I don’t mean to leave anyone out. If we met and I’ve omitted you, please don’t take it personally. You made this experience better than I ever dreamed possible.
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Hi, remember me? I know, I know. I haven’t posted in a while. And then there was BlogHer. And then my site decided to hate me. Faydra fixed me up right good and fast, though, so to end your breath holding, I gives you mah BlogHer ’12 recap. Sit.
Thursday
I’d waited (or, my money was funny is more accurate) too long to get a reasonably priced train ticket to New York so I opted for the bus. I shall hereby and henceforth never ever ever ever ever as long as I remain breathing opt for the bus again (at least, not Bolt Bus). It was over an hour late. We were waiting in a line outside that meant nothing depending on your seating letter. It was 90 degrees. There was traffic in Jersey. There was traffic at the Holland Tunnel. I was due at 4. I got in at 6:20. I missed the president’s address. I missed the Voices of the Year rehearsal. Correct map reading is for people who are not me, so I misread the map. I walked from 33rd to 54th. Yeah. Not a good start.
My roommate was none other than the amazing Ananda Leeke. Use those BlogHer-provided conference forums, y’all, because that’s how we connected. She was looking for a roommate, I was looking for a room, she lives in DC, I live in DC. Match made. It was nice to room share with someone I genuinely liked though we’d only spoken on the phone (even if she did make me do a podcast interview with stank morning breath). We walked into the Expo and turned back around. Overload! Too much on the first day! Must find food! Left without snagging a free vibrator! We had dinner and could have talked about anything in the world yet we wound up talking about Victor Newman because we are that damn steeped in reality.
I went to The People’s Party that night and happily met up with Kim, my first “blogger I love and follow connection” of the weekend. I didn’t stay long because I needed to find Alexandra and Suniverse.
Friday
I attended the Newbie Breakfast where I speed dated with other bloggers. The only session I was able to squeeze into was Turning Your Blog Posts into Publishable Essays led by the remarkable Rita Arens, Jennifer Armstrong, and Susan Goldberg. I left with information on how long to give print or online publications to respond to a submission or query, how often to nudge them if they’ve shown a bit of interest. I had information on sources that could show me how to pitch Redbook (!).
I had lunch with Martha Stewart. Sure, I was about six tables back from her being interviewed by Elisa, but, well, semantics. Martha is inspirational. Business savvy, funny, and smart, clips of her site on the iPad made me want one like never before. Clips from her new show on PBS made me want to find some damn cupcakes to frost and salmon skin to remove.
I tried to attend a few other sessions in the afternoon, but they were too crowded. I was amazingly comfortable, though, so I just walked around New York. My oldest daughter asked to see Fifth Avenue. “Show me the stores, Mommy, not the sky or buildings. And Bryant Park. I need to see Bryant Park.”
The Voices of the Year Community Keynote was phenomenal. I got to full body hug Shannon with a deep inhale of her hair. I had the bubble guts all day leading up to when we had to meet. As I walked onto the stage, I thought I’d surely throw up on Polly’s wing tips (they probably aren’t called wing tips). The minute I was at the podium, though, I was fine. I read those words like I’d just won a damn Pulitzer. I was proud. And then I was afraid. What if this is all just a fluke? What if they made a mistake selecting my piece? What if I tripped up these tiny ass stairs and got a rug burn on my knee? Sure, my husband will believe that.
Afterward, I was spoken to, congratulated, and hugged by all shapes, sizes, and color of women from all over the globe. There is no way to describe the feeling of having people seek you out, ask other people who you are, and introduce themselves to say how your words inspired them to feel, to think, to act (or later, to laugh at you getting shit on your shower curtain).
I decided to go to the Listen to Your Mother open mic session. Threw my name in a hat and was chosen randomly to read a post. I chose this one. Again, the fear. Will they think it’s funny? Will I hear crickets when there should be laughter? Who chooses to read a post about shit anyway? Apparently, it was a good move.
I acted a fool with Dr. Goddess after a bartender professed his love for me through tequila.
I was mistaken twice for Issa Mas (because we’re brown and curly headed and I have a lot of ass. What?).
I called Issa Rae an awkward black girl.
Amy (amalah.com) recognized me. Let me stop here a minute and explain what this feels like. You read someone’s blog for years. You love it. You love her writing, her humor, her what kind of syrup did you drink to make boys that cute kids. You finally stop lurking and leave comments pretty regularly. You have no idea that she thinks your comments are funny or that you “bring it” every time you leave a comment. You are vaguely aware that she follows you on Twitter and Instagram, but you’ve never considered the possibility that she’s read your blog or knows your avatar well enough to recognize you in a semi-dark party near a robot unicorn cake. You think her following you is obligatory, not something she has purposely done because she HOLY SHIT THE REALIZATION likes you. You shut down when she starts talking because no. No, she is mistaken. Yes, you are who she thinks you are but she can’t possibly think you are who you are because you are just you and she is her and YOU like HER and OMG not the other way around and I’ma just walk away now, okay cute red headed white lady smiling like you like me? Then you sit at a table and lament the fact that you have let someone you genuinely wanted to meet think you are a flake. Or drunk. Possibly high. You send her a direct message on Twitter apologizing and she runs back over because she was just right behind you. And then you cry because Carrie’s mom’s voice that you’ve been hearing for weeks leading up to the conference was wrong: they aren’t all gonna laugh at you.
Comments work, y’all. She was the third person to say I leave memorable comments. Not long ago I decried other bloggers’ messages to me about how they love my comments. I want to be known for my writing, dammit! And then it hit me: I’m writing the comments. I am thoughtful and compassionate and sometimes funny. People remember that. They remember me. I’ll take it.
Deborah of Mannahattamamma found me and I screamed in her face (with delight, not like damn! back up off me).
I met Amanda from Parenting by Dummies (finally!). I am in love with her third son and intend to have another daughter just to betroth to him.
I ran into SocaMomDC, who I’d met earlier in the year at Blogging While Brown.
Tracy humped my leg.
Leslie may have groped my bootyliciousness. Or not. She can’t remember.
Saturday
I had lunch with Katie Couric (see “lunch” definition with Martha Stewart above. God, you are so determined to kill my joy). Katie has a new show this fall as well. She is such a motivational, determined, intelligent woman.
I almost had lunch with Soledad O’Brien, Christy Turlington, and Malaak Compton-Rock. But, Malaak was, um, challenging to listen to. I believe it was just stage fright (though she’s been interviewed before; what made this time different?), but my embarrassment for her overpowered my love of Soledad and my desire to learn about Christy and Malaak’s philanthropic efforts. I left as Soledad was trying to coax Malaak into being able to complete a coherent sentence.
The first BlogHer fashion show was nothing short of magical: beautiful gowns, flawless, confident women, and dogs!
* * * *
I’d read so many pre-BlogHer posts on what to wear, what to expect, what not to do, that I didn’t have specific goals in mind. I knew it would be overwhelming, but as a newbie, the thoughts you conjure do not do justice to the sheer amount of THIS IS HUGE. I went into the conference expecting to connect in person with bloggers I follow, want to follow, should follow. I expected to exchange business cards with women who don’t blog but want to, women who don’t blog and have no intention of starting, and to talk about missing my children. I expected to walk the streets of New York (which I did many times). I got exactly what I wanted, needed, and more. I got so much more. I did not, however, get a free vibrator from Trojan. I did get one from Lady Estrogen though, so I’m good. While I didn’t leave with much swag, I left with stuff I wanted and needed, like nail stickers for my girls, a Hot Wheels car for the boy, and toothpaste and Lysol tub and tile cleaner (that shit is expensive, yo! I took two).
Complaints? Sure. The session rooms were too small. But, I have no doubt that BlogHer will fix this in coming years. The wifi in the hotel rooms was $15 for 24 hours. I simply didn’t use it. So see? Even though I have two complaints (sure, I could bitch about slow elevators but come on, y’all, there were 5,000+ people in that hotel pissing off non-conference attendees who were just trying to get to their rooms and were tired of seeing our damn badges everywhere), they barely even register on the scale of awesome that is this conference.
I cannot explain to you what this conference did for me, for my self esteem. It is amazing what other people can do for you. Sure, I should be confident enough to know my own level of awesome without needing external confirmation. But having others who have no vested interest in your feelings tell you without provocation that your writing is meaningful, thought provoking, and/or funny? Yeah. If it were crack, I’d be strung out.
Sunday
I left the hotel with a tickle in my throat, the realization that a cold was coming on. All the hugging and hand shaking was like daycare: new germs! New germs! Attack! I walked to the nearest convenience store and bought a box of DayQuil. By Monday morning I was fully ensconced in the BlogHer flu. Over a week later, I still have a nasty cough (I call it the consumption), but I’m also still so high off of emails and tweets that I truly refuse to complain.
BlogHer ’13 is in Chicago. I have a whole year to prepare and still show up unprepared for what I know will be an even better year. I’ll bring the Airborne.
It was my pleasure! Sorry I was way drunk and burnt out by the time you found my sorry ass. Haha
I had no idea you lived here. I do, too.
I read in the first VOTY way back when, and it changed my life. The people I read with are some of my closest friends and writing mentors still, including Polly. You had me at attention from the moment you walked out on that stage. You gave me my VOTY experience, by giving voice to what you read. Thank you.
I am so glad for this:
“I cannot explain to you what this conference did for me, for my self esteem. It is amazing what other people can do for you. Sure, I should be confident enough to know my own level of awesome without needing external confirmation. But having others who have no vested interest in your feelings tell you without provocation that your writing is meaningful, thought provoking, and/or funny? Yeah. If it were crack, I’d be strung out.”
That is what it is supposed to do, at its best, and you are just the kind of person who it is supposed to do that for. If I can ever buy you a cup of coffee and talk blogging with you here at home, just yell. I’d be honored.
I’m sorta jealous you met Amalah (Amy? I’m such a lurker I;m not even sure what I should call her because we’re not at all on “real name” basis). And I’m super mad we didn’t take a photo together. What. Is. Wrong with me? I was so lazy about busting out my camera this year. Not sure how I missed SocaMom. And I love Ananda, lucky you that you got to room with her! I told Mimi I met you. She asked me a bazillion questions about the real you. I told her you were pretty and tall and way more popular in real life than I am. She said she knew that last part already for sure (that woman will not accept that I am cool!). Hope to see you at something again soon. So we can take a photo together. And talk, A LOT!
If you room with me in Chicago I’ll do so much more than just hump your leg. You’re welcome.
So glad that I had a chance to see you, and finally connect in person. You absolutely deserve all of those wonderful BlogHer moments!
You were magnificent at both readings. Truly.
The ‘You’re Welcome’ Post? Funniest. Shit. Ever. Pun intended. I also enjoyed the post you read for the VOTY. You’re awesome. And real. and I love it! You spoke my language (I pissed myself in Bulk barn while projectile vomiting in line at the cash. I told the world about it. pregnancy joys!)
Keep writing! I’ve just discovered you, and look forward reading what may come :)
Cheers from Canada
Angele
This is YOUR life, and you DO leave the most memorable comments AND we do feel how you do it out of love. Not for any gain.
We, out here, can tell that you read blogs, get strength from them, spend time in our archives, reach out to us with the hope that we connect.
We can tell that you depend on us, as much as we depend on you.
When someone blogs for the love of the connection, we can tell.
You are very special, A. I am proud that you feel it and that you know how lovable you are.
Thank you for loving on us, making us feel as good as we make you feel.
When it works that way, and both sides feel it, lemme tell you: it is your life line.
Love you, lady. May this new blogging year bring even MORE awesome into your life.
You put yourself out there, and it can be a shaky world. We are all here for you.
Writing on my phone but I couldn’t wait – seeing you in person was wonderful. Truly. You were one of my HAVE TO meets & I’m so glad I did.
Never discount ANY of your writing. That you are so engaging with your comments means the world to all who read them. That you are so heart wrenching and hilarious with your posts shows what you are capable of – and that you are a force to be reckoned with.
Chicago, bitches.
Xoxoxo
Looks like you had a blast but I had no doubt in that! You are also like the 10th person I heard got sick. Maybe BlogHer should give out face masks and latex gloves in their welcome bags. ;-)
Glad you are feeling better and riding high from the BlogHer love!
I would have really loved to hear your Voices of the Year reading and certainly I would have loved to meet you and really talk to you.
I always look forward to your comments. Always.
Thank you, Angie. I’ll see you next year in Chicago, yes?
Thanks for the love! You made my BlogHer12 experience AWESOME. So glad we roomed together. Will send you photos this week. Hugs, Ananda
I saw you speak both times, and I’ve already told you this but I’ll tell you again, You.Were.Amazing! Honestly and for real. I hope you go again next year so that I can actually meet you in person.
And OMG the sickness. I had it too. David called it the “New York Suck.” I think that was appropriate. We can mix it in our tequila (because Lord knows those bartenders at the Hilton had no idea how to serve it).
Oh, I’m going, Jennifer, there’s no doubt about that. I would love to actually meet you. I’m pretty sure we were in one of the same sessions, but I was way back in a corner, not enough time to manage the crowd when we left.
Lady, I totally fangirled over you. BOOM.
It was soooo great to meet you. I’m sorry I was all ZOMG SPASTIC at you. Kinda what I do, I guess.
PS Lovvve you!
I don’t even know why I’m bothering to type a reply because my head is still ‘pon the desk and this is probably incoherent. But thank you. Also, I loves you more.
DUDE, I can’t believe Amalah fangirled you at BlogHer and just fangirled you again in the comments! That’s fantastic!
I loved your reading and kept thinking I should say hi when I passed you in the hall a few times after that, but you know how it is when you’re swept up in the whirlwind and the crowds. You were amazing, your reading made me cry. (I know it’s a low bar for me and tears, but still!)
One of the things I learned at BlogHer? A memorable blog name goes a long way. People recognized it if they’d read before or it stuck with them if they hadn’t.
Glad you had a great time. I did, too.
YOU READ THAT TOO, RIGHT. I’m glad you had a good time, Jessica. You should have said hi; I’d have stopped. Going next year?
You utterly read that post as though you had won a Pulitzer, and then you followed it up with the Listen to Your Mother reading as though you owned the whole room. Which you did. I have been quoting you and trying to get your delivery down to several friends since. So happy our paths have crossed, and I look forward to having a drink with you in Chicago.
I am there, Susan. To think I have to wait a whole year is almost unbearable. And thank you. Your words had me in tears and I’ve reread that post about your friend a few times because it’s just so beautiful and real.
I knew you would rock that conference! I just knew it!
You DO leave the best comments! And, you read SUPER memorable, incredibly-written, beautifully-voiced VOTY posts. Damn. You’re actually putting the rest of us to shame now that I think about it!
Still can’t believe I didn’t get to wrap my arms around you and give you a squeeze. We have a date in Chicago. Handle it up!
I have read about BlogHer for the last two years, never heard about it before. Last year I pretty much thought everyone was nuts. I hate crowds and BlogHer seems to be filled with crowds. Then I have been reading post on the most recent BlogHer, and even though the crowds still intimidate me, there seems to be a lot of useful tools that come out of it. MAYBE I will be ready for BlogHer 2014.
There are crowds, Jennifer, but you basically just say screw ‘em and hang out with a handful of people if you want. BlogHer is what you make it. If you go with one other person or meet someone there, you’re good. There are LOTS of useful tools and the women you’ll meet will inspire you to write better, more often, and enjoy dancing at the same time (well, not the same time as writing, but I’m pretty sure someone out there knows how to handle those two simultaneously).
I’m So jealous! But So proud too! :)
I’m so glad I got the chance to tell you in person at the Sparklecorn party how fantastic I thought your reading at Voices was! You are the real deal. I ripped open that free package of tissues that had been sitting on the table, when you read. Hope I see you next year in Chicago!
I am so glad you spoke to me. You made my first BlogHer experience that much better because of that.
didn’t know fangirled was a verb but now i know that it is, so i’m fangirling you all over. brilliant readings (both of ‘em) and fantastic clothes. killer combination, Arnebya. I too learned that comments matter – I had a similar experience with another blogger, who I figured would never, ever know me from Eve – and she knew me, and my story, and the whole thing. Flattered beyond belief is what I was. And it’s your comments that brought me to your blog, and to you, and your writing. So here’s to Chicago in 13. See you there.
I am definitely there. It’s really a year away? Really? And fangirled is totally a verb. I think I’m still giddy.
I loved your wrap up and am sad I didn’t run into you at BlogHer. As one of those girls who reads your blog and follows you in twitter it would have been an honor!
I feel the same way, Mindi. I kept thinking I saw you at the Delaware rest stop but convinced myself I was crazy. Besides, it’s not really acceptable to stop someone in the restroom to ask if she’s who you think she is, right?