Evidently I am allergic to San Francisco. I have had a strange, sneezy, water-eyed thing going on ever since we arrived. But other than, things have been fantastic--it's been more information than I could possibly process in a few short days.
My session this afternoon went really well--we had some incredibly smart and well-spoken women on our panel and in the audience, all eager to share their thoughts on the issue of privacy in parenting. I wrote more about the session over at BlogHer.
And, in an event of proportions hard for me to fully express, I met the great-great-granddaughter of Emily Post, who is at the conference to promote her book. I love my Emily Post book--I keep it in a prominent place and refer to it surprisingly frequently (it's a classic!) There is a great joy to be had in a properly-worded RSVP or a well-placed dessert fork.
But as I stood there talking to Anna Post, Emily's great-great-granddaughter, my strange allergy attack struck. I had the most powerful, horrible, over-powering urge to do a massive sneeze.
No. NO. Not now, please. Not with the offspring of Emily Post. I bet she never sneezed, or at least not the nose-honking variety I needed to do. I held off, I'm glad to say. But it was a close call. I dashed out into the hall and let 'er rip.
And now, it's off to another round of parties and meetings in what will hopefully be a mucous-free evening. Y'all have a good weekend.