When my Other Sister and I were about fourteen and fifteen years old, more or less, Mom and Dad took us all to the Cincinnati Zoo. We stayed in a downtown hotel, and Other and I had our own room. My brother and Tumorless stayed in the room with Mom and Dad.

That afternoon, Dad gave O.S. and me TEN DOLLARS APIECE and turned us loose in downtown Cincinnati. I can’t speak for my sister, but I was so surprised at the permission and so blown away by that much money that I was almost in shock as we began walking around the city, looking in the big windows and gawking like the small-town tourist-girls that we so sadly were. I don’t remember if I bought anything, but I remember watching my sister try on culotte-dresses, which were all the rage back then. I remember looking at her and thinking how pretty she was, and how nice she looked in the white culotte dress she finally chose. I can remember thinking – possibly for the first time, because I was a strange and moody kid and usually so lost in books that real life annoyed me – that she wasn’t merely a slightly younger sister whose sole purpose on this earth was to bother me, but that she was a person in her own right, and she was beautiful and smart and was going to make a positive difference in the world. I watched her turn in the many-faceted mirror and every view of her was beautiful.

When we got home, I took her picture, as she stood in front of our house wearing her white dress. I’d post it here, but O.S. values her privacy.

I’m still cleaning up Mom’s old photographs; this picture was one of them, tonight. It brought back a lot of memories. All of the pictures are bringing back memories, but the picture of my Other Sister, so young and pretty and smiling, in her new white dress that was purchased in the Big City while two young teens were on their own for a few hours and trusted with what was, to us, an incredible amount of money, made me smile, and wish she lived closer.

This trip was also the only time in my entire life that I’ve had my own hotel room. Well, shared with someone other than a parent or husband, that is. It’s also the only time I’ve ever explored a city without an adult pretty much holding my hand and telling me when it’s okay to cross the street. Seriously, you all have NO IDEA how provincial and small-town and backward I really am. I can face rooms full of needy students and I can give them what for and I can lecture to huge groups, and discuss, and I can stand my ground with nonsense and entitlement issues, and I can bustle around in a kitchen full of people and I can go to conventions and seminars and give demonstrations and talk to total strangers, and I pretty much know exactly what to do when people NEED me, but when I’m faced with meeting people I’m not working with. . . people who don’t really need me. . . . people I can’t do anything for, work-wise. . . people I hope will, well, um, love me and want to hang out and be friends. . . I’m at a total loss sometimes.

I’m looking forward to BlogHer for many reasons, and one of them is that while I am there, I’ll be working – and it’s so easy to relax and meet and talk to people when I’m working because, um, they HAVE to talk to me because they will need me – and while I am there, I’ll also be on a panel – and it’s so much easier to talk and relax when I have a defined purpose – but most of all? Most of all?

I love BlogHer because so many people I’ve read and loved and, okay, yes, KNOWN, for several years now will be there, and I’m going to try to stand up straight, take a deep breath, and approach them without melting into a bubbly mass of insecurity.

I’ve made two good starts. I’m going to Chinatown with Fausta, and I’m sleeping with Monty.

That’s right. We’re going to be ROOMIES in SAN FRANCISCO in a big fancy HOTEL without responsible adults to watch over us!

And then the three of us will hit Chinatown and who knows what else because I’ve had experience walking around a big city, by golly, and we’re going to paint the town.

That ten dollars is sounding pretty good right now, too.

I think all of you should sign up for BlogHer. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had in all my entire life, that didn’t involve a theme park pass or nudity.

Then again, there are theme parks in California, and who am I to dictate to people what to wear?

Blogroll. . . Google Reader. . . I want to see you in person, and I want pictures.

And when I get to BlogHer, I don’t want to miss a thing. Alert Steven Tyler.

Can’t wait. CAN’T WAIT. But I try to be mature about it.

Mamacita, Scheiss Weekly