I didn’t think I was going to be able to go to BlogHer this year. If memory serves me, I even posted in February saying, hey, just as an FYI, I’m not going. I did it to save myself the heartache of trying to go and not being able to come up with the money later on. I’m good at that. Setting myself up for failure. So, I thought I’d just say no and be done with it.

That very day, I received oh say, 12 DM’s from a very dear friend, Megan (Undomestic Diva) basically telling me that in no way was she accepting my no as an answer and it was obvious to her that I wanted to go, so I just was going to make it happen. The end. She’s demanding, that girl. But I love that about her. She was also very right.

The next day I was given an extraordinary gift, by one of my best friends, Jenna. She’d bought a BlogHer ticket and wasn’t going to be able to go and had tried unsuccessfully to sell it to someone. She gifted it to me. I tried to argue, to say I’d pay her over time. Have you ever tried to argue with a stubborn best friend? I don’t recommend it. She won, I gave up. I have thanked her so many times, I’m afraid this time, she may really throw a shoe at me, all the way from Oregon. However….thank you friend. You are the reason I am going. Without you, I wouldn’t have made the rest of it happen. Love you.

When my mom asked me what I wanted for my 30th birthday in April, I said, um…how about a plane ticket to NYC in August. She said, okay, I can do that on one condition. Her condition was getting to keep my kids for two weeks. Ha. A DOUBLE birthday present. I love my mommy. She is showing up today, to take them to the land of, Grandma is cooler than your mommy. It’s a very important and amazing place.

I found some amazing roommates. Stacey and Kari are two of my very favorite people in the world. The rest is kind of history. I’m going. I’ll be there. Megan was right, I wanted to go. I’m so thrilled that it all worked out. I can’t even tell you all how much of a break from my life I need right now.

So now, some weird things to know about me before hand:

-First of all, hi, I’m Issa. *waves* I know you all know that, but what people always ask is, how do I pronounce Issa? Well see my name is actually Melissa. Which I will totally answer too. Issa is a nick name for Melissa. The best way I can explain it, is this: Issa is Melissa without the Mel or Lissa without the L. (Try and call me Mel and you die. Am not kidding. I don’t find it funny and I DESPISE it. Try it more than once and I will most likely not speak to you any more.) There is no E sound in Issa. Got it? Please, don’t worry about screwing it up. Because honestly, I am probably going to look at you and go, and your Twitter/Blog Name is what again? Just ask, I promise I don’t bite and I’ll say Issa for you.

-I won’t be wearing much black, so I’ll be easy to spot in a crowd, in my colorful ass shirts. It’s not that I don’t like black, it’s that it makes me look too washed out. I am Polish Pasty. It’s a genetic condition.

-I don’t drink. Or if for some reason I do, it’s one drink. That is all. I don’t mind being around drunkards. It’s just not my thing.

-I once accidentally drank a wine cooler. I was ten years old. I had no concept of what it was, nor that it wasn’t just a kids drink, because it sure as hell tasted like one. It made me super sick. I can’t really drink sweet fruity drinks because of it.

-I will be the one wearing flip-flops the entire time. I did buy one new pair though. I luff them.

-I am a neurotic gum chewer. I have shitty teeth and I’m not really  supposed to chew it, so I chew a piece, spit it out after five minute and then get a new piece another 30 minutes later.

-I will confuse you by using my kids real names. Because in person there is no way I will say their fake names. I can type it without thinking, but I just can’t keep it up in conversation.

-I will try really hard to be outgoing. Please to be knowing, it’s not the way I am naturally….so it may seem forced at times.

-I am not now, nor have I ever been cool. I have one new shirt. Because that is all I can afford to purchase at this time. I am likely to wear the same clothes as last year. Same flip-flops too. I have an anxiety disorder. I’ve been through a lot this year and I’m prone to crying. Shrug.

-Unless your Twitter avatar is posted on your forehead, I may not remember your name. Even if we met last year. Please remind me your name. I do want to meet you. I’m just bad with names.

-Last year there were people I wanted to meet and didn’t. A few I never saw (Maggie Dammit) a few I did and chickened the fuck out (Mom 101 & Motherhood Uncensored). I regretted that. The seeing and chickening out. I mean what if that had been my only chance ever? It isn’t, it won’t be, I’ve promised both Liz and Kristen that I WILL MEET THEM THIS YEAR. But still. It could have been, you know? If you want to meet me and you see me, please come say hi. I don’t bite. Promise. No matter how I appear, I am just as socially awkward as the next person.

-I am a self proclaimed baby whisperer. If you’d like to test that theory out, I’d love it. I have serious baby wants in this moment.

-I am blind as a bat. I will run into walls; trip over absolutely nothing and look at my nose when I get too tired.

-I am addicted to Starbucks. I will likely be easy to find each morning, as there is a SB in our hotel lobby.

-I am really going to NYC to eat. Seriously. My list of things to eat is getting out of hand.

-My three best friends are not going to be there. Please ignore me being permanently attached to my cell phone. I text and email them often. I am a multi-tasker. I will try to keep it to a minimum. However, they are my life line. I make no promises.

-I am going to be helping out in the Serenity Suite a few times.  I will post when, next week, so if you’d like to come visit me then you can.

That’s all I know.

Part one, because I’m sure there is more.

I know, I know…it’s only June. Why in the world am I talking about BlogHer already?  Those who have been are wondering why I’m doing this two months early.  Come on Issa, you know it’s only JUNE right? The conference isn’t until August. Those who aren’t going are shaking their heads, rolling their eyes and thinking, already? Seriously?

I know. Mea culpa. Have you looked around though? People are already freaking out. This is for the newbies. Because this time last year? I was them. I started freaking out two months prior. No joke. I started having BlogHer nightmares about this time. I’m me though, I’m an anxious person. However? I know I’m not alone. I figured I’d bring up a few things, to help you out. I’m sure I’ll come up with more later. When I do, I promise to post them.

Business cards: If you can, get them. I bought 150. I think. I came home with 40. Or something. I’ll buy new ones this year. It’s hard to remember everyone. It’s nice to have those cards when you come home. I put my name, blog name, blog address and Twitter ID on it I believe. I used Zazzle last year and paid $25.00 with shipping. But there are tons of places to get them.

It’s not you, really. It’s not: I have, well I’m going to call it people ADD. I’ll be in the middle of a conversation with someone, see someone I just have to say something to, tell you I’m coming back and then I’ll get lost. It happened a few times last year. I’m sorry if I did it to you. There is just soooooo many people and sooooo little time. Please try not to take it personal.

People are mostly nice: They will talk to you. Some people aren’t so nice. Guess what? BlogHer is real life. 1,200 or so people who all happen to blog, in one hotel at the same time. There will be people you like and some you don’t like, all there. At once. It’s okay. It’s a big hotel.

I went up to people I’d always wanted to meet and said hello. I talked to people I’d never heard of. I talked to random people in the elevator and the lobby. I walked up to people I thought I knew and then realized I had no idea who they were. All of those people were nice to me. This year, I vow to be braver. To make sure I meet the few people who I was too scared to last year.

I? Am a very nice person. I’m polite. I’m kind. I smell purty. I don’t bite. Swear. If you see me and want to meet me, feel free to come say hello.

Bloggers who you’ve always wanted to meet are likely to be willing to talk to you. Do me a favor though? Remember that they are there to visit with their friends too. No matter how big name a blogger is, nor how unknown, most of us are there to see our friends. Meet new people? Yes, that too. But try not to take it personally. I? Want to meet anyone who wants to meet me. Promise. But that doesn’t mean I’m not there to see my friends. It’s not an affront to you, if they are busy with someone else, or chatting with their friends. It’s not a personal attack on you, it’s just life.

Use the same theory you would at home, if someone is in mid-conversation wait for a slow moment to interrupt. People are nicer if you remember the manners that we teach our children.

Every year there will be posts after the fact of people who felt it was a personal attack that someone didn’t have time to talk to them. It’s generally not. This conference happens once a year. I am seeing my friends who I haven’t seen in a year. People I talk to online every day. It’s different to have this few days. To hug in person. To talk, joke, laugh and if you are like me, cry in person. 95% of the people there are there for the same reason.

Wear what you want: Wear whatever makes you comfortable. If you want a new dress for the parties, buy and wear a new dress. There will be people wearing dresses. There will be people not dressing up at all.

I promise you, I don’t care what you are wearing. Heck, I’ll barely care what I’m wearing. I saw people seriously dressed up. I saw people dressed more casually. Some dressed up for parties. I’m a jeans, t-shirt and flip-flop girl myself. I doubt I’ll change for parties. If I do, it will just be a fresh t-shirt. But that’s me. Be you.

There’s a little bit of everything. My friend brought six pairs of shoes. He’s strange though. I believe I brought two pairs of flip-flops. Whatever floats your boat. Truly. Just know, be comfortable in what you are wearing and you will be fine.

Leave the hotel: Trust me. I didn’t do it last year except for daily visits to the local Starbucks and two dinners out. LEAVE THE HOTEL. You will regret it if you don’t. I’d never been to Chicago. Want to know what I saw in Chicago? NOTHING. I won’t make that mistake again. I am not even saying leave tons. But make a point of picking one thing and doing it. I have a million things I’d like to see and do in NYC. I’ve picked two for this trip. See Central Park….not all of it mind you. But a part of it. I just want to see it. I also pan on going to Serendipity. That’s it. Two things. So that I don’t regret not seeing something.

Food: Food and water can be scarce around the hotel, although I promise you that caffeine will be everywhere. One can not live on booze and Starbucks. Enough said. Eat. Go find food. Drink water. This one speaks for itself.

Drama: There will be some. There is always some. Try to avoid it. Sometimes you can’t. Sometimes you have too big of a mouth and you step into it without meaning too. (see: me) It’s okay. It’s all okay. It’s only four days of your life.

Panels/workshops: Whatever you want to call them. There are tons of choices of pick from. I went to way too many last year. (Please see above on not leaving hotel.) I went to tons, however I only truly enjoyed two of them. The MamaPop one and the Men of BlogHer one, which was given by some of my favorite male bloggers. The rest? Meh. I can’t even remember what they were about, if that tells you anything.

See the Keynote: Plan on being around for this. I’ve heard it’s amazing. I believe it. I just don’t remember it. Because last year I was in it. I went second. I followed Bossy. I was so anxious and nervous that I barely remember that entire day. I wanted to hide in a corner and evaporate. However the corners backstage were already being used…plus hai, second. If you aren’t in it, I hear it’s the best part of the conference. (I did watch the video and I can attest to this being true.) If you are in it, well um…email me if you want. You can do it. Swears.

Swag: It’s not worth fighting over. I swear to you. It’s not. I went home with nothing, except a squishy ball from the Men of BlogHer panel. I gave it all away. If you think elbowing babies is worth a Swiffer wipe or a USB flash drive, well come see me, I’ll give you mine.

Have fun: Make it fun. Enjoy it. You are on vacation for peet’s sake. Ignore the drama if you can. Party. Meet new people. Talk to strangers. If you see someone sitting in a corner, go sit with them. Chances are? They are just as freaked out as you. Truly, BlogHer is what you make of it.

That’s all I’ve got for now. If you have anything you want to know, I’ll gladly answer it for you.

I’ve seen this a lot of places….so I’m going to steal it. (also, i had this sitting and it helps with the non-typing, one handed suck, thing. ps. you still have time to enter my contest below.) Things you may love that I just don’t understand. At all.

Twilight or anything with vampires.

Black licorice. Seriously, you want to eat something that tastes like Nyquil?

Farmville or any of the weird groups people join on Facebook. Things like: When your BS is so legit even you believe; hipsters who hate other hipsters for being hipsters; or my all time favorite: I type things into Google to see if I spelled them correctly. Yes these are real fan groups. I dare you to find me some better ones. Also please don’t tell me I can hide them, because I can’t.

4 square on Twitter. I’m *this close* to unfollowing everyone who uses it.

Winter.

Mushrooms.

People who get up an hour early just to do their hair and make-up. I sleep until the last possible second. I could care less what my hair looks like. I don’t care if you do it, your life, your choice, I just don’t get it.

Most TV shows that people talk about on Twitter. Examples that come to mind are LOST, Real Housewives of anywhere, 16 and pregnant, The Office, Glee and Dancing with the stars.

Fruity bagels and fruity cream cheese. A bagel is not a bagel unless you can put lox on it.

Knitting.

Cheesecake. (Sorry Liz, but I had to say it.)

Yesterday I received some less than lovely comments and a few emails, all of which I deleted. (Promise all of you whose comments are showing in yesterdays post, it wasn’t you. In fact, none of it came from people I know.) It’s hard not to take it personally, even if it comes from strangers.

Here’s where it got a little mean though. There is this idea that therapy is a magic fix. I was told that I’m depressed, bitter, angry and need therapy. Therapy would make me better. Therapy would magically cure all of my ills. If I was in therapy, I’d find happiness and not have any more problems. Then, I’d stop writing depressing posts and everyone would like me. Yes, that last part was actually said to me.

I know this is my blog. I know I can do, or not do whatever I want and say whatever I want. I just want this out there, so everyone knows. Maybe then, the people who like to tell me how depressing I am, will at least get a clue and hit the little red X at the top of the screen.

I am in therapy. I have been since September. I am paying out of pocket, 100% for a very good therapist. I could have paid for a new Macbook, paid for BlogHer 2010 and taken my kids to DisneyLand this summer on what I’ve paid for therapy so far. I won’t be doing any of those things, because my mental health is more important.

I am medicated. I know there can be a stigma behind it. I don’t really care. In this moment, I need it. We tried lowering it for a few months and I’ve had to up it again in the last few weeks. Will I need it forever? Maybe. Do I know I need it to function right now? To keep my depression managable? Yes. I do.

Every day, I get out of bed and do what I need to do to take care of me and my kids. And the dog, the house and the car.

My dad and step-mom are morons who have no idea what they are missing out on. My dad choose his wife and her evil spawn over me and my brothers, years and years ago. I can’t change that. Nothing I do, or say will change that. No matter what I said yesterday, I know this to be true. I stopped mattering to him, when he moved in with her. My brother fared only a bit better. I am used to and pretty much ignore his lack of interest in me. However, when it comes to my brother, I get angry.

In September, I started dealing with abuse issues from my childhood. I’d never, ever dealt with any of it before. I’d stuffed it all. Un-stuffing it, almost broke me. It still owns me. Maybe it won’t one day, but it does in this moment.

In January, my husband left me. My husband of almost 11 years. The only man I’ve ever been with. After 16 years together, he no longer loves me.This? Is not something I can get over in seven weeks. It’s gonna take awhile.

Friends who I’ve known my entire life are not really my friends anymore. A lot of reasons have contributed to this. Mostly though, we’ve all changed. None of us are the people we once were. Especially me. I’ve made amazing new friends, none of whom live here. Sometimes that really sucks, because I feel very alone here. However, they are all worth it.

All of this is harsh. It’s hard to deal with.  This place, my blog, is a form of therapy for me. One that’s way cheaper than the amazing woman I see every week. I write what I’m feeling. I write my inner thoughts. I am doing the best I can. It may not be enough for some people. If you find me to be too much to deal with, please, feel free to stop reading. I understand. But I’m not going to stop writing what I want too on my blog.

Drlori Asked: How does one know something tastes like shit? Have they tasted shit? What do you think is the most annoying kid’s show on television?

Issa’s assvice: Interesting. Very interesting. I don’t know why people say that honestly. I’ve said it for years. I’ve also been asked for years, by smart asses such as yourself, how I know what shit tastes like.  LOL. I think it’s more fun to say than, this tastes really bad. Shit, is the worst people can come up with as visual word. Visual people, like using visual words.

TV show? Dora. Hands down. I hate her voice. I banned it from my house, way back when Morgan was a toddler. No joke, Bailey and Harrison will NEVER see it here.

Avasmommy Asked: Why people, when confronted with something that stinks, always wants someone else to smell it too?

Issa’s assvice: They want conformation that they are correct? They are unsure? Sometimes they are being lazy and didn’t really smell it. Sometimes they are being jerks and want to make you gag too. Depends on the person, day and mood. Basically? Human beings are weird.

Sara 3 is enough – Overpopulation – i.e. the show, 18 and Counting on TLC. (She was giving me a suggestion about a post. I’d asked on Twitter.)

Issa’s assvice: Those people are insane. INSANE!!!!! I will say one thing for them though…their kids appear to be healthy and happy. Some people can’t say that about families with two kids. I give them props for that. They have managed to raise their kids, completely without government assistance, which makes them A-Okay in my book. Yes, they have choosen to be on a TV show. However, having 18 kids makes you a spectacle everywhere you go, so you may as well let the world know who you are. Plus, hai, that is them supporting their kids.

My real problem with them, is all the dang J names. I mean, they could have used most of the alphabet by now. After the forth kid, they could have switched to a new letter for four more kids and so on. I don’t care to watch the show, although I have seen it. When I do,  I spend the entire time, renaming their kids. I may have a slight name problem.

Amber asked: What should I get the co-worker whose name I drew for Christmas… $15 min.

Issa’s assvice: a gift card to Starbucks or Jamba Juice. May seem like a cop out, but most people like to pick their own scents in candles or body stuff. Plus, who needs more of that crap? This way, they will be happy and you can buy yourself a drink when you get the card. Congratulate yourself for not going into a mall, or buying a gift that will be re-gifted next year, or thrown our during a move. Trust me. No one needs more sugar cookie scented candles.

Sweet life – Underwear. (For the life of me, I don’t remember what it was about underwear that she wanted to know. Sorry Dre.)

Issa’s assvice: Um…please wear them. If you don’t, please don’t announce it. That is one of those things best left unsaid.

Pamela asked: What should I get my husband? Get laid coupons?

Issa’s assvice: You could. If you are that nice. Personally I recommend a video game. There is a lot less work involved for you. Plus? They always use those coupons in the WORST moments. Like when you are sick, crampy, dying and want to murder them.

Heather asked: I want the #s to the winning lottery ticket. Can you make that happen? you know, BEFORE they draw the #s?

Issa’s assvice:  Sure. Anything for my peeps. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 5. What? Those don’t sound like winning numbers to you? Try it, then yell at me.

GreenInOC asked: I need a gender neutral white elephant gift. Budget is $75.00.

Issa’s assvice: I have no idea. I have a white Eeyore from a few years ago. I hate to outsource my brilliance here, but I’m just not quite this good today. Try asking the lovely ladies at Cool Mom Picks. Truly, I’ve known Kristen and Liz over there for years. If it exists, they may have had it on their site. Heck, it was probably even organic or handmade.

Kari asked: What is the most important lesson you have learned in your life?

Issa’s assvice: DUDE KARI! Could you not have asked me a harder question? Like how to create world peas? I will give you the smart ass answer and I will beg your forgiveness, because it’d take me weeks to figure out the real one right now. Smart ass answer is: That my TWITTER NAME will not be said in an airport and I should listen for my name, while waiting for a flight. Ahem.

Bridget asked: Why is it so damn hard to find Christmas decorations that I like? A better question might be: Why am I so damn picky?

Issa’s assvice: I think, my lovely friend that you answered your own question. You are too picky. I can tell you what I do though. I find one a year for each of the kids. Generally at Hallmark, or the Lennox ones from Macy’s. Expensive but very awesome. Try for a couple, instead of wanting a ton. It adds up to a nice collection over time. On the why are you so picky? Meh, you are a woman. It’s in our DNA.

Thanks for playing along everyone. Issa’s assvice is officially closed.