In case you hadn’t heard, there was an itty bitty conference in Chicago over the weekend, and Navy Pier was overrun with estrogen and vaginas. Since the Windy City is the home of IP headquarters, we thought we would try to latch on to the fun and reap the benefit of seeing great writers and friends while skipping sitting through the Feed Your Family Writing About Your Cat seminar.

We started with a pre-festivities gathering on Thursday night, hoping to lure our columnists and a handful of others into our trap with the offer of free alcohol. And it worked! (If you were not invited don’t be insulted, it’s us not you. OK, maybe a little bit you.)

For entertainment, we had Helen from Electronic Arts showing off the new Wii dance/karaoke game Boogie. Why, you ask? Because not only did it sound like fun, but I’m a cheap bastard and she offered to provide the booze. And how did I show my gratitude? By messing with the complicated A/V setup at our party space, managing to knock out the side panel of the entertainment center where it proceeded to fall on all 82 pounds of Helen leaving a nice gash in her forearm. A little word of wisdom to all you wannabe big time internet publishers out there:

DO NOT MAIM YOUR CORPORATE SPONSOR.

Fortunately that was the only injury of the night, besides the damage done to the buffet and liquor cabinet.

View the photographic evidence:

Julie’s eating for two, and Catherine is nibbling at some veggies to save room for all the alcohol.

A really crappy picture quality-wise, but I still had to post it because of all the awesomeness gathered in one small space. Besides, it was the only pic we had of Lindsay rockin’ the LBD.

Here’s Helen demonstrating Boogie. You can’t tell from the picture, but her right arm is an emergency prosthetic that we had to apply after the little “accident”. Lifelike, isn’t it?

Ree from Confessions of a Pioneer Woman ponders the strange turn of events that brought her all the way from the country to watch someone play a video game.

The excitement rose to such a level at one point that Jessica (The Imperfect Parent) and her gay houseboy Robert (My Blog Has Two Daddies) slipped into a catatonic state. Also notice the state of fullness of the dessert tray compared to the empty veggie tray. Very unexpected from a bunch of moms on the loose.

Rebecca distracts everyone with her classic open mouth pose, while Dana stuffs sandwiches into her bag.

Mayberry Mom sings some classic Jackson 5 while completely blitzed out of her mind — I swear, I’ve never seen someone consume so much vodka. Mothergoosemouse gets ready to disarm Helen with her water bottle, something she learned in the military. Settle down there, Julie.

This gratuitous shot of the skyline I took on the roof is part of my ongoing quest for all you assholes on the coasts to add the words “except Chicago” to your flyover country wisecracks.

Friday night found me back downtown for the premiere broadcast of Mominatrix Radio, where we set up a table just outside the BlogHer cocktail party entrance. I did technically attend the event as I had to cut across the mile long terrace to go take a piss, as the conveniently located men’s room had been re-appropriated as ladies only. (25% of the attendees are male? I ain’t buying it.)

As I was busy in the technical workshop while waiting for my crotchless pleather chaps to come back from the cleaners, Hilary from BlogTalkRadio was on picture duty:

Kristen getting into full Mominatrix mode. You’ll see behind her that Liz was too tired from the day’s events so she sent a hologram in her stead.

Here we see curious onlookers being successfully kept at bay by the invisible force field around our table. Notice Mayberry Mom in the middle, struggling to keep her balance. Drunk. Again.

Mominatrix keeps the banter flowing while I fight with both the internet connection and the urge to fling the laptop into Lake Michigan (which would not have been good, since that’s Kristen’s laptop).

Guest Aviva Pflock shares her conception story. You can tell by all the hand gestures that it’s REALLY DIRTY.

I also had the pleasure of meeting Rachael and Liz and Amy and Kelly and Lena and Catherine and Joy and Leah and Yvonne and probably many others I’m forgetting because I’m a dick like that, all of whom were way more kick ass than even their online personas would indicate.

Update: See, I knew I was forgetting people. Sorry, chalk it up to all the pot I smoked in the 90s.

Bookmark to: