My BFF Amanda turned 30 on February 16th, the same day I got the fabulous news I was pregnant.  Before I could say the words, Miss Manda knew.  She looked at my stomach and with a huge smile on her face, she shouted, “Yay!”

Amanda was my first visitor in the hospital when I gave birth to Dawson.  At that time in 2004 she was living in Texas and managed to drive home for a visit during the same week I was admitted to the hospital for induction.

Amanda and I have known each other since the eighth grade.  Her mom, also named Dana, became fast friends with my parents and they were part of the same social circles.

Amanda and I have never had a fight.  Not once.  We both hung out with different groups of friends when we were in high school, but we always managed to pick up our friendship wherever it left off.  After graduation, Amanda moved to Texas to go to school (her mother’s family is from Texarkana, Arkansas, and her father’s family is from Wisconsin) and I stayed in Stevens Point to attend college.

Whenever Amanda came home to visit we made time to hang out and catch up.  On my 21st birthday, I went to Longview, Texas to visit her.

Miss Manda (a nickname given to her because she’s from the south and still has her southern drawl) is the kindest person I could ever want as a friend.  She’s always got a smile on her face and she loves to have fun.  Whenever we get together it’s inevitable that I end up sounding like Scarlett O’Hara.  Her “accent” is contagious.

We celebrated Amanda’s big 3-0 by having dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant, El Mezcal, with a few other friends.  I only stayed for dinner (too tired from the day’s excitement) but told Miss Manda to have a drink or two for me.  Of course she obliged (and promptly ordered a shot of Tequila).

Happy Birthday, girl!  Here’s to being 30!  I’m right behind you, dahlink!

I’ve head a headache ever since I got home; the kind that hurts so terribly behind my eyes and at the bridge of my nose.  While I was driving home from my parents’ house, Dawson was chattering from the backseat about all the fun he had with his Poppa, and I kept thinking about swallowing two Excedrin and crawling into bed.  I think my exhaustion hit harder than I expected.  It was a long, 2 1/2 hour drive home, but the trip was worth it.  I’ve got a recap post planned and I’ll post it as soon as I finish some other important tasks.

I stopped at K-Mart today (before I went to get the Doodlebug — shopping is easier without him begging for toys) and picked up my prescription for Clomid which I’ll start taking tomorrow.  I’m pretty optimistic about this cycle, but I must say that even if it doesn’t work, I won’t be taking it next month.  I’m hoping this is the “boost” that does whatever it’s supposed to do.

Also at K-Mart, I got a new ceramic-barrell curling iron.  I’ve been wanting to curl my hair for awhile, probably because I can’t remember the last time I did something with my locks other than straighten them with a flat iron.  When I went to use my old metal-barrelled Revlon a few weeks ago, I noticed the curls went flat instantly.  My hairdresser told me that the metal ones cause static and the curl won’t set, and they are bad for the ends of my hair.  We’ll see how this new one works.

I also bought three new books, one of which is Marley & Me (I refuse to see the movie until I can read the book, although I said that about The DaVinci Code and I still haven’t finished that book — and I did see the movie when it was on HBO a while back).  Can’t wait to read that book, but I’m still trying to get through Gone With the Wind.  Even though I’ve read Margaret Mitchell’s masterpiece at least twelve times, I love reading it every few years.

Dawson got three new CARS cars and a children’s bible.  I knew I’d have to persuade him to come home, so I told him I had a surprise for him at home (even though I had bought the stuff before I picked him up, and had it in the car!).

My little guy didn’t want to leave his grandparent’s house.  This is the first time he’s spent the night there in a very long time.  Usually he starts to cry when it gets dark, and wants to go home.  But, since we were out of town, he had to get over his fear.  Grandpa took him tobogganing and sledding, they rented movies and had dinner at Pizza Hut.  No wonder he didn’t want to leave!  He was spoiled rotten!

So.  That’s what’s up so far.  More to come.  I just need to go to bed.  Sleep sounds so good right now.  I didn’t get much sleep last night at the hotel.  There was an argument between boyfriend and girlfriend on our floor and it was so loud that we actually had to call the front desk to complain.  They told us they received other complaints as well, and the cops were on the way.  Not sure what happened, but I saw two Milwaukee cops dragging a guy down the hallway when I was peeking out of the peep hole in our hotel room.  This was at 2 a.m., so needless to say I’m a little sleep deprived.  My bed is calling my name….

Dinner was delicious.  We both had the ribeye steak and potato puffs, and I had chicken dumpling soup while he had the tossed salad.  Then we had cheesecake for dessert, too.  I had several cocktails — before, during and after dinner.  One too many cocktails.

(Speaking of the desserts, the waitress told us if we didn’t like cheesecake we could order an ice cream drink instead.  So then I said, “Oh!  Do you have the cricket one?”  And she replied without missing a beat, “No, but we do have the Grasshopper.”  That was totally what I meant.  Cricket, grasshopper — same family, right?)

I started out drinking a glass of Coca-Cola.  Then I decided since I drink maybe once a year I was going to enjoy myself and have a screwdriver.  After two of those, I switched to Malibu and OJ because the vodka was tasting funny.  That could possibly be because I was getting sloshed.

Doug had two Budweisers and then promptly stopped drinking so that he could drive us home, but the friends who hosted the dinner invited us to their house for a glass of wine, or coffee and to hang out.  Because we like these friends, Doug and I agreed.

When we got there, I decided to have soda so that I could sober up.  I thought that I could avoid a hangover that way.  It didn’t work.

While at the after party, Doug got to try a wheat beer that our friend E. offered him.  It was a German beer (I only know this because it had Weisse in the name) and let’s just say it was probably made of river water and rotten cheese because the toxic gas emissions these men were giving off could have killed a village.

We were just getting ready to leave (because my brother was babysitting and we didn’t want him to drive home too late) when S. got me involved in a game of Catch Phrase.  Oh my gosh is that way too much fun.  Imagine six drunk people trying to play a hilarious game, similar to the game Taboo.  Much laughter and cursing were shared.  I had the best time so I promptly purchased the game from Amazon.com today.

Right after I drank three huge glasses of water and swallowed an Excedrin.

Oh the headache.

Now were going to have lunch at the Tempura House.  Nothing cures a hangover like salty Chinese food!

The Wednesday before my departure, I frantically ran around town as well as around my house, completing last minute errands and checking my luggage 80 million times to make sure I wasn’t forgetting anything. Total waste of time, because I realized I packed too much when the mountain of swag I collected wouldn’t fit in my suitcase. I ended up having to ship most of that stuff home on Sunday, because there’s no way that Northwest Airlines would let me check that bag without charging me $50.

I couldn’t sleep at all that night, the anxiety and anticipation were killing me. However, I had nothing to worry about, because this year’s trip to BlogHerCon was fantastic. 100% better than Chicago, and I love that Windy City.

Thursday morning I woke up at the ass crack of dawn, showered and got dressed, while Doug got Dawson ready. My boys were driving me to the airport and thankfully, I was smart enough to put all my bags in the car the night before. At 5:30 a.m. we were on the road for the 35 minute drive to Central Wisconsin Airport.

It was kind of difficult for me to leave Dawson. I must have kissed him 100 times and I started to cry as I walked into the airport and saw my little boy waving from the backseat as they drove away. Doug didn’t want to bring him inside the airport because Dawson wasn’t so happy with me leaving and it might have made matters worse.

After the usual checking-in procedures and getting through the grueling security measures, I was on my way to San Francisco . My plane departed at 7 a.m. and I was dreading the 4 1/2 flight. I was so excited to be going to California for the very first time.

I arrived in the City by the Bay at around 11:30 a.m. Pacific time, and I managed to find a shuttle to the Westin St. Francis Hotel where the conference was being held. Once I got to the hotel, I tried to check-in but didn’t realize the intricacies of hotel check-in procedures.

Turns out, I need a credit card with a huge limit in order to stay at the fancy Starwood hotel. For security reasons, we keep our credit limits low ($500 max) to avoid huge losses in the event our cards are stolen, so I wasn’t able to get my room keys. I tried to use my debit card to pay for the room in full, but apparently the Westin doesn’t accept payment in full until check-out (which is very, very strange) and instead they asked me for a cash deposit for the room cost plus $200 for incidentals.

Unfortunately, I don’t carry $800 in cash because my greatest fear is being mugged. So, I had to sit in the lobby for nearly two hours until my amazing roommate got to the hotel. She was able to use her American Express card to get us checked in.

While I was waiting for Anne and our other roommate Elizabeth, I found PunditMom wandering around the lobby and we had a quick bite at Caruso’s, a little cafe in the hotel lobby. While we were chatting, Jenn from Mommy Needs Coffee stopped over. A few moments after that, Christina from A Mommy Story popped over and we all hung out for awhile.

After that, Jenn welcomed me to her hotel room to wait for my roommates, and I met Busy Mom for the first time. She and Jenn were roomies and they graciously allowed me the use of their ladies room to straighten my hair and change out of my travel clothes.

A little while later, I met Krisco from Crib Ceiling and told her how much I missed Mary Tsao. She and Mary were roomies at BlogHerCon last year, and I told her I go to Flickr every day to get my Daily Dose of Mary via her fabulous photos. I was happy to learn that Kris does the same thing!

Finally, Anne called my cell phone to let me know she arrived at the hotel and just a little while after that we had keys to our room. Or so we thought. We got up to room 952 and started to put our luggage on the beds. The I looked in the closet and saw someone else’s clothes hanging in the closet. Anne discovered a man’s business cards on the desk. We had been checked in to an occupied room.

I made a frantic call to the front desk and told them about our problem and I was assured that we’d be checked into a fresh, clean, unoccupied room immediately. I ran downstairs to get the new keys and then Anne and I rode the elevator to the eleventh floor and where we found our new, much larger and totally awesome room.

We each claimed two corners of the room to toss our suitcases, and then I patiently awaited for Elizabeth’s arrival a little while later. Once she got in, I gave her a room key and then we all just sort of chilled for a few moments.

Elizabeth then introduced me to her friend Lori who came down to our room awhile later. Lori is awesome. She has this sweet, southern accent that I somehow managed to pick up. Okay, really, I’ve always had this knack for picking up accents, but the suthin’ speak is something I’m accustomed to, being that one of my closest friends is from Texarkana and whenever we hang out I start saying things like, “Fixin’ to” and “All y’all.”

After our introductions and a few photos, Elizabeth, Lori and I headed to the lobby to meet Jennster (also known as Dirty Mouth Whore, if you ask Lori — don’t worry, it’s a term of endearment, I promise) before going to the Kirtsy/Alltop party at Guy Kawasaki‘s house. Anne stayed behind to freshen up and grab a bite to eat before the many other cocktail parties going on Thursday night.

Let me just say that Guy Kawasaki lives 31 miles south of San Francisco, and somehow we thought he lived 31 minutes south of the city. After a two hour shuttle ride to Atherton — two hours because our driver was a moron who twice passed the street we needed to turn onto — we arrived to a beautiful California home with rose bushes and hydrangeas lining the flower beds.

Guy’s backyard was meticulously manicured. Green grass, beautiful Japanese lanterns and swimming pool in shape of the number eight were just part of the scenery. The food was delicious. We had paella, grilled vegetables and barbecue in a cup, as well as delectable hors d’oeuvres and wines.

I was in awe of everything, and when I was introduced to Guy Kawasaki, I was rather shy. In all honesty, I didn’t know who he was, other than the founder of Alltop (and no, I’m not on Alltop, but I was asked that a hundred times that night).

We stayed at the party for about an hour and then promptly got back on the shuttle to head back to the city for the three other cocktail parties we had to attend. We stopped by the Mom Central party, the Experience Project Party and then finally, the People’s Party. (Note to future party hosts: Please, don’t have all the parties on Thursday night! It’s too much stress and takes way too much planning to be able to attend everything all in one night.)

I can’t exactly remember all of the goings on of Thursday night, but I’m sure the pictures will explain it all:

Shannon, Shannon, Crunchy Carpets, Liz, Amber & Me

Christina, Me, Deven, Lori & Jennster

Christina, Me, Julio & Lori

Lemon Drop…deliciously tart.

Yumm-O

Guy Kawasaki & Me

Me & Jennster and boob grabbage.

Jenn & Me

Caruso’s, in the hotel lobby.

More photos here.

Stay Tuned for Part II of my trip to BlogHer.

…my husband and I will put on our party clothes, the baby sitter will be here to watch Dawson and we’ll have an amazing dinner (rain check from the Anniversary Date that was canceled).  And if we’re lucky, the Doodlebug will be asleep when we arrive home.  You know…because I’ll have had a few drinks and I will not want to deal with a little boy who likes to stay up past his bed time.

Seven thirty really needs to hurry up.

We started at Big Todd’s Rumble Inn, a biker-themed bar in Stevens Point. Hell, it is a biker bar. Last night had a very familiar crowd in the bar. I saw 4 different people that I worked with at 3 different jobs. I hadn’t seen these people in years and they looked as though they’d just crawled out from under a rock.

I saw two women that I worked with at South Point Restaurant. These women were dressed in the most awkward clothing. One in a tube top and a long white skirt with cowboy boots, the other wearing what looked like a bed sheet. Or a tent. I couldn’t really be sure.

They saw my sister and me (at one time, Rachel worked there, too) and started yelling, “Oooooh, my gooooosh! You two look sooooo grown up. What are you up to? Talk to me?” as they spilled their drinks all over my purse. The damn thing now smells like cheap whiskey and Squirt. Yuck.

I never cared for these women because they were pushy, sleazy and very forward. By forward I mean they were not afraid to say anything no matter who they hurt or what the repercussions were (damn, this sounds like other people I know). After smiling and nodding for 10 minutes and making the bare minimum of conversation, I told Meghan and Rachel to suck up because we were leaving.

We headed to 2nd Street Pub next, formerly known as Frank & Ernie’s my father’s bar. He’s leasing to Holly the One Eyed Sailor and thank God she wasn’t there. I really don’t care for her and avoid her whenever possible.

We sat on the elbow of the bar where our family picture is immortalized beneath a coat of polyurethane. I started to reminisce the days gone by. The days of bartending. The days of being carefree. I missed all the old customers. “Uncle” Bernie, Dave Schelke and so many more.

Why didn’t I appreciate these people more when I was around them? I could kick myself for not spending more time really getting to know them. Was I so busy, wrapped up in my friends, gossiping with them instead of being kind and courteous to my father’s patrons? (And look at all the time I spent catering to my friends! What a waste!)

In the midst of my personal boo-hoo session, a tall, middle-aged man sat next to me.

“Hi, I’m Jeff, Holly’s nephew.” he said. My first instinct was to get up and move to a different seat, but I noticed there were no other available bar stools. I decided to take my own advice and give this guy the benefit of the doubt. He must be nice, I thought.

“Hi, Jeff, Holly’s nephew. I’m Dana. This is my cousin Meghan and that’s my sister Rachel.” I replied.

“What do you girls do for a living?” he asked.

“Well Jeff, I work for Travel Guard.” I told him.

“I’m a stripper.” said Rachel. And I burst out laughing. Uncontrollable laughter. It felt good. To have a deep belly laugh after all the days of tears and anger, was a gift from God.

“She’s not a stripper.” I said. “She’s lying to you.”

“Ooh no. She works at the New Yorker.” Meghan chimed in.

“You’re making me look like a liar, girls!” I said.

Jeff proceeded to swoon us with his charm and his love for Metallica. He asked me if I’d ever dance to whatever god-awful song was playing.

“I don’t know how to dance to this.” I said.

“Oh sure you do, it’s like this.” He demonstrated his slick dancing moves which looked more like muscle spasms and knee-jerk reactions similar to having a doctor check your reflexes. I couldn’t stop laughing. Rachel and Meghan were in stitches. At that moment I wanted to hug this Jeff. I wanted to hug him for being himself. For not caring what anyone thought of him. For really putting himself out there. He didn’t give a rats behind if we thought he was crazy. Even if he was crazy, I didn’t care. At that moment I started to tear up.

“What’s the tears for? Is my dancing that bad?” he said as he sat back down in his chair.

I shook my head and said, “Oh no, no. That’s not it. Thank you for brightening my night.”

Jeff introduced us to his friend Nate. Turns out “Nate” was Nate Garski, a scrawny kid who’d ride his bike all over the neighborhood and he’d come into the bar to order food when my dad ran it. He looked so different. He was taller and more mature looking and I started to feel old.

“Oh my gosh, Nate. You grew up! I feel so old!” I said.

Nate told me he was 23 years old and followed that statement with, “I’m gay.” Which stunned me. Not something I expected to hear in a conversation! He then told me he lives in the area and comes into the bar every once in awhile.

Jeff proceeded to guess my age and his method included me putting my hand over his heart and closing my eyes. I think he was just being silly or flirty. It was a riot.

“You’re twenty-four.”

“No, I’m older.”

“Thirty-two.”

“No! Younger!” and I removed my hand.

“Hey! Wait! I need that!”

I just kept laughing and told him he just wanted me to keep my hand on his heart. He laughed and agreed he was just being a dork. I nodded because I’m a dork, too. It was at that moment that Jeff’s girlfriend Patty came in and started screaming at the top of her lungs that someone broke into her house and stole her clothes and photo albums but not her Harley. I had to fight back laughter. Clearly this women was crazy drunk and obnoxious. Jeff saw me smiling and he rolled his eyes in my direction as Patty told him, “Wipe that fucking smirk of your face.”

I knew it was time to go. But I still have to say thank you to Jeff, Holly’s nephew. Wherever you are, you made life just that much better.

We then left our old stomping ground and headed to Partner’s Pub. Packed. As. Usual. Too many college kids. Too many loud, drunk 21 year olds celebrating their birthdays. We spotted friends of my husband, Troy, Aaron and Dave across the bar and waved, but I’m not certain they were coherent enough to wave back.

After Partner’s Pub we headed to Post Road Pub (lots of Pubs in this town). PRB is owned by my cousin Kevin Tepp and his wife/fiance/significant other Mary Gerritts. They were just a bit drunk but bought us a drink and we were able to play the new internet jukebox. That was fun. After a few shots and discussions about our lives and relationships, we went to Jeepers Gin Mill. We didn’t stay long because some pervy guy was hitting on Meghan.

We walked down the road to Sandy’s Bar and I had a soda because I was driving. My father’s best friend Mike Kenowski was there. He is in town for a wedding and came over to talk to us. Mike and his family live in Maggie Valley, NC. He told us how he was going to visit with my Dad today and that Aunt Irene (his mom) is still hanging in there; still playing the game of life. Irene’s husband Greg passed away a few years ago. We all still miss him.

It was 1:30 before I knew it and told the girls to slam their drinks so we could go home. I had to work at 8 a.m today. Five hours of sleep just isn’t enough anymore. I’m not 21 anymore, and it shows.

Friday after work, my husband FINALLY called to say he was alive and fishing his rear off. He and his pal Dan caught some trout. The good news is I didn’t have to eat them. I’m not a big fish fan.

Dawson and I had Little Caesar’s pizza delivered because I didn’t care to eat left over lasagna (again). After dinner we went outside on the swing set. I can never get that little bug to come back into the house afterward. If he had his way, he’d eat and sleep out there on the swing. I finally managed to bribe him with ice cream and then put him to bed at about 8:30. I tried to read my book for a bit, but I ended up crawling into bed. Little Murphy crawled in after me and did his usual “turn three times and lay down” bit.

Saturday morning, I awoke to Dawson yelling “Mumma” over and over again from his crib. I went into his room to check on him and he smiled wide and said, “EL-O Mumma”. Which I think was “Hello”. We had Berry Burst Cheerios for breakfast and the Doodlebug gave half of his bowl to the dog.

“What are you doing?” I asked Dawson.

He looked at me, looked at Murphy and then back at me and said, “Mumma, dis a bow.”

I almost passed out, that was his first sentence! “Yes, that is a bowl.” I said to him. “But we don’t give our bowl to Murphy.”

After breakfast I turned on the weather channel and saw that the temperatures wouldn’t be higher than 69 degrees. The sun was out but it definitely was not warm enough to go swimming. I was rather sad. I suppose I could have watched the weather channel on Thursday or Friday to know this, but I was just too busy.

Instead of the beach, Dawson and I went to some rummage sales with Grandma J. and Uncle Frankie. It was kind of fun. My mom got some nice antique bargains and I found Dawson some summer clothes that he can play in and ruin for all I care. I love the bargains! After a few hours we decided to have lunch at McDonald’s and then we went back to my mom’s house to just hang out.

My brother Frank and I went four wheeling to the Wisconsin River by our parents house. I took Dawson along and we saw lots of wild life; including a snake (ICK) and two baby racoons! I took some pictures! I have a new album. Dawson thought the racoons were puppies. I had to prevent him from going any closer, for fear of him getting a rabid bite (and I was still creeped out by the fact that snakes were near by).

When we got back to the house my Doodlebug was so tired. He ended up staying overnight at my parents. He just loves it there! I went home to let Murphy out to pee and then I went across the street to my neighbor’s house. Rick and Denise have a daughter Keli, who graduated high school and her party was that night. It was so nice to be out without having to worry about my son or my husband. The party was a ton of fun. We sat by the fire pit and had a few drinks. Keli had tons of friends over and they happened to be drinking alcohol they brought and at 1:30 the cops showed up. Every underage kid scurried to the basement except four and they got a citation of $250 for underage drinking. I felt so bad. None of these kids were driving home, they deposited their keys at the door. Needless to say I ended up partying with my fun neighbors unti 4:30 in the morning — Yes, Dana was a wild girl.

Sunday, I recuperated from the hangover and my parents dropped Dawson off at 11 a.m. and he took a nap right away so I caught up on my sleep. Doug arrived home from his trip at 2:30 in the afternoon and we all went out for McDonalds (again!) for dinner. It was a pretty good weekend.

Not too exciting. But hey!! It was good either way!

Anyone else do anything fun or crazy??