I'm going to BH, are you?

It happens every year about this time...women bloggers of every shape and form begin posting about their excitement to be attending BlogHer. Who is rooming with whom, where they will go party, all the free shit they are getting...my bloglines are filled with this stuff.

I've never been to BlogHer. And, I doubt I will ever go really.

It's not that I'm bitter. Actually, I enjoy reading some of these posts. Lindsay's at Suburban Turmoil was hilarious last year. Melissa at Suburban Bliss captured me as a loyal blog reader several years ago with her drinking stories and rubbing elbows with the mighty Dooce. No doubt, this year Kimberly at Petroville will do something crazy funny and I'll enjoy reading about that.

Every year, it reads like the party of the century, and I'm not there...AGAIN.

And, quite frankly, that bites.

So, I've decided that this year, while all you great blogging gals are partying it up at the conference and learning how to increase traffic, get more writing gigs, and just increase your fabulousity, I am going to be attending a conference of my own. It's a new one. Not many have heard of it, I'm sure. In fact, it may only exist in my mind, but I'm sure you might play along if you're stuck at home too. I'm calling it BlahHer.

We'll sit and whine on our blogs about how we're in the worst part of the summer--the most boring part when camps wrap up and the only thing you really have to look forward to is back-to-school shopping. And, did I ever mention I really hate back-to-school shopping?

Who is with me? Anyone? Anyone? Buellar? Buellar?

So, yeah. In your face, BlogHer. You are sooo yesterday...

BlahHer.
Catch the Magic!