I’m writing this somewhere over central New South Wales. Flying home. My head is a mix of sadness of saying goodbye to bloggie friends, excitement of seeing my fam again and a teensy wincy bit of white wine fuzz.
But you get that. If you go looking for it.
My weekend started on Thursday with my neighbour and ridiculously stunning and smart blogger Veggie Mama cabbing it to the airport together and ended with Mrs Woog and Sarah from A Beach Cottage in the Qantas Club Lounge of Melbourne Airport.
In between, I have learned the following about myself and my fellow mums on the loose:
- On arrival at the hotel, a blogger discovers that it doesn’t matter how important you think you are in your own bloggie lunchbox, someone has to get the view of the dumpster. That may as well be you.
- When you book a hotel room with visions of big beds and baths in your head, it may end up being just that: a vision.
- Melbourne in autumn really is beautiful and sitting bayside at a hip restaurant with the equally hip Pip Lincolne and Bianca Wordley slugging down a vat of pino grigio should be compulsory.
- When you leave a wine party to have an early night, you will not have an early night. You will put on your PJs, order room service and talk like you did when you were 14 and on a sleepover.
- When you purport to be a style blogger, people will make comments about your appearance. Not all comments will be good ones. The not so good ones will be done in a cowardly and anonymous way via a fake Twitter account. Not cool coward. Not cool.
- There are no age limits on getting tattoos – fake or otherwise – thanks to Magneto Bold Too for this tramp stamp and to The Bra Queen for re-arranging the girls to be worthy of said stamp.
- Whenever you combine 100 or so mum bloggers and three dad bloggers with champagne, a photo booth, a chocolate fountain and karaoke, things will get very messy. Very quickly. It’s best to have in place an emergency exit plan (please refer to the above re pjys, room service and girly chats).
- When you purport to be a style blogger, it’s compulsory to overpack and then add in even more options. It’s perfectly acceptable – mandatory even – despite overpacking, to go shopping and buy even more options.
- Shopping in Melbourne requires a marathon-like strategy based around food and coffee. One very good coffee (sprinkled with chocolate), followed by a little browsing, a little buying and a little sit down to a dumpling lunch, followed by a little bit more browsing and buying. You will know you when you’ve run your shopping race when even the Witchery “buy two, get the third item free” deal does not even give you the strength to try on one more pair of shoes.
- When you share a hotel room with Edenland, you do not even blink an eye when she says she has to go and pick up malaria tablets from a doctor at St Kilda because she is heading – not home to Sydney – but to Niger in West Africa for World Vision. In fact you will walk the walk of shopping tiredness in search of two six packs of Bonds undies so she doesn’t have to wash or wear hers inside out while on her trip.
- On a free Saturday night when you have a host of multicultural food and drink options only a short tram or cab fare away, you will find yourself sitting at the bar of your hotel drinking said bar dry of its stocks of 3 Tales sauvignon blanc. You will eat more hot chips in one setting than you have in 12 months and you will be happy because you are doing it with bloggers. Fabulous women from small fishing villages and big cities – fabulous women who you would not otherwise have met if not for this crazy online world.
- Spending the last night sleeping over in Mrs Woog’s hotel room (after it was vacated by the lovely Penny, Veggie Mama and Madam Bipolar who returned early to their families because they are GOOD mothers) with Sarah from A Beach Cottage will give you the opportunity to order yet more room service and hit the rental button on an in-room movie. The rental button will not come with a guarantee that all those watching said movie will stay awake for the duration. Nor will it come with a do-not snore button. Just saying.
- Conference swag bags can present pressing First World problems when trying to re-pack an already over-packed and shopping topped-up suitcase. It comes down to prioritising what makes it in and what gets left for the housekeeping staff: chocolate for the kids; cleaning products for Mr Styling You. Your welcome.
Anyhoo, we’re about to land. I’m feeling not so fresh. Time to practise getting my mum face on. I’ve just remembered it’s school holidays tomorrow. It’s going to be a long week. I think that’s what they call karma.
When I need a reminder at why I am now serving penance, I will look at this photo gallery. Enjoy.
What have you been up to this weekend? And if you were at the Digital Parents Conference, what was the best part for you?
Oh, and PS. You might be interested in taking a look-see at these posts I wrote over on Justb. last week:
I’m attended Digital Parent Conference 2012 thanks to my sponsors Not Your Daughter’s Jeans. You can find stockists around Australia via their Facebook page. If you’d like to WIN a pair all of your own, head over here to find out how.