A year ago I wrote a post about Flying Your Own Freak Flag.
I put it all out there.
I owned up to every one of my imperfections.
I aired all my dirty laundry.
And then I embraced it all.
Almost two weeks ago, I went to Haven Conference.
While there, I paraded around in my Hee Haw Yacht Club t-shirt.
And my Stones t-shirt.
With a blazer and holey jeans.
I’m sure that broke a fashion rule or two.
My mouth spewed forth obscenities.
I bought my own cheap beer to store in my room for the weekend.
I drank too much of it.
I was loud.
I called my friends hookers and skitches.
They even let me teach a session.
I have no idea what they were thinking either.
Whether you have a blog or not, let’s all go on and admit that we each have our own brand.
Yep, that’s pretty much it in a nutshell.
I talked about how I use social media to grow my brand…
…and used the Duck Taped Wagon Pool as an example.
I even used a quote from Garth Brooks as my ending point.
I owned me.
And tried to teach people something in the process.
And the craziest thing happened.
They laughed. They learned.
And I only said one curse word during the entire session.
It was a damn miracle.
And one dear sweet lady, Mechele from Cozy & Classic Furniture, even walked up to me the next day and said, “I think you are fabulous. I just wanted you to know.”
Bless her heart.
I really wanted to take her home with me so she could tell me that everyday.
I didn’t worry if my eyeliner was smeared.
Or if my pants were too snug and I had a muffin top.
I picked tomatoes from the hotel’s garden during the cocktail party.
Because really – who can resist fresh tomatoes?
Allison and I took a photo with two guys decked out in suits made from two of La-Z-Boy’s upholstery choices.
Seriously, who comes up with such an awesome idea?
For the first time ever, and let’s be real, probably the last, Amy and I rode in a stretch Hummer complete with disco lights.
Both of us also rocked our stellar dance moves.
Ok, let’s be honest. Hers are stellar. Mine suck.
We had dinner and I became the current holder of “who can eat the most sushi.”
Also, I got groped.
So I jumped on her.
And we fell.
And Abby is wondering how she ever got hooked up with us.
We had a ball.
As always, Sunday was a little bittersweet. I was ready to see Grunt and the circus, but I hate that I only get to see these amazing women once a year.
Since I seem to have went down a rabbit hole of memories from the weekend, here’s the point to all this.
The real you.
Not the you that television or magazines or your friends say you should be.
The real you that feels comfortable in your skin.
The real you that you discovered 15 years ago, but somehow managed to lose touch with.
Put it all out there.
Screw the haters that will mock you.
And Fly That Damn Freak Flag High.
You know you don’t wanna miss any of this crazy.
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