For a city known for earthquakes, the hotel where I stayed in San Francisco certainly took some big chances with light fixtures. I'm sure that a lovely hotel like that has some magical, written-in-blood, long-standing pact with a travelling gypsy clan. A clan who 100 years ago promised the hotel safety in exchange for monthly payments of a hundred dollars, an never-ending supply of string, and a suckling pig. But still, holy gamble with a land-locked Poseidon Adventure starring a good chunk of the blogosphere.
Anyhow, nary a moment in that hotel passed, without me getting the feeling that I was standing in the unmistakable trajectory path of some large, breath-taking, completely-amazing globe/chandelier.
This little number hung in the middle of my room.
Obviously I was booked in the parlour / fainting salon, complete with Billy Zane look-a-like to do my bidding along side a very useful John Malkovich look-a-like concierge. I unfortunately was not allowed to photograph my man slaves - though if I had, I would share photos with you. Trust me, Raoul was easy on the eyes and intense, while St. James had control over everything.
Anyhow, each night while mentally preparing to go to sleep, I would calculate all the possible outcomes in case of separation of light from ceiling due to tremors. It was important for me to figure out which way that crystal clad puppy would smash once it had a good swing care of San Andreas' pushes.
You know when I'm given the time to sleep as much as I want, the actual process of going to sleep gets weird. That is why I sometimes require this crazy mental work-up in order to convince myself this isn't a cruel, cruel trick.
Anyhow, using the little (translation: nil) knowledge I have of physics - which was all learned from cartoons and episodes of Saved by the Bell - I figured that the chandelier of death would either smack the wall next to me or completely decimate the huge flat screen on the dresser that never, ever got turned on the entire weekend away.
Did you know that this weekend was only the second time in my life that I haven't turned on a television in a hotel/motel/waiting/ room
In fact, I think that last little factoid sums up a BlogHer conference fairly well: Upside down world. No more hiding behind the online veil. TV addict quits addiction cold turkey because the world has become "You read 'em, now you see 'em, and they talk - if you are lucky - to you".
By the way, the amount of lucky is usually in direct proportion of how ballsy one feels, because odds of rejection are always low but odds of awkward conversation is medium to high.
Back to lighting fixtures, this Titanic - because it is far to dignified to be called a behemoth - vessel of destruction, approximately the size of an ambulance, was ready to take out at least 50 or more bloggers and sponsors in the main keynote speech room.It was both stunning and huge.
Just like the light fixtures.
20 comments:
I would have definitely gone to Blogher if I had known there were going to be man slaves.
Maybe you should have drank more and passed out instead of calculating the chandelier of death's path. I would have spooned you until you felt comfortable. ;)
Christ. Thinking about that light would have CONSUMED me all night.
but glad to hear you had fun, nonetheless :)
Those old school rooms were a little bit scary with their gothic chandeliers. We were in the new tower and I still lay awake thinking of earthquakes. Or maybe it was free drink-related gas...either way, so lovely to meet you in the flesh.
Isn't a shaking chandelier the International Sign of the Earthquake? At least, that's what I've learnt from the movies.
I think I spent the whole closing keynote mesmerized by that big light. It was so SHINY. (I'm part squirrel)
I probably wouldn't have even noticed the light fixtures. My powers of observation are quite rusty.
Hope you're catching up on sleep.
That was perfect. You really were obsessed with those fixtures. Personally I thought you were the bright light in the bunch that went mostly unshaken, save for some recharging that was needed Sat morning.
First, I fell in love with this post from the moment I read the title and the poetic and perfectly used use of 'electric boogaloo,' which I wanted to use last night for some reason, yet stunted myself with a momentarily lapse in how to spell 'boogaloo'. So thank you for using it, and giving me the freedom to use it now that I know how to spell it.
Second, the love for this post was cemented when you gave a perfect nod to both Billy Zane AND John Malkovich (which, again, I was't exactly sure how to spell until you! glorious you!).
These BlogHer recaps all over the place are making me save my change and ponder the idea of using the word 'blog' among my friends and family so my absence from them next year is explainable.
we actually unplugged the tv in our room and they came up from downstairs to make sure we were okay. hahaha.
Hmmm, I could have used more useful concierges at the Westin when trying to acquire that darn microwave.
Man-slaves? There were man-slaves? Why were there no man-slaves last year?
And I also noticed at BFF that I didn't even check if there was a TV in that armoire - who needs that entertainment when you've go zombie roomies and wine tours?
They like their lighting at the Westin. There were some excellent amber chandeliers in the Elizabethan room too.
The first thing Nate said in our room was, "Mommy, what IS that thing?" pointing to the chandelier.
babe you are my favorite new person ever.
a) The whole earthquake thing never occurred to me for a single instant while I was there, which makes me feel sort of careless in retrospect.
b) I don't even remember *noticing* a TV in our hotel room. I suppose there was one, but we never turned it on.
We had the tv on very, very briefly and it was just background noise.
You should also know that I need more motherbumper time...
Two things:
1. I thought the same thing about the TV while at BFF. I didn't watch any television at all that weekend, which is saying something for me. I love television.
2. Based on that snapshot of the upper area of your hotel room, it looks like you stayed at a fucking palace. Or maybe it's just me.
what happened to our make-out sesh, is all *i* want to know.
*pouts pathetically*
it was just like fucking last year, dude. we clung to that wall last year and begged for sweet, quiet death. or sleep. whichever. instead of sensibly returning to a room and having a snugglefest.
shit.
(oh, and also, totally relieved to know that there's still a chance for make-out09, because the chandelier didn't swan-dive onto you in the night like a wild cat.)
Oh.. can I have some man slaves? Pretty please?
Okay, I know I'm a total dork, but just seeing that picture makes me imagine your room, with you and HBM and Jasper in it.
I miss you!
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