Well, I have a foot out the door and I am ready to leave for the Midwest and the ALA Annual in Chicago from Friday to Monday. I am bringing my laptop (duh... I'm already writing something new, anyway), and I'll be blogging maybe more than once per day.Sorry, just can't get into the whole Twitter thing.
Now... don't get all sensitive, but to me, doing Twitter is like walking around with one of those "HELLO! My name is fucking loser!" paste-on name badges. And now, I read that there are apps and methods for harvesting followers. Ugh.
Back to ALA...
Oh. And I'll be posting pictures, too. And let me just say right now that I completely vouch for their authenticity ahead of time... if that's any indication of what I plan to shoot.
Hint: If I tell you, "I promise not to post this on my blog or Facebook!" I am possibly being sincere.
I'm going to be at a "Blogger's Party" that will be set up so that guests can blog on the spot. But that isn't even close to the coolest thing about that particular event.
In fact, I am going to host my own "Tweeter's Party" in my suite. It will last from 10:00 PM until 10:02:20 PM on Friday night, July 10. Drinks and everything are completely on me, but you only have 140 seconds to cram it into your mouths.
Tweet freaking tweet.
Just like cute little baby birds.
Damn my ADD...
The coolest thing is that this particular "Blogger's Party" (or, I should say Blago's Party) is going to be held in the Governor's Suite of one of the nicer Chicago Hotels. So I will be getting there early -- before anyone else -- just so I can look under the sofa cushions and between the mattresses for any cast-off relics of the former occupant of that political office in Illinois.
And I looked at the guest list, too... mighty impressive. And let's just say the XY to XX ratio means Drew's dance card will be full. And I've actually met and talked to a couple of the guests at other events.
My prediction: They will have to squint and lean in to the name badge I will pharmaceutically sedate myself into wearing, just to see who I am because they will not have the faintest recollection of ever having met me.
And then, maybe, they'll cock their heads, bird-like, and get a faraway look in their eyes and say, "Oh! I remember! You follow me on Twitter, don't you?"
Yeah.
That's me.
