(Not that Twitter. I have not succumbed to that particular addiction just yet.)
I'm going to BFF. And I'm going to meet daysgoby, whom I've known (but never met) since our days on BabyCenter - over four years now. And I'll get to meet lots of other cool bloggers, some I know and some I don't.
And I'm going to have 87 different kinds of freak outs before I go and I will probably talk myself out of going at least once, but I'm booking my train tickets this week so that I can't talk myself out of it. Because if there's one thing I'm good at, it's a freak out.
I'm too fat.
I'm too dorky.
I'm too shy.
No one will like me.
I'm too clumsy (good lord, am I clumsy).
I'll get tipsy and I'll never shut up.
I'll get tipsy and morose in the corner.
I don't have nice clothes.
I'll spill something down my front, sure as shootin'.
I need a pedicure.
I need a hair cut.
I need to develop some social skills.
Fat. Always back to the fat thing.
But, goddammit, I'm going.
I can't wait.
Niagara Falls had just better watch out.