Ashleigh in New York City

It's August in the Big Apple.  The only people on the streets have to be here - tourists and workers.  Everyone with a brain and some free cash has headed for the beach.  The humidity is just about visible, hovering over the sidewalks, a fine mist through which I walk.... and sweat.... and drip.  This is the exact opposite of Tucson's dry heat.  The temperatures are in the 80's, roll down the windows and hike in the middle of the day weather at home. Here, in Manhattan, I changed my clothes three times. There's only so much perspiration I can handle before I need a shower and fresh underwear.
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The Hilton is hosting us, and doing a fine job of managing 5000 bloggers as well as an indeterminate number of Italian shoe representatives.  The bloggers are all wearing comfortable shoes; the Italian shoe representatives are not.
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Travelling east means that waking up at 8 feels like waking up at 5.  Combined with my usual inability to sleep on my first night away from home, I've been dragging a bit today.  There's less walking than there was last year in San Diego, since the hotel houses the conference venue and we don't have to walk next door to a convention center.  I've got my hiking pole and my Converse and, except for the extraordinary amount of perspiration I am emitting from my head to my toes and covering every body part in between, it's a totally manageable experience.

I just wish I had brought a dozen more outfits.  Do you think I might be able to shop here?  Perhaps.....
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The Hilton is across the street from Radio City Music Hall.  I see it and I am back to my childhood, waiting in line around the corner on 53rd Street with my parents and siblings.  We saw Lawrence of Arabia there, and Mary Poppins there, and The Sunshine Boys there, back in the day when you saw a cartoon, the movie, and a floor show with the Rockettes for the price of admission.

Cirque de Soleil has a show going on until mid-September.  If there were a movie playing, I don't think you could keep me away.
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Today's session was on turning my bloggy writings into a published book. Crafty Chica`and Stefanie Wilder-Taylor led us through questions and answers and exercises while they kindly, calmly, thoughtfully and depressingly talked about the difficulties, the requirements, the antics involved in attracting an agent.... a publisher... an audience.

Self-publishing is an option, and one that has been gaining acceptance.  Still, as Stefanie said, there's more cachet to having a publishing house behind your work. Either way, the author is responsible for most of the publicity, most of the promotion, most of the work.

Up until this morning, I thought that the hard part was the actual writing.  How wrong I was.  How very, very wrong.
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I took myself out for dinner at Pazza Notte, an Italian restaurant recommended by the concierge.  The young women at the next table were louder than they needed to be, but the food was fabulous and the wine was delicious and after I complimented the Executive Chef on the tomato and basil soup he invited me to come back over the weekend when he'd make me some very special french fries.

French fries, you say?  Fries with Italian food?  I was as surprised as you are, denizens.  There were truffle fries and cajun fries and sweet potato fries and good old American fries and two or three other varieties I can't remember now.  The ones that accompanied my blackened chicken breast were beyond delicious.  I may try to find some company and go back on Saturday night.
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There are sponsors... and there are booths... and there are goodies and giveaways galore.  This year's BlogHer swag bag is over sized and flat on the bottom and filled to the brim with Arnica and toothpaste and ChapStick and Martha Stewart notebooks and more bags... lots and lots of bags.

Last year, Little Cuter and I had to mail our swag home; it didn't fit in our suitcases or in the overhead bins.  That's not going to be a problem this year.  Except for the 22oz bottle of Lysol, everything fits nicely into my new tote bag.  I've even got stuffed toys and silver charm bracelets for Amster's kids - it's important for grown ups to bring treats to those left behind.
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Yes, Megan, President Obama spoke to the audience at 4:30 this afternoon.  He was in Washington.  He looked tired.  He gave us snippets of his campaign stump speech, which you've heard yourselves if you've been following the election coverage at all.

But, he started out by telling us that Michelle and the girls sent their love to all of the women in the audience.  He talked about health care for women and took ownership of Obamacare, a name he professed to enjoy.  He talked about opportunities and education and equal pay and, for the most part, the audience was resoundingly appreciative.

I spent my time listening to his words but looking at Lisa Stone and Elisa Camahort Page, two of BlogHer's founders, as their faces beamed with pride.  They created an organization, a network, an outlet, a community where there had been none and today, thanks to Elisa's perseverance, 5000 of their colleagues and readers and wannabes and doers and movers and shakers were addressed by the leader of the free world.

Where, oh where, do they go from here?