Because my life would not be complete without a hint of weird added to my every day, I submit to you my little tips on how to meet a famous person.

1. First, win a trip from JVC to BlogHer ’09.

2. Take a flight to O’Hare airport. It must NOT be an uneventful flight. No. Your plane must be sitting on the tarmac for an hour due to bad weather before it even takes off.

3. Land at O’Hare airport when the President of the United States of America happens to be landing at the same airport so that you again have to sit on the tarmac for quite a while.

4. Arrive at your hotel with a major headache and rush as fast as you can through check-in. Then, you must wrestle your suitcases that weigh more than you do up to your room. On the 28th floor.

5. Throw said suitcases into your room, brush your hair, and take amazingly fast hotel elevator down again to catch a taxi. You must be amazingly late to this dinner in which you will meet the people who paid for this great opportunity.

6. Alternately feel terrible that you are late while trying to give directions on how to get to the restaurant to the taxi driver who barely speaks English.

7. Arrive at Harry Caray’s. Meet your fellow winner’s of the sweepstakes and the sweetest PR gal. Because you haven’t eaten anything in 9 hours, and you are hypoglycemic, order the first thing your eye lands on on the menu. It was Chicken Marsala, which I had no idea what that was. But it was so yummy. So all’s good.

8. Sit there and talk to the other people at your table and then realize that lots of cameras are flashing toward the table behind you.

9. Find out that the person at the table next to you is Ernie Banks.

10. Say “Hey, cool! Ernie Banks.” Then lean toward PR gal from JVC and ask “Who is Ernie Banks?”

11. Whip out your BlackBerry as you and your other friends at the table take out their portable devices and Google “Ernie Banks.”

12. Find out that Ernie Banks was a baseball player and learn his whole life story from wikipedia. BlackBerries are amazing things, folks.

13. Take picture of Mr. Banks, who was very gracious talking to a young mom from Texas who had had no idea who he was just a few minutes before.

And that, folks, is how you meet a famous person.

The news yesterday about Twitter’s hacked information has brought out the either-or kind of thinking. Some are all for the public viewing if Tech Crunch does indeed publish “a variety of alleged documents including “financial projections, product plans and notes from executive strategy meetings,” and the original pitch for Twitter’s reality based television show.” (PC World, “Twitter Hacked, Secrets to be Revealed?” July 15, 2009) Others, such as Michael Hickins who writes for InformationWeek’s Digital Life Weblog, have pronounced that Tech Crunch’s Michael Arrington has crossed the journalistic line and so “should have the decency to step down.” (“Michael Arrington Should Step Down” July 16, 2009)

I do not normally write about stuff like this on my ol’ blawg. Posts on dirty diapers, drinking nasty smoothies, and writing reviews of homeschool products is my general forte. But I had to deviate this time.

The population of news media – think CNN or FoxNews and the like – is a group I tend to shy away from. Unless I am offered a link to read from a friend or family member, I do not watch/read/or view mainstream sources for so-called newsworth pieces. We do not watch television at all, so even turning on the nightly news doesn’t happen around here.

All that to say, I just really do not care for the so-called journalism that happens daily around the globe.

Stolen information is just that: stolen. They are not a gift handed to you to use in whatever way you want. Professional and moral decency has flown out of the window in Mr. Arrington’s case. I’m with Mr. Hickin’s in that a resignation, and even a public apology, should be in the works.

I am not personally privy to how news organizations gather their information. I am interested in what journalistic “lines” there are that should not be crossed, according to those in that profession. I am guessing that using stolen information as a news piece is crossing that line.

Thoughts? Convictions? Remarks?

In less than two short weeks I will be at BlogHer ’09. Pretty much everything is ready for this trip to be made. Except for a little thing that I kinda forgot. Sorta.

Business cards.

What’s the big deal, you may ask? Who cares if you have business cards are not? And why do you need a business card? You have a pitiful, wannabe blog, not a business.

(Oh, if you actually said that last sentence to me, I might cry a little bit. And then get a box of tissues. And some chocolate. Chocolate makes everything better.)

I quickly found out after winning my trip from JVC that if you want to quickly exchange information such as blog and email addresses with other bloggers, you buy business cards. It is much easier to whip out a card to hand to someone you meet, rather than “Oh, excuse me while I dig in this bottomless pit called a purse to find a crumpled up piece of paper and half a pencil to write my info on.” Unless you want the info written on baby socks. I seem to have lots of those in my purse.

Now, folks, I have had over a month to order some business cards. A month. More than. Yet, I like to live on the edge until there is less than two weeks. And so, this morning? Yeah, I decide that today is the day. I will easily pick a business card, fill in the necessary items, and have it shipped before I leave.

I love my dream world. It is such a fun place to be.

Did you know that if you wait to order business cards when you have less than two weeks before your event that you’ll need to get 3-day shipping? And did you know that 3-day shipping costs a little more than *gulp* $30. Thirty dollars.

As I am sure you have guessed, I will not have beautiful, professionally-made business cards to hand out to those I meet at BlogHer. They were pretty. Had a little bird. And some pink. And brown.

You never know, though. I may start the next trend. Black and white home printed business cards will be all the rage before you know.

And hey? At least my business cards did not originate from a place with a goofy monkey.

Just sayin‘.