Apparently, the rule is that you don't have to blog at all when you are at BlogHer?

If that is the rule, then sweet. I am still an ardent A-student.

But if being at BlogHer, with the cocktails and the colleagues and the running into people about whom you know way too many details but cannot remember their name to save your soul....oh! and the sessions, means blogging it all zealously and with the speed of a thousand mojito and swag hangover cures, then damn. I am over, baby. Oh so ovah.

Instead of boring you all with the play-by-play, here are a few photos that capture it best.

Maybe best is pushing it. These few photos that I did take (hey, it is hard to hold a cup of coffee, a Bloody Mary, a BlackBerry and a camera all at once) just capture.

Regardless of what your very polite mama may have taught you about demurely ordering one last white zin spritzer at last call and then leaving long before the servers stare you down until you are telepathically forced from your seats and out the door, this is how my bloginas respond to that last call hooey. And just so you know, if you happen to meet Bad Kitty for the first time in person forty-seven seconds before the lady in the polyester tux disapprovingly tells you, "Umm, LAST. CALL. honey," and Bad Kitty says, "Order two and run to that table in the corner," just do as Bad Kitty says. You might spill a smidge but it will all be for the best in the end. (More pics after the jump and stealthily hidden from my mother's glance at the page).

Maybe this photo hints at "No,it won't be fine in the end... But it will be fun."

In all seriousness, these pics may give you the idea that this was
really a weekend of BoozeHer. That, and the fact that not a lick of
blogging was done. Really, I was quite sober. And really, those are
Good 'n Plenties. Swearsy. Sure, it was staged. But isn't Bad Kitty's
plastique concern priceless?

And just so you know that there really was a group of us imbibing on
all that table stacked with beverages, and just so you don't get some
creeped out idea that Bad Kitty has replaced Emmy Rossum in my book (erm, yes, still listening eight or 14 times a day),
here's a gratuitous crowd laughter pic (stop me, please, before I start waxing obsessive over the bargain blog). You've got to love you some CityMama giggle-fest.

Now that you are thoroughly bored with my pretend pass-out pictures and with all the BlogHer redux you've been reading, take a deep breath and plan your return for a fun little game I call Guess The Blogger By The Shoes (oooh!). It will be thrilling and complicated, I promise.

Maybe not as thrilling and complicated as...say, Sudoku, but possibly a winded hair of ride beyond the Jumble. Plus, there will be prizes. And the prizes will not be recycled swag. Oh no. I paid way to much to check that stuff on to the airplane to give it away because you freakishly can identify a blogger by her footwear. I will be hording those plastic shakers for a long time, friends. Long after you've started photographing BlogFeet next summer.

Confidential to the frock-tabulous, trench-tastic Susan Wagner:
I didn't take the couch (good move) or the DVD player (not such a good
move) in the divorce, but I did walk out the door with the camera. It's
just barely over the line from flash-cube to digital. But lovey, the
only fingers all greased up from wedge fries and Skittles that will be
man-handling it will be my own.  And yes, you've inspired (or just said it straight, really, that I needed to buck up and buy it already) I am totally going to buy a
cute new camera that can actually fit in my pocket (no, not in those
jeans, but who cares?) and it is so going to be pink.  And Susan, you
can poke as much fun of my camera as you like, but you know my shoes
were slamming, sister. Oh wait. Those were your shoes. And I was taking a picture of them with my wind-up camera. Damn. It's all good. I am clipping coupons for Best Buy right now.