The five (misguided) ways I intend to redeem myself at BlogHer

Never one to wallow in my self-made problems, I knew I needed to turn things around.  I’ve been thinking long and hard about the five ways I ruined BlogHer before I even got there, and I’ve come up with some great ways to redeem myself.  Here are my top five strategies building from “as-good-as-George-Bush’s-foreign-policies” to “oh-yeah-that’s-the-one”.

1.  Introduce myself as Kelcey of the Mama Bird Diaries.  Yes, I have four gorgeous children, an awesome husband named Rick and a blog that makes you pee your pants with laughter.  Dead pan.

2. Carry a banner that says “I refuse to go to SparkleCorn.”  Because if one more person tells me I CAN.NOT.MISS.THIS I’m going to throw my copy of 50 Shades of Grey at them.  Wait, I don’t own that book.  Ok, so this tactic is a little risky (not to mention a lot dumb).  I mean, I am beyond excited to go to SparkleCorn and dance the night away.  I’m just really trying to win back those negative points for originality.  You know, the ones I lost when I chose “blah, blah, blah Motherhood” as my blog name.

3.  Show up to the “Come As You Are” bash in all my full naked glory yelling “THIS is how I am baby!”

4. New sash.  One word:  SWAGMASTER.  People will flock me.  I said FLOCK.  (stop thinking about that vibrator giveaway).

5.  Get drunk.  Every post warns the newbies NOT to get drunk, but I think it’s a ruse.  Instead I am going to get the drunkest of all the bloggers, part the dance floor and run fearlessly into my nobody-puts-baby-in-the-corner Dirty Dancing lift moment…only to belly flop on the parquet and have my picture taken thousands of times.  I’ll be infamous.  And probably get Prosecco to sponsor me.  Win-effing-win.

 

7 thoughts on “The five (misguided) ways I intend to redeem myself at BlogHer

  1. Ah, the old Prosecco sponsorship trick! Good thinkin’! I’ve been waiting for the YouTube video of your dancing debut – so far nothing. Once you get kicked out of BlogHer, come join me in Chicago for my daughter’s birthday sleepover. Unless you’re in jail of course. Then call Outlaw Mama, she’s good with that sort of trouble!

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