Results tagged "BlogHer"

BlogHer 2011 is in San Diego this August…

And I can feel it… the shaking heads of disapproval combined with the “What?” and the “Did she say?”… When really I’m just quoting The Legend of Ron Burgundy… “San Diego. Drink it in, it always goes down smooth.”… And no… despite what many of you may think… my fingers did not ignite into flames upon typing the word vagina… although I may have to overload my head with conditioner to relieve the rat’s nest that is slowly entwining on my head… you know, with the good conditioner. Because that’s all it takes for a movie line to be burned on my brain…. That and years of avoiding bad humor repetition. Some lines will just never go away…  “I’m sorry, I was trying to impress you. I don’t know what it means. I’ll be honest, I don’t think anyone knows what it means anymore. Scholars maintain that the translation was lost hundreds of years ago.”

I was a fool at the BlogHer 2010 conference…. I went, I curmudgeoned it’s existence while enjoying every minute of my friends — AND I should have stayed in the city — released my inner need to hang. But the call of the 2 year old was too much and I disappeared before dark.  Now look at me. (choking with cheshire cat laughter)  So… what’s to come of this year? More fun… and a smaller show, I suspect — NYC being the hub of ALL — despite August and all of its sweaty attractions… I have never been to San Diego — and I really want to go. Time will tell, at this point… in August — I will have a babe of 4 to 5 months hanging off of me like a Koala… As if my addiction to Will wasn’t enough this past year, how am I supposed to leave and fly ACROSS THE COUNTRY, without the newborn? And whatever… I don’t even want to go to the real conference — with fake vodka drinkers and potato heads — I just want to go play with my friends… IS THAT SO WRONG? And, while planning the trip now seems nearly impossible, am I as selfish as I think I am for already thinking about going?… “Last time I looked in the dictionary, my name’s Ron Burgundy. What’s your name?”

I suppose I could bring the babe… but as I think of that scenario, I remember seeing Moms with infants at last year’s show… chilled in the air conditioner with tired looks on their faces. What were they thinking? And you just know I’d end up being the Mom with the Baby — IN A BAR. I mean really. I have to stop thinking about it before my brain packs up and leaves for more preferential accommodations… in San Diego.

So while I’m sitting here… in 7 degree weather, waiting for all things inevitable while trying to think of my own creative one-liners… I can at least start to think about San Diego, right? Because you’re going  — and you are — and someone is sponsoring that other person to go… and no one will notice if I just show up and crash the party, right? Because I only had a little taste of last year’s event… “I don’t know how to put this, but I’m kind of a big deal.”

A year ago yesterday I wrote this post about not going… now all I want is to GO. You may as well plug your ears and start heading in the other direction, because I’m about to whine and stomp for the next 7-8 months… thinking of good alternatives like “BlogThis” or BlogMe”.. “JustGoBlogYourself”  — Labor Day, Southampton.. — Realists need not apply. “Go fuck yourself, San Diego.”

So last week when I posted about the new year and moving on, I took a tone.

I know. What was I thinking? Obviously I had my head stuck up my dead Christmas tree.

Because there really wasn’t a reason to take such a cryptic and ominous tone about making changes to better oneself. In fact, I think that anything that one can do to make him/herself feel better about life is a move in the right direction. For example, a few years ago a dear friend asked me if I would frown upon the idea of her getting a little reconstructive surgery. This is the same friend that, in college, always seemed to catch me making out with someone in our kitchen. You know, what with the kitchen being so sexy and innocent at the same time… it was right before I would invite people up to see my etchings… which is perhaps the worst art student joke on the planet…  Anyhow… (sorry dad), having lived through various indiscretions, I appreciated her trusting me with such a concern. And of course I was supportive, even though I didn’t see the need for the change in question — she wanted to feel better about herself… And this made it, BY ALL MEANS, acceptable. And never mind who I was making out with… let’s stick to the point here, people.

And the POINT, which I swear I will get to in three paragraphs or less, is that feeling good about yourself ALL THE TIME is really really hard. So hard, in fact, that the powers that be (the Kennedys, Mother Nature, Andy Warhol, Angelina Jolie, and of course ‘The Colonel with his wee beady eyes’) have made feeling 100% good all the time practically impossible. Which has made us a generation of constant change. Which is exhausting. Which is why I lied, and resolutions are good — ALL OF THEM. And while I was making it sound all “I’m too good for improvement”, because that’s how I’m now analyzing it, the truth is quite the opposite.

So, I’m starting with my habits. Not the ones that are a current necessity — obscene amounts of grapefruit paired with enough lemon seltzer water that I could float to Tahiti… because, wouldn’t that be nice? No – I’m starting with my reading habits… both online and in the Real World… In an effort to get started, I finally taught myself how to appreciate my Google Reader, where I now stay as updated as possible on all things BLOG as well as other fun stuff… Occasionally I’ll share, so if you’re all “I have nothing to do, let’s see what Ryan’s reading”, please — stop by.

As far as the Real World goes, I’ve decided to add more books to my daily intake, and although this first reading list looks a little “Self-Help”, which I’m sure I’m in need of, the choices were made for several other reasons…

1. Soul Pancake, by Rainn Wilson (aka Dwight Schrute):
   I bought this book for my sister Kate for Christmas and before handing it over I couldn’t put it down… although I was careful not to break the bind in flipping through it… Once the gift was given, I missed it. Something about the creative layout and the insightful chapter introductions… At any rate, I was having fun with it and therefore went right out and bought my own. Soul Pancake also has a Dooce-esche“community” website (Dooce happens to be a contributor — coincidence? I think… not). These community/minor celebrity things always remind me of communal living… I mean who leads and who follows? Dooce or Dwight Schrute, I mean Rainn Wilson? Are Dooce and Dwight living together? In Pennsylvania? And who really cares? And whatever — the book makes me smile, and so does Dooce.. and Dwight… so stick it.
2. The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin:
   I know Gretchen Rubin, and for this reason, I am reading this book.
   And when I say I “know” her, I don’t mean it in the BFF — I call her twice a week, “we’ve known each other for years” kind of way. No. What I mean is that I’ve been reading her blog ever since I started reading blogs… like an addiction. And then there was the time that we hung out. And when I say “hung out” I mean that I pounced on her at BlogHer with my no holds barred refinement and blurted out.. “I love your Blog”. At which point I slunk back into the crowds repeating “there is too much pepper on my paprikash” until I could regain my composure. But that isn’t even it…. I don’t always love her blog, even though she now KNOWS that I do… sometimes I downright dislike it… but whatever. She wrote a book about something she set out to do and I admire that…And aside from the fact that we know each other, her book may be bunk — but let’s give it a go, shall we?
3. The Thirteenth Tale, by Diane Setterfield:
   I joined a book club.
   There, I said it.

So… that’s it. That’s the start. There are other things I’m working on too… like my career, my health… my overall existence… which pretty much rings completely hypocritical with my post last week. 2011 has a lot of possibilities… which a good friend recently pointed out that I, in so many words, had pointed out a few months ago. I’m excited about this. The possibilities… not the fact that I lied about my New Year intentions, OR that I had forgotten such a lovely thought — which originally was NOT mine to begin with (as I stamp a disclaimer on all things my son says from here on out)… Would it be too cliché to end this with a Ferris quote? “Life moves…”, Oh what the hell, this post is long enough….

Is there anything to gain from being fake?

I mean, I get it. You are a brand. You believe in the gimmick. You really do wear tutus all the time. You didn’t dye your hair neon pink for any other reason than to be noticed…  And, although we know you couldn’t help yourself, you decided to stand up and announce that you’re not a blogger… at a blogging conference. Do it. It’s fine. There is a fine line between absurd and obnoxious… but what the hell, we might be boobs, but we’re also adults — GO WITH IT. Because… although no one at BlogHer 2010 was really there to pay any attention to you… you made them do it anyway. I mean WHO do we think we are? Just a bunch of Hoo Haas hoping to glean a little knowledge from others that may or may not know what they are talking about? And, I mean, the schtick might be funny… but say it one more time, and I might just take your tagline and smother you with it. Because if blogging wasn’t the topic of choice at BlogHer 2010 — being fake was a definite runner up… a bunch of bloggers (among some great bloggers, mind you) trying to get other bloggers to read their blogs… let alone the general public (hi there public, I love you!) And, while I am considering how to handle this delicate egg of a situation, its occurring to me that one teeny tiny incident needs to be addressed.

I met some amazing people at BlogHer, there is absolutely no question about that… people that I have been connecting with for months… Like minded thinkers, life partners, accomplices… That… Okay granted, I just met on Friday… But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? — Right? And when I was all juiced up and giddy about having met these awesome people, that really turned out to be people… Another person that knows me through the internet… who happens to be internet-loved by many and someone that I’ve collaborated with recently, someone that I’ve…And boom. Crash. “I think I know you”, taking my card as I explained who I am and how she knows me, not looking me in the eye, grasping the ever distracting cell phone, backing away… Knowing exactly who I was and, although I might be a deranged lunatic with my tongue hanging out of my nose, I was snubbed. Shot Down. Ignored. WHAT JUST HAPPENED? Did the conference room just sprout lockers and a gym teacher named Rose? Because if I’m not mistaken, 10th grade just started ALL OVER AGAIN… And as she walked to the table at the front of the room with the other panel speakers, I thought… Huh, she just did that. She did that knowingly and on purpose. And immediately, she was exposed. I then sucked my tongue back into my mouth and cartwheeled out of the room.

Later on that day my friends and I huddled together discussing the situation while a woman behind us twisted her neck in the most unusual ways in an attempt to eavesdrop. Aside from the subject not knowing much about public speaking… did she know what she had just done? Maybe it was nerves, because yes. I am THAT INTIMIDATING. Perhaps not. Maybe. Yes. No. It’s possible.. But before over-analyzing, and since we were finished braiding each others hair… we moved on to more important experiments… like holding a sex toy close to me to see what would happen… because don’t all writing conferences hand out free sex toys? We then went back to snarling and growling about other topics like lactation rooms, while I beamed with pride over the honesty being displayed.

And what happens to someone that goes from being one individual on the internet to another person in real life? From being the man behind the curtain to the lady that really likes to write her website address all over her own cleavage? Do they actually believe themselves? And if so, how long do they think that we will continue to buy it? I’m holding it out there for you to answer… because while I was hoping for a group hug of Bloggers of the World Unite, I now have to wonder how genuine the typing is until I meet you face to face…

I’m not a few other things too, but I thought I’d start with the obvious…

I find it interesting that although I’m not a writer and tend to read 30 things at the same time, that I find the time to bother the internet with my almost daily observations… And when I say, ‘FIND TIME’, I mean that I lunge for it… like its the only scoop of edamame salad left in the deli case… or the only fresh head of locally grown BIB… or the last remaining, almost ripe avocado on display… And SO WHAT if I’m obsessed with fresh foods and salads? I’m not a farmer OR a produce expert either, but I can damn near TRY, and WHO doesn’t love organic?! But did you know that I can write several paragraphs without ever even considering punctuation? That it is totally and completely unethical among all of those invested in RULES that obsessively practice GRAMMAR ?!?! Boo Hiss Boo… And who do I think I am? Well.. I’m not sure, actually — but I do know that I can type pretty gosh-darn fast without realizing that 2 1/2 hours of my day have been sucked up by the blogosphere… only to be read by some if not shunned by others for the annihilated words that I am forcing down everyone’s throats… one misplaced apostrophe at a time. And I know, we can pull out the swords and dual over writing vs. blogging, but to what end when the result lies in originality via the “written” word. Blogging allows for immediate interaction, personality, SPUNK… and while I’ve never tried to write an essay for the hell of it… I can only imagine my disappointment in not saying it all A LITTLE BIT LOUDER.  Not to mention that I find some sort of comfort here… in writing about delusions, whatnots and boondocks… And yes, just in case you are wondering, I am aware that I am doing it wrong… And, considering that I am surrounded by highly educated individuals… some of which are writers themselves and are overwhelmingly powerful when it comes to VERSE and the almighty SNARK, I really should CARE about the fact that I’m doing it wrong… But I don’t. I don’t care.

I don’t care that I’m not a writer but I’m doing it anyway… And just to prove this fact to myself and everyone else out there that gives two cents, I have invested in myself and will be attending the 2010 BlogHer conference this Friday and Saturday. And I know, who am I kidding…. Me, who hides here, typing away… loving the internet because it allows me to make connections without having to talk to anyone.. I’m actually going to get up, leave this seat and join thousands of other bloggers in New York City… if only to see if I can feel like I’m doing something. If only to attempt to embrace exactly what the hell this thing is that I’ve gotten myself into… If only to finally meet a few individuals face to face (finally) and to find some rational explanation for how and why they find themselves here… with me, but not really. And while I’m there, and before I freeze into a solid block of introverted, overly air-conditioned ice, I do hope to bustle some sense out of all of this… Because time here is too comforting to be considered wasteful, and I never like to throw anything away.

So, while this may be my only post this week as I attempt to wiggle my flip flop addicted feet into the shoes that are currently comfortable, I just want to let it be known that I am fully aware. That although I took a few English classes — I do not have a license  to drive. That my skills in typing and knowledge of design software and editing tools does not a writer make… I’m also aware of what a bad dancer I am, that I can’t parallel park for my life AND that acting like you know something when you really don’t only works when you make yourself believe it first [case-in-point]. And finally, in summing it up because I can totally hear you backing away… When we meet, please don’t mistake my poker face for snobbery… I’m not silently judging you and I barely know how to play Go Fish…  All that’s happening is void, and I’m totally aware of it.

Oh and while we were busy fanning ourselves… We also made Pesto more popular. TODAY.  Yeah, that’s right — stick that in your English Lit. pipe and…

Blogher 2010 is only weeks away.
Okay, so maybe months. But what is the harm in PREPARING? Are you going? What are you wearing? Are you hosting something? How will I find you? And – is there anything else I should know before we meet? If so, let me know — because I’ve decided to set aside a little time to find out more. Tell one, tell all. Let’s JUST KNOW so that we don’t waste precious time FINDING OUT. What do you think? Not going? Well – I’d still like to know. So tell. Spill. Dish. GO.

It all used to be so easy… if I didn’t want to go, I wouldn’t. If I wanted to go, sometimes I still wouldn’t. I guess that’s the problem with being a pseudo-introvert… That writes a very public account of everything–hypocrisy is SO much fun.

But today is Saturday, so no one is reading this, right? I can just sneak this in and whisper softly… because nothing has changed.

And I’m just using this visual because Sting called me and told me to write about my insecurity issues.

It remains the same.. if I have a meeting, I wait until the very last second thinking about how much I don’t want to go even though it will be painless and probably result in good things… How I am invited to parties and events and asked to be in on important causes… and I don’t participate and/or attend even though I want to and plan on it. How I am rather well connected but refuse to admit it. It isn’t unlike 13 years ago (dear god!) in college when I adopted the mantra of “Just Don’t Go” and would suggest it to friends… like it was THAT easy. You don’t want to go, so don’t. It was all very freeing and simple… Just Don’t Go. I remember thinking it when I was about to walk down the aisle… when I went into labor with Will, when all of the great things that have happened to me occurred… And look at me now.. I am already climbing over the fence… Running away… Hiding under my dining room table… In other words, I just bought my tickets to Blogher 2010, which is in August. And the fact that I just spent actual dollars might be the only thing that pushes me through the door. That and the idea of meeting some of you… FACE TO FACE. EYES TO EYES. So… if you are going… and you happen to glance out windows of the NYC Hilton and you see someone outside pasted up against the glass –  just leave me there and note that I went, but I didn’t at the same time. Let the games begin.