I have never had a manicure. Oh, I've painted my fingernails a couple of times, ineptly, but later I look down and my fingers look like someone else's fingers and I reach for the nail polish remover as soon as I can.
But Thursday night, after picking up my badge for the BlogHer conference, Sarah and I headed to the Expo hall to see what was what. We found Amanda getting her nails "done" so we bellied up to the bar and got ours done too - stick on plastic nails. I picked a steely dark blue/purple; Sarah went with jungle red. And so it began: two days and three nights of other, like some kind of out of body experience, the disconnect enhanced by the fact that the conference was in New York, in my city.
I stayed up too late, I talked to strangers, I was captivated by both Martha Stewart and Katie Couric. I got fired up about a project that has nothing to do with my blog and everything to do with real life, in my town - and met someone who might can help. I met a foster mother from Mississippi, and I gushed at Lesbian Dad who maybe has the happiest smile ever. I hugged Neil and Marty and Cecily and Bon and Dresden and a lot of other people, and I never even laid eyes on Liz or Isabel or Joanne.
The first thing I did when I got home was peel off my plastic fingernails. And then I took a nap, and then I mailed some stick on breast lifts to my sister, because it's nice to redistribute swag. And then we went to the pool, and now I'm back to my real life.