On Saturday I fulfilled my destiny to travel to NYC and stay in a hotel with strangers who might murder me amazing women I’ve met on the interwebs (this one, this one and this one, to be precise) when I purchased my tickets to Blogher 2010. In August I will fly to the greatest city to ever smell like piss and hot nuts, and learn all about how to be a grown up blogger. I will be hobnobbing and bumping laptops with some of the greatest bloggers ever, so you can understand the pressure to make a good, lasting impression is sort of up there with the pressure to not fart the first time you sleep with someone.
I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to come up with a cool idea for business cards – something that will leave everyone knowing exactly what “Baby Rabies” really means, at least in the context of me. I figured I’d start with a little field research on Twitter, and asked everyone what they thought of when they heard the term “baby rabies”. As you might imagine, I got a lot of “well, honestly? a baby foaming at the mouth… a baby with red eyes… an evil, rabid baby.”
An idea struck me, and in my 1-glass-of-wine-down state of mind I quickly Facebook messaged my sister in law Gabbi. She just married my brother, and they are both attending the Art Institute in Seattle, he for Photography and she for Graphic (or maybe it’s Digital?) Design. They are both crazy talented. For real.
Title: Can you make a rabid baby for me?
Like, not a real one. Ha! That title is very misleading. I mean, a cartoon one. Just a chubby, cute cartoon baby with rabies. Maybe foaming at the mouth a bit, maybe red-ish eyes. Nothing too complicated, I don’t think. I’d like to use it on my blog business cards for an upcoming conference.
Of course, I can pay you for it. Just tell me how long you think it will take you and how much you charge. And please, please, PLEASE don’t feel pressured to say yes. I know you’ve got a ton of work with school, so if you can’t fit it in right now, that’s okay.
Hope you two are doing well, staying dry and not starving!
So then, for some weird reason, I went back and looked at my sent messages. I was thinking maybe I sent it to her before I finished writing it after I glanced over at my empty wine glass and realized how quickly I’d sucked it down.
As soon as I opened the page I was all :: confused, squinty eyes:: “Who is THAT?!” ::heart stops:: *GASP* ::desperately searching for some sort of UNSEND button:: “Oh SHIT.” ::still looking for unsend button, WHEN WILL SOMEONE INVENT THE UNSEND BUTTON??:: ::slow laughter…shrug…harder laughter..snort…face is red…commence new message::
Uhhmmm… clearly I sent this message to the wrong person!!! OMG. LOL. Sorry! Ignore, please.
That person? Uhh… yeah… not quite sure who he is. I mean, I’m fairly sure he went to high school with me. I recall friending him in a mass friending around our 10 year reunion, which I was in charge of planning. Nice guy, it seems, although I’m not sure that we’ve ever even had a formal interaction on Facebook. And now he’s probably totally confused/alarmed by my request. The title alone might make him unfriend me, which truthfully, would save us both a lot of embarrassment.
What’s even funnier is that another guy I went to high school with, who was actually quite a close friend of mine, saw the name of this blog linked on my Facebook page last year and was all worried, thinking I’m blogging about my poor child’s plight, battling rabies, and what a sad, courageous thing to write about… you know, until he clicked on it and was all, “Agh! OMG, my EYES! She’s talking about her shredded labia and chunks of flesh missing from her nipples and cloth diapers!”
You see the need, then, for me to really come up with a great business card concept so that others at Blogher do not mistake me for the girl with the rabid baby. You may also see the need for me to stop drinking and writing things… of course, that would make this blog a lot less fun.
OH! OH LOOK WHAT I FOUND?! Facebook DOES have an “unsend” button! It’s called DELETE! Fancy that. I need to sober up. <Edit: No, no that is wrong. It does not “unsend” it. It merely deletes it from your sent messages list. Gah. I realized this when the guy messaged me back saying he didn’t think he could help me out.
Kendall will probably be 22 months old by the time I get around to spell checking this bitch and hitting publish.