When your 4-hour direct flight from Vancouver to Toronto turns into a 12-hour lay-over flight because two hours in you divert to Great Falls, Montana due to a medical emergency:
- You will be sequestered with the other 134 passengers and the flight crew in a small section of the Great falls airport for 4 hours after waiting on the plane for 1.5 hours.
- The Great Falls airport will kindly arrange for you to be fed chips and sandwiches that first need to be screened via the baggage x-ray machine.
- You will have “Lost” flashbacks.
- Your rowmate, Meredith—who is 10 years your junior—will keep you sane and inspire perspective, compassion, generosity and kindness. When you mention you blog, she’ll tell you her boyfriend also blogs about being a professional athlete, but she will not tell you that he’s Olympic athlete, Reid Coolsaet or that she’s quite the accomplished athlete herself. You’ll find that out later via her Twitter feed and your mad stalker skills.
- You won’t allow conference attendees to forget you’re missing from that evening’s kick-off activities by flooding the conference’s Twitter channel with your frequent flight-status updates.
- You’ll be told by the Great Falls head airport dude as you re-board the plane that you were a pleasant group of cooperative Canadians and he is glad he didn’t have to shoot anyone.
- Just before landing you will be told you have to clear customs.
- You’ll be amazed customs wasn’t warned about the hundred people coming through with the same story.
- You’ll be asked why you don’t have your passport and you’ll dig around in your purse to find your Zen before answering.
When you finally land and track down a shuttle to your hotel:
- You will be weepy, and when the driver pulls up to the hotel, hands you your bag and asks over his shoulder if you already paid as if he’s sure you have, you’ll lie and say yes because you’re tired, emotional, two parts Awful Human Being, and feel the universe owes you.
- You will confess this to your roommate upon arrival because you know the universe didn’t actually owe you anything and that YOU STOLE, YOU JERK.
- You won’t track down the shuttle and remedy the situation, but you’ll continue to feed badly about it and later confess on your blog.
- You will find your roommate already in bed, but this won’t stop you from keeping her up until past 1am because it’s only past 11pm your time.
- You will awake the next morning in time for the 7:30 newcomer’s welcome even though it’s only 4:30am your time.
- You will start to meet fun people, get to hand out your business cards for the first time, and get your giddy on.
- You’ll play it cool.
After the newcomers thingie and you meet-up with your roommate:
- You’ll be amazed Twitter and the Universe sent you a roommate you’d choose to be friends with.
- You’ll be thankful to have a partner in crime.
- You’ll know she’s a keeper when you rub the complimentary Dove body wash all over your hands thinking it’s hand cream and she doesn’t immediately switch tables to avoid future skin faux pas.
When the conference officially starts:
- You’ll hope it gets better than the Dove presentation.
- Your mind will be blown when during your first micro-session you’re challenged to just fucking write and let your voice find you.
- You’ll want to ask the presenter to marry you and you’ll be sure she’ll say yes because you’ll share a moment across the table when she lets her potty mouth lead.
- You’ll know you chose the right conference when the presenter of the second micro-session drops a few more F-bombs and gives you some tricks to make your blog better.
- You’ll have your attention desires met when at the final micro-session you’re alone at a table with two co-authors who listen with the intensity of a new lover and promote your writing to the two late-comers as if the authors are your very own PR team.
It will be time to break for lunch:
- You’ll hunt down someone you’ve been having hilarious Twitter exchanges with for months and dine with her and some of her peeps.
- You’ll feel connected through storytelling, this time face-to-face over food instead of online over your greasy keyboard. (No, YOU have a greasy keyboard.)
The speaker portion of the day begins:
- You won’t know who any of them are, but by the end you’ll want to buy their book or tell them to write one and make a mental note to begin online creeping.
- You’ll take a break from speakers to peruse booths with your homegirl, Tara, and be reminded she’s a keeper when at the Diva Cup booth you obsess over getting the pictures just right. Later you’ll tell Tara you’re going back for a third photo because you know how to make it perfect, and you’ll know she fully supports your mission because she’ll respond by telling you you’re so cute, and it won’t be patronizing at all.
- You’ll return to the speakers and catch the last ten minutes of one you’ll regret missing because she’ll give you goosebumps 28 times in three minutes.
They will send you on your way to eat and get ready for the costume karaoke party:
- You’ll be invited to get ready with two of the gals your roomie did the Road Rally with while you were finding your Zen Place at the Great Falls airport in Montana.
- You’ll happily oblige because your roomie is so great that whomever she likes must be great, too.
- This will turn out to be excellent logic.
- You’ll learn that your roomie wasn’t kidding that one of them brought their cat.
- When Cat Lady explains why she brought her cat you’ll make an excellent first impression by responding, “Right, and that makes it much less crazy that you brought your cat.”
- You’ll bond with Howard the cat.
- You’ll spend the next three hours talking to three strangers as if you were the modern-day, potty-mouthed versions of Anne of Green Gables and Diana.
- You’ll feel whole because you’ve been the loneliest lately and friendship is a salve you’ll lean into.
- You’ll be fed alcohol and this will lead to large amounts of silliness that may or may not include hiding behind fake hotel plants and taking pictures of yourself in the foliage. This may or may not lead to you putting on one of your new friend’s discarded underwear over your jeans while you talk to your husband on the phone in the bathroom. This most assuredly will include ridiculous amounts of laughter.
- Howard the cat will not be impressed by your underwear antics.
- You’ll ask your friends to monitor your drink intake, but they will not. Nor will Howard the cat.
- You’ll threaten to fire them.
- You won’t.
- You’ll be dragged to Yonge Street to find food with your roomie because she is a good roomie.
- You’ll find delicious Pad Thai.
- You’ll arrive to the party late with friends in tow and you’ll dance to every song and preform amazing tricks with your magic wand.
- You’ll get on stage and do one Karaoke song, which is something you’ve never done before.
- You’ll stay away from the mic, but you’ll perform the sign-language version of the song because this will seem like an awesome idea.
- You’ll know in the morning that this is not an awesome idea, but it will be too late.
- You may or may not walk up to random groups of women and stand on the perimeter of their circle, nose-breathing loudly until they talk to you because you’ll think it’s hilarious.
- They may or may not think it’s hilarious.
- The ones who think it’s hilarious are for keeps.
- The ones who pretend you’re not there should be given more drink tickets.
- You’ll got to bed too late again, but won’t fret because the memories you’ll make and the full feeling in your heart will be worth the sleep you’ll sacrifice.
Your alarm will go off the next morning in time for you to get ready for the Movember/Instagram excursion:
- You’ll think to yourself: fuck memories and friendship, I should have gone to bed.
- You’ll make yourself get out of bed, even though for 30 minutes you press snooze and consider skipping the excursion.
- You’ll drink a lot of water because your liver hates you.
- You’ll find your group in the lobby and you’ll walk and talk your way to the Movember office, helping you forget your liver hates you.
- You’ll make more connections that remind you that you fucking love people. People are your happy place. People and their stories.
- You’ll learn all about Movember and its roots and you’ll be inspired to make the world better.
- You’ll decide to register as a Mo Sista.
- You’ll develop an immediate crush on Mo Bro Matt, Mo Sista Anna and Mo Sista Caron.
- You’ll have lovely chats with Super Smart Jenna and Teaching Kindred Martha.
Blissdom will come to an end:
- You’ll be hungry, so you’ll agree to head to Soupstock.
- You’ll end with friendship in your heart, yummy soups in your belly, and fall sunshine warm on your face.
- You’ll meet up with your bestie from College who offered to drive you to the airport.
- You’ll eat more, talk more, love and be loved more, and know that connecting deeply is what you’re good at. It’s your Thing.
- You’ll fly home on an uneventful plane ride save for chatting with your rowmate who is the mother of two young girls and fearfully against All Things Internet.
- You’ll convince her to get her ass online to position herself as a teacher to her girls—while they’re young enough to listen—on how to be digital citizens.
- You’ll feel good about that.
- You’ll hug your family and feel home on your skin.
- You won’t remember how you climbed the stairs or brushed your teeth or changed into jams.
- You’ll sleep like a full-bellied bear and when your alarm sounds, you’ll wish you’d booked the day off work.
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