Blogging conference keynotes are like other keynotes until they aren't. The keynotes at BEA Bloggers Conference were hilarious. 

First up was Jennifer Weiner, who has been pumping out almost a novel a year for the past twelve or so years. She had a lot to say about the New York Times, chick lit (or really, do we have to call it that?) and the ups and downs of her writing career. I found her funny and approachable, especially when she told us to let her know if her bra showed while she was talking. And she was a salty girl, which is always entertaining if the person has a great sense of humor, which Jennifer does.

I didn't see the closing keynoter Jenny Lawson (also known as The Bloggess and oh, that debut author who has been sitting on the New York Times bestseller list for the past six weeks) until right before she took the podium. 

Me: Dude, you should know that Jennifer Weiner dropped six F-bombs and two "blow jobs" in her keynote.

Jenny: Really? Wow.

Me: Yeah. I think that's not the bar, that's the floor.

Jenny: Oh shit.

I wasn't too worried. Jenny, after all, said "lady garden" on CNN.

She ended up telling us the story of her ten-year overnight success and how her "mythical hobbit" showdown with Heather Armstrong (aka Dooce) (also an awesome person and friend with many books you should buy) at BlogHer 2008 ended up getting the attention of her now agent, Neeti Madan, with whom I served on a blogs to books panel at the same fated BlogHer conference -- a panel which apparently drove Jenny to drink. (I'm sorry, Jenny. Eek.) I didn't know Jenny back then but I, too, was fascinated and ended up reading her blog and became a huge fan shortly thereafter. The woman is so funny she can make me cry with one sentence. I'm not kidding. Go buy her book. The story turns out well because Heather and Jenny became friends, but as two extremely well known bloggers who now have to live their lives online, I feel for both of them. I applaud their success online and offline and believe them both to be talented writers who deserve every accolade. Those of us who are not extremely well known have no idea what it's like to have our actions critiqued publicly all the time. Following the evolution of the mythical hobbit reminded me HELLO BLOGGERS ARE PEOPLE and also? Don't analyze people in public. It's rude. I try very hard not to do that anymore. ANYMORE -- because I have done it in the past, and I truly regret it. /moral of the story

It was interesting to see two funny ladies -- one well into her career and one who's just slipped under the velvet rope into the world of Big Six publishing -- tell their versions of the journey to publishing success. Congratulations to both of them. I wish you guys could've been there. Also, Jenny and I spent Tuesday night in the same hotel only I didn't know it until I saw her the next day. Jenny started tweeting about it and managed to trend #WorstHotelEver. I walked in, feared bedbugs, walked around the street and bought a bottle of wine even though it was midnight. It is very easy to miss material, my good friends.

I have funny stories from my trip to Book Expo America to speak at its subconference, Book Bloggers Conference. However, as always happens when you return from a business trip at 10 pm during the work week, I'M DYING. So, tomorrow! In the meantime, please to enjoy some fuzzy, crappy pictures I took with my phone!

Horseless carriages. I SLAY ME!!!

Panel beginning to fill up -- it had great attendance, phew!

Book Blogger Convention co-founder Michelle Franz and my partner in bookish crime at BlogHer, Karen Ballum aka Sassymonkey.

Me, Jenny Lawson (The Bloggess) and Karen Ballum (Sassymonkey)

There is so a story behind this.

Also, Ray Bradbury died today. My tribute to him is on BlogHer.

I'm getting ready to take off for New York City to speak at Book Bloggers Conference, which is part of Book Expo America. The opening keynote is author Jennifer Weiner, and the closing remarks -- wow, is the world small -- are by my friend Jenny Lawson, also known as The Bloggess.

My session is on monetizing book blogs. I'm excited to meet and talk shop with my fellow panelists.

So You Want to Make Money?

Syndication, Monetization and Affiliate Programs for your Blog

Moderator: Scott Fox, ClickMillionaires.com
Speaker: Rita Arens, Senior Editor, BlogHer.com
Speaker: Ron Hogan, Beatrice.com 
Speaker: Thea James, Co-Founder, The Book Smugglers
Speaker: Sarah Pitre, Blogger, Forever Young Adult 

Though it's making me sad to leave for two nights, I'm beyond excited to wade in the deep end of publishing for a while day and a half. I WILL TAKE WHAT I CAN GET AND LIKE IT.

I'll be photoblogging hopefully while I'm there so I can take you with me. This is a huge conference for the publishing industry, and I have no idea what to expect.

BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS 

I can't do it. I can't do it! I can't buy my eight-year-old daughter a bikini. Or even a tankini. I do not want to see her exposed midriff!

I see other little girls at the pool wearing bikinis. They look cute. My mom friends let their girls wear bikinis and tankinis. I'm not judging.

But there we were in Target looking at the swimwear selection. She was begging for a bikini, and I kept looking at her and looking at the swimwear, and looking at her.

"Nope. Not happening," I said, and picked out eight super-cute one-piece swimsuits.

I'm that mom. The mom who won't let her girl wear heels even though Suri Cruise has changed little girls' footwear selections until she gets old enough to just have her Playboy cover and be done with it. I'm the mom who pulled her daughter out of a dance academy after seeing the nine-year-olds dressed like Katy Perry at the recital. The mom who won't let her daughter get even a tankini.

I told Beloved about my decision when I got home. He paled beneath his tan. "I can't take it," he said. "No way is she wearing a bikini."

At least I'm not the only prude parent in this house.

I wrote a post today for BlogHer admitting that I really can't stand being plugged in all the time -- so I'm not. I know many, many "normal" people who have no problem avoiding social media and email, but not too many people like me -- bloggers, people who work in new media. Am I the only one?

I have a confession to make: I have no problem unplugging. Hello, my name is Rita, I work on the Internet, and I frequently leave the house without my phone. There, I said it.

I started blogging in 2004 and remember vividly sitting next to Liz Gumbinner at the BlogHer Business '07 in New York City watching her use this crazy thing called Twitter on her new-fangled iPhone. I didn't really get immersed in Twitter until 2009 when I joined BlogHer and no longer had to hide my social media use when someone walked by. In fact, I had more of it than ever -- trying to keep up with Twitter, Facebook, internal IM, two e-mail accounts, my blog, everyone else's blog and BlogHer.com was something that took some getting used to. I started having those work dreams about being assigned to catalogue the Internet again, and that's when I knew I had to get a handle on it.

Read the rest on BlogHer.

My doctor told me I should do yoga for my upper back pain. She told me this on the same day that she gave me a referral to a surgeon and a gastro doctor. Me not really being the yoga type, I bought Jillian Michael's version. It's a half hour of teeth-gnashing, panting hell, and that is the beginner version. For someone who has been lifting weights for the past fifteen years, Jillian Michaels can be quite humbling.

I had to take about two weeks off from Jillian due to the incisions in my leg. Of all things exercise, I was most concerned yoga would actually stretch the areas so much it would cause problems, so I waited until it was way healed before I tried it again ... yesterday.

I did not realize you could lose muscle strength so damn fast. I took five days off after my surgery before walking a few miles. The minute my surgeon cleared me after ten days, I went back to weighted squats and all that jazz with The Firm. I didn't expect any problems from Jillian, other than you know, her being JILLIAN.

As I was attempting not to fall off my hands during the side planks, the little angel walked over to me. She sniffed and stared at the sweat rolling off my red face as I sucked in air like a vacuum cleaner.

"You know, Mommy," she said. "It's a choice to do that to yourself."

I started laughing so hard I did fall. Off my pride. Ouch.

I'm not going to go into details, people, don't worry. But many commenters mentioned having tummy problems often amped by anxiety, and I've had really bad tummy problems for the past several years. Two years ago, I got a colonoscopy and we never quite solved them (but at least I know I don't have Crohn's or celiac disease or colon cancer, at least I didn't two years ago). 

Around the time I told my primary care doctor about The Lump (cue DJ Nibbles!), I told her about my tummy problems and she sent me to another gastro doc. The man was wearing a full-on, two-piece, blue-and-white pinstriped seersucker suit. With a bright blue tie. He reminded me of Bert Cooper on Mad Men.

His suit looked like this, only imagine it on a man of about 50 with little round glasses.

The suit was so distracting I nearly couldn't describe my symptoms.

So as I told him, yes, this problem is worst in the morning and it happens right after I eat anything and yes, it's really interfering with my life. He listened and started spouting something I totally didn't understand about bile malabsorption, which is a totally nonthreatening and mostly annoying problem that happens when some bile doesn't get absorbed in the small intestine (natch) and goes shooting into the large intestine, where it is the equivalent of Mentos in Diet Coke.

Guess how they treat it? CHOLESTEROL PILLS! Of course!

Don't ask me. SCIENCE.

So I have these four huge horse pills that I take each day, and I can't take them at the same time as my other meds because of ABSORPTION, so now I have to go buy a BIGGER daily pill pack thing because I swear I can never remember if I took the blasted things or not and I don't want to be the writer who dies from cholesterol pill overdose. I haven't even published my damn novel yet.

But ... so far it's working. It's not a perfect solve yet, but I just went jogging without fear. And that, my friends, is worth seersucker any day. So if you're having chronic tummy problems, don't give up. It might be as simple as ABSORPTION.

Scene: Gas station. Vicki is parked, and I'm pumping gas. Vicki's top is down. Stop it -- she's a convertible.

Little Angel: (with a clear view of the pump since the top is down) $1, $2, $3

Me: Yup.

Little Angel: That's going really fast.

Me: Yup. Vicki's got a fifteen-gallon tank. It's going to be like $50.

Little Angel: $15, $16 ... (on up to $48).

Me: Huh, gas prices must've gone down.

Little Angel: It costs that much money just to put gas in the car?

Me: Ha. Yes.

Little Angel: No wonder you're not a stay-at-home-mom.

Ba-dum, ching!

Speaking of not being a stay-at-home-mom due to financial necessity, I wrote a new post on crying vs. yelling at work over at BlogHer. The comments are great, go check it out!

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Struggling to get your kids to exercise? Check out my review of Geopalz on Surrender, Dorothy: Reviews!

[Editor's Note: I hesitate to even write this because it will confirm my mother's suspicions that black helicopters follow you everywhere on the Internet. But I feel compelled to share in case you live in fear of identity theft and have a good bank.]

The other day I was trying to withdraw money to throw away on overpriced food at the Royals game when the ATM machine was all I don't think so and spit an 800 number at me. We tried Beloved's card and it went through just fine. After a quick call to Bank of America, I learned that my account was restricted because of unusual use. 

As much as I have complained and hated on Bank of America, I have to admit they have a killer fraud department. This is the second time they have caught someone trying to use my card before any money escaped. Someone made a $1 charge at a hotel in another state and immediately reversed it, then a few hours later bought something for less than $30 on the Internet. That is how identity thieves take a test bite of you before annhilating your account. 

As a result, I haven't been able to use my debit card since Saturday. I need to get a new one. But it was more fun to drag Beloved around with me to the grocery store and Walmart on Sunday with a huge pile of stuff and then smile sweetly and say thank you and run away when it was time to pay.

I do worry about identity theft, but I also realize it's impossible for me to move through life never using my cards. I remember when my sister lived in Oregon, she got her checks washed (I didn't even know that was a thing), and even that righted itself in time. So thank you, Bank of America, for being so on top of my checking account. Even though I hate your fees.

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Speaking of shopping online, now that you're thoroughly either a) freaked out or b) feeling all nice and warm and safe, you may have noticed the little store I've got going on in my left rail. The folks at mphoria asked if I might like to make available some stuff for sale related to what I write about. If there is anything interesting in there, I may point it out from time to time. I don't pick everything, but I do pay attention. For example, there was a subscription to US Weekly and I asked them to remove it due to the whole misogynistic body bashing thing. I also asked for as much hardware and home improvement-related stuff they could get their hands on. The last time I looked, it contained a flashlight, "sleeping pants," water bottles and Harry Potter DVDs. If you buy something, I get a cut of some sort. Capitalism!