I decide if it doesn't hurt anyone, it's fair to post.
Why pretend to be something you're not, is what I tell myself. So I go ahead, and hit publish.
This past Sunday, while unpacking from BlogHer -- and, yes, I see the eyes popping out of your head as you say, "BlogHer? Wasn't that like two weeks ago??!!" Yes. Yes, it was. Moving on.
As I was unpacking, I began to notice quickly, a pattern in the SWAG I came home with from the fabulous San Diego expo center.
Items like this lay across the top of my suitcase:
Right next to this big red box, we see:
Underneath all of it, we have scattered packets of:
Between the T shirts and underwear, there are:
- Calcium chews
- Boxes of Quaker Oats cereal
And all that this SWAG tells about me can be summed up with this one item:
|Anna Lefler's The Chicktionary FootFile (BEST SWAG ev-ER)|
Where was the sexy? Did I come home with the Edenfantasys swagbag containing -- among other things -- the big purple beastie? Did I have languid Skinny Cow glue-on eyelashes? Was there any hot and technical social savvy information from intel, samsung?
No. Because no matter how far we travel from our homes, we're still with ourselves.
And my SWAG proves it.
On the full plane ride home, after munching on the sample boxes of cereal I prided myself on having been practical enough to pack, I reached into my bag o'swag and pulled these out to wipe my hands down:
|Edenfantasys AfterGlow moist towelettes, for after those raucous times|
Based on the SWAG I brought home, I may think of myself as a dork, but the guy sitting next to me sure didn't.