I did the same thing last year at BlogHer. The elevator doors were closing and I screamed out, "you're Her Bad Mother" at Catherine Connors. Who gave me the same look Judd Hirsch gave me.
And apparently, my body wanted to do it one more time.
I was sitting by a door when it opened and it walked Paula Deen with her security detail. She smiled and waved and I shouted out, "you're Paula Deen" and she said, "I am." And she kept walking. But I followed. And I took pictures.
She is really an incredible performer. We haven't made her recipes, so I can't speak to the food. But she is a joy to watch. So funny, so charming. Very warm.
And then there was Tim Gunn. I didn't wait in line to chat with him because...well...my wardrobe needs more help than one man can give it.
But he signed Deb's shirt.
I met Liza (pronounced Liz-ah, not Lie-zah) FINALLY. She is a superconnector, bringing me together with so many friends. And she is my doppelganger. We literally switched places at two schools--crisscrossed our undergrad and grad spaces. And she is just so funny and cool and sweet and wonderful.
Devra, Sarah, and I like to take this picture at every conference. I look like Sarah's child. The story of Sarah will take too long to place here, but I realize that how we know each other makes for a very good story so hopefully I will have it together by the Friday Roundup this week.
The last night also turned out to be the annual Venetian Night in Chicago on the water complete with fireworks.
While we were outside, I told Josh that I wanted to run back in and take a picture of the sign for the last time. But workmen were taking it down. Unassembling BlogHer. I thanked them for their hard work--the undoing must be just as tremendous as the doing. Josh whispered to me that if I hugged them, I would truly become a caricature of myself. So I refrained.
And then we went upstairs to pack. To sort the swag into bags to give most of it away. To collapse into bed.