Playful, elegant, and not above the judicious use of the word “shit."

Leaving on a jet plane

Tomorrow morning Jon and I are headed to South Carolina to attend a wedding. Beaufort, to be exact. That’s pronounced Byoo-furt, not Bo-fort, as Jon kept arguing. I know because I am always right except for all those times when I’m wrong.

Our very good friend, Shan, is marrying Sydney, a Southern girl like myself. Shan and Jon often instant message each other to ask if what their Southern woman is doing would be considered “normal” for them types of people. Jon has probably saved their engagement on more than one occasion by assuring Shan that while Sydney may be Southern, at least she’s not crazy and Southern with a habit of writing about it on the Internet.

I bought a cute little strapless dress for the wedding with a bow and and some pink fringe cause there ain’t no baby gonna be there to throw up down my bra. (Leta will be attending a seminar called, “How to Sell Cosmetics and Rule the World.”) I have a dress for the ladies luncheon, another one for the rehearsal dinner, and another one for the brunch the day after. I will have worn more dresses in the next five days than I have in the collective whole of the rest of my life, but that’s okay because I hear there’s going to be champagne. LOTS OF IT.

And next week I will come back and write about it on the Internet.

We don’t know what kind of access we’ll have to the Internet while in South Carolina, but if we find it you can bet we’ll be posting pictures of The Party Without the Baby and of course The Drunken Southern Rendition of “You Light Up My Life.” We’re going to take a look around Savannah while we’re there.

In two weeks Jon and I will be headed to Vancouver to attend VIDFEST where I will be speaking on an Interactive Design panel called Reclaiming the Web for Personal Expression. Neither of us have been to Canada but by the looks of Strange Brew we are not only going to love it we are going to rock it and then wake up the next morning and not remember anything.

At the end of July I’ll be headed to Santa Clara, CA via San Francisco to speak on a panel at BlogHer Conference, an estrogen-packed weekend with all The Ladies. The panel I am speaking on is called How to Get Naked, which when it comes to delivering a baby or just walking around the house I know EVERYTHING about. Word is no one on the panel will actually be naked but you know that we’ll all be thinking about each other’s boobs.

If you see us around sneak up on us and say, “BOO!” Jon will LOVE that and since I’m easily startled I will totally poop my pants.

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