Chief.
(All of these, by the way, I ordered from a coffee shop one morning during our power outage, spending literally HOURS scrolling through a dizzying array of posters, trying to find that perfect balance of GOOD pop culture crap and IRONIC pop culture crap. And then this guy was waiting for a seat and loudly bitching about how crowded it was and how rude everybody with laptops was being, saying something like, "I mean LOOK, some of them are JUST SHOPPING!")
("JUST SHOPPING." YOU SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH, SIR. THIS FAIRYLAND UNICORN POSTER IS a) VERY IMPORTANT, and b) TOTALLY DOPE.)
If you bumped into me on Saturday, chances are the frayed edges of my nervous breakdown were starting to show. Don't get me wrong, planning Sparklecorn was 100% a labor of love and privilege and squee for Tracey and I, starting many, MANY months ago when we sat down with Mary Alice at Charm City Cakes, discussing the physics involved in a bucking unicorn cake, fighting back choking on our own tongues when Duff Goldman walked in.
It was also a party with over 10 times the number of guests that attended my own WEDDING.
But after a brief meeting with the Hilton events people, things seemed...okay. Together. Smooth-ish. They were like, "Yeah, we got this. It's kind of what we DO." I calmed down enough to participate in a dance-off with CoolMomPicks (SPOILER: I LOST) before heading to my room to get all dressed up and glittery, confident that I'd arrive in the ballroom just in time to see everything coming together and to toss that unicorn confetti on some tables and get my first taste of a Sparkledew cocktail.
OH. EM. GEE. YOOGUYS.
We walked in to see...rows of chairs. No tables. No dance floor. No cake. No DJ set-up, no disco ball, no posters. Scads of bloggers still milling around and typing on keyboards. The closing keynote had run long, and the room was JUST NOW BEING TURNED, 45 minutes behind schedule, 75 minutes before the party was supposed to begin, and the Hilton people were officially Not Making Any Promises.
And there was nothing we could do about any of it.
Or was there? DUN DA DA DAAAA!
Tracey sent out a Mamapop-wide S.O.S. email, asking for everyone and anyone to pleeeeeeease get down to the ballroom to help out. Turns out they were already there, waiting outside, and I looked up just in time to see this line of fabulously dressed-up people marching in with looks of singular determination on their faces: Goddamnit, they were here to SAVE SPARKLECORN.
Within seconds, everyone was shoeless and mobilized, grabbing poster after poster and scattering across the room to hang them. Other people wrestled with tape-dispensing duties and assembling Snape and Wizard of Oz stand-ups. I cracked glow-sticks over my knee 100 at a time and we scattered confetti and candy onto the tables as soon as the tablecloths landed on top.
By 8 p.m. I was hoarse and sweaty and my hair had already gone flat, but DAMMIT, we'd done it, in just under 45 minutes or so.
And it was all so very worth it. I had the best time. It looks like a lot of other people did too.
(Special thank you to the BlogHer ladies for all the sponsor-finding and hand-holding, our amazing photographer Ryan, and the Mamapop folks: BHJ, Palinode, Schmutzie, Amy, Laurie, Sarah, Kelly, Miss Banshee, Amber, K Best, Katie, Jodi, Marilyn, Melissa, TwoBusy. Thank you to Charlie for bringing me that vodka, and to Jason for remembering that I'd left the fucking glow bracelets in my room.)
(And thank everybody else for sticking with this entry. I leave you with this, from Friday night:)
(WHAT? I just think Endless Love is a really, really boring choice for karaoke, and decided to lie down until it was over. WHAT OF IT?)