So I'm here in San Jose, which is going quite well. I'm having an absolute shit-kicking blast. I'm serious. I am so incredibly glad that I came out here, and that's after a day and a half. I imagine tomorrow will be even better. There will be more details to come, I'm certain.

We're staying in a Hyatt by the airport. It's okay. It's a little dodgy - nothing too special, but it's clean, which is my main concern. I can't stand dirty places, or places that feel dirty even if they don't look it. And at this point, I'm used to staying in hotels by myself, and that doesn't bother me either. But tonight, I came back from a long day of working on the podcasting team (hello? I'm on the audio support team. Can you believe that shit? I am wearing headphones and operating expensive recording equipment. I KNOW. And today this guy told me I had "good levels", because all of the green lights stayed green and the orange light stayed orange and the red light only showed up a few times. And when he said that I got all proud of myself. I'm insisting that we all get our photo taken with our headphones on tomorrow. I'm sure I'll share.)

ANYWAY, I came back from all that techie goodness, and my hotel door was...open. Like, I went to put the key card in, and the door just pushed open. I was terrified. They had made some announcement that because the blogher conference was on the front page of the local paper, the hotel was all concerned because now people knew there were "700 women with laptops and expensive cameras populating the Hyatt", and we should be careful with our stuff. So I imagined that whomever they were talking about had, of course, come personally to my 3rd floor room and just, well, opened my door. I didn't know what to do. I'm in kind of a remote building on this property, which also doesn't thrill me, so I thought that if some dude was hiding in my bathtub and I went in the room, no one would hear me scream. I have, shall we say, the gift of fear. So I skulked downstairs, and promptly ran into this badass woman, who lives in Baltimore and has a site that I love.

"Hmm," I said to her, "I'm probably being really paranoid, but the door to my room was open and now I'm a little (HA! TRY SCARED SHITLESS TIL SUNDAY) to go in. Hm."

"Do you want me to go with you, to check it out?" she said. Eternally grateful, I said, "Would you?" and she was all, "Sure. I'll go." So Tracy and I went up the elevator again to my open-door room. She pushed the door and said, "Hellooooooo?" while I kind of stood there like a person whose room it was not .There was no answer, of course, so she came in with me and looked in the closet and the bathroom, and there was nobody there. I felt a little silly, but in the manner of a woman who I will totally love for all time, she said that she was always about people feeling safe, and whatever she could do.

No really, so nice of her.

So there was no one in my room, and I had kept all money and my camera and computer with me all day. The windows to my room were unlocked (this place and then Boston. What's with all the unsealed hotel windows?) I didn't know they had locks, and I noticed that the curtains (which are approximately 67 years old anyway) were kind of yanked off on one end. I couldn't remember if they were like that when I left, or if my mind was playing tricks on me. Everything else seemed intact in the room, which was odd also.

I'm still a little nervous - and I don't care about stuff so much as my personal safety, of course. It's scary to think that someone could be in your room, or that they can just come and go as they please. I hope the rest of the week is completely uneventful in that regard, and now, since it's almost 4 EST, I'm going to pass out. The windows are closed and the door is bolted. Nothing to see here.

Comments

[Maria Niles]

Laurie,

That's scary. I hope you complained to the hotel because, conference drama aside, that is so not acceptable.

On a more pleasant note - your pup is absolutely adorable.