Heather greeted my sorry ass at the train station. She saved me from a blind man in a wheelchair that befriended me and told me he was going to surprise his nephew in Albuquerque that didn't know he was coming and had never even met before and made me rummage through his grocery bag luggage to pull out a map so he could show me his stalking route- that wasn't weird- at all!
She then helped me drag my broken wheeled suitcase to the bus stop through construction and had the patience of a saint during my cursing of all things living.
I will forever get misty- eyed when I hear the hum of a breast pump and not be able to look over and see Brittany draining her engorged bazookas with her computer on her lap- bitch can multi-task like no one's business. Sniff.
The room was trashed and not once did I try to clean it up. I'm pretty sure even the Hispanic cleaning staff never set foot in the room for fear of stepping on a dirty needle or catching airborne Hepatitis. The coffee and booze that I set on the table throughout the weekend stayed there the whole time. They were an intelligently safe cleaning team.
The best, messiest, and least modest roommates (Anissa) were understanding as fuck with the 7AM wake up calls from my husband that lead to my number of breakdowns. They totally saved the mocking for behind my back and those- are good friends!
Anissa, Me and Brittany (Heather left early- leaving me with a bed all to myself- yay, but of course, I missed her!)
The first people I met as I was walking into the lobby were these ladies and HOLY SHIT (of the cool as fuck Canadian Brigade) what kind of way to start off my weekend, right? I'm certain they were clueless who I was and have no recollection of meeting me, but, in my mind, we're totally acquaintances.
I met a lot of people. I remember every single one of them because I'm a dork like that-I have a dissociative mind of a steel trap. I won't list them all because the glamour of restraining orders are wading in my mind and they're a pain in the ass. I seriously enjoyed each and every person I met. I will, however, share the ones that I have pictures of... because blackmail is fun.
There should be a law of equity against someone being so god damn beautiful, leggy, and sincerely a nice person- there has to be a balance in the world- and she is proof that life ain't fair. Lisa's energy and charisma could be bottled up and it would outsell heroine easily! (Yeah, I don't look the least bit uncomfortable being in the same picture as her, do I? Self conscious much? At least she crouched down to my level- she's like 3 feet taller than me- she's a giver that way- just another aspect of her perfection- bitch! I mean that in the most loving way, dear!)
Friday night, we attended The People's Party. It was wrought with anxiety and perspiration in there. I'm pretty sure the room contained 200 people over the Fire Marshall's guidelines.
When that party started clearing out- the people that knew the schedule and had their shit together went to the Room 704 party-that I totally forgot about. Besides missing out on the candy bar that makes the best sex you've ever had seem rather mediocre in that swag bag (thanks to my roommates for sharing!)- it was all good.
Because with the room winding down, Jenny, The Bloggess, came out of the bathroom! And we totally groped.
Then we (and by we, I totally mean Lisa) asked Nina from Imagination Movers if she would be willing to sign Jenny's boobs and she was all, "well..." and then her publicist jumped in and was all, " um... Hellz to the no," but politely and professional and blushing. You'd have thought she asked to do a blow job to one of her puppets! When Lisa discovered she was on a children's show with puppets- she was mortified- bless her Christian do-gooder heart. But the look on the publicist's face will live with me in hilarious infamy for the rest of my days!
As if that weren't entertaining enough... Jenny says, "that's Nancy"... then I say, "oh my fucking Christ"... (Nancy W. Kappes, paralegal) we compared and contrast medication bottles and hers put mine to shame with all the fun colors and shapes. She shared her vodka disguised as a water bottle with us since the bar had stopped serving.You can see the combination of fear and excitement in my eyes- the fear was from that gang sign she was doing with her hand!
Credit for most of these pictures goes to Lisa- yet another thing she's good at.