It’s official-Blogher ‘07 will be held in Chicago! I checked and it is 218 miles from my house, so I will be driving. Oh yes, I am already planning to go. After saying hello to my husband and kissing him in full view of the Gerald R. Ford International Airport, the very next thing I did is tell him “next year, it’s in Chicago.”

His response? “Great! That will make it even easier for you to go.” I love him, that man of mine.

You know why else he’s a fantastic guy? Because while I was boozing it up gaining important knowledge at Blogher this year, my husband was not only parenting our three children, and visiting his father in the hospital, he was also painting furniture. Making multiple runs to “the Man store” aka Home Depot for paint. Sanding, painting, parenting. He rocks, that’s all I can say about that.

Her Bad Mother’s “Dared to Eat a Peach” post perfectly sums up how it felt to spend four days without any members of my family. Last summer, Chris took the boys to see their Grandpa in Indiana for two nights, and he also spent a year and a half traveling on business when the boys were little. But it has been sixteen years since I went somewhere without Chris.

No wonder I was so unsure of myself. I know, I spent two days running up to everyone and introducing myself, but if you look at the photos I’m in, I look like I’m frozen. There are no photos of me acting crazy and spontaneous, because I just didn’t feel like I could really let go, despite the liberal applications of alcohol.

Next year will be different. I’m getting back on my diet plan and have a goal of losing forty pounds by January 30. And then if I can just maintain that, great, if I can lose more, even better. I know it shouldn’t matter how much I weigh, but it does. There were women of all shapes and sizes at Blogher, and then ones I envied most were the ones who were overweight like me, yet had tons of confidence and great-looking clothes.

I looked like someone’s 40 year old mother. Which is what I am, but I’d much rather look like someone’s HOT 40 year old mother. So what I’m saying is that next year, I expect to be a full participant in the boob and ass-grabbing. Because I’m bringing my smokin’-hot 40 year old self to Chicago, and Chicago had better be ready.

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