Call me crazy.

It suits me fine.

Five days ago I was driving across the country on what has been the largest-scale move we’ve made yet—and that’s with moving five times in five and a half years of marriage.

I was in Colorado for two whirlwind days. We unloaded the moving truck. (When I say “we,” I mean “they,” because I had nothing more to do with it than to smile and nod and say “Thank you, thank you so much, you wonderful, beautiful people .”) We unpacked a box or two. We froze our batooties off in the single digit and negative temps. We dug around and found the snow boots. We dug around and never found the one box that says OPEN FIRST.

And now? I’m in Nashville. At the Blissdom conference.

I. Know.

My three guys have sent me off for a weekend filled with people who speak my language without batting an eye and give hugs like they’re free candy, while the three of them are back at home—new home, that is—making snow angels with the cousins and eating Grandma’s warm comfort food.

It’s all a bit surreal—I hopped on a plane in Denver and ran into two other Blissdom ladies on my flight. We had no problems chatting it up for the next couple hours, all while drooling over Rebecca’s baby. I’m staying with sweet and hilarious Annie, whom I saw for the first time on her doorstep but could almost swear we’ve met in another (pretend) life. I’m meeting up with older friends, newer friends, bloggie buddies and soon-to-be buddies, and a whole lotta people I recognize and try to get up the nerve to meet. (Oh, blog-ebrity, how thou amusest me!) I’m going out of my comfort zone as a blog conference newbie and slipping back into it when I see people I know.

Call me crazy. Because this is crazy awesome.