BlogHer or Bust!

Blogher Here I Come!

Guess what time it is?! It’s time to pack up and go to BlogHer!!! Wooo Hooo! This is my first time. I’m a “blogher virgin.” Oooooh. Scary. I know everyone is probably sick of hearing about blogher this and blogher that…and I’m sorry to be yet another mouth spouting off but I have to write just a few things because I’m a tiny bit nervous.

However, unlike everyone else, I do not have any social anxiety disorders. Wow. Can you believe it? Three cheers for not needing meds! (Or three cheers for denial, either one.) I’m actually pretty good at small talk and I’m super-excited to be in the middle of a big noisy crowd! If there is really good music at the parties, I might even bust a move. I can’t promise that I’ll be a good dancer. I might smack you with my flailing “butterfly arms” but I’m not shy, usually. (Is there even going to be music at the blogher parties?)

Of course there was that one time ages and ages ago when I went bowling with the after-work crowd and I started getting really insecure when all the Hottie McHotties of the office showed up with their own engraved bowling balls and matching team shirts. And yes, I sort of um…snuck off and hid in some long dark maroon-carpeted hallway until the cops came looking for me. That was a bad moment for me.

But I’ve moved way way way past that. That was like fifty million years ago.

I think the hardest thing for me now in social situations is just not talking loud enough. I have a really soft voice that sounds loud in my head. You hear mouse squeaks and think I’m shy and demure but in my head I am shouting like a big attention-seeking maniac. It’s really hard for me to project for some stupid reason. So sometimes I just don’t talk at all because no one can ever hear me.

The other thing I’m worried about is that there are soooooooo many people I want to meet! I think I’m going to go crazy! I’m going to be that social butterfly whom everyone hates because she yappity-yaps so much and is distracted all the time. “Hey look there’s so-and-so gotta run!” I hate that. I’m going to try really hard to listen well and not explode from over-excitement.

The other thing I’m afraid of is that I’m going to blank on people’s names. Some of you comment every day and you really are a huge part of my life but I’m scared that when I meet you in person (and you better introduce yourself to me because I do want to meet you!!!) my brain hard drive is going to get stuck on search mode, trying to remember who you are, and I might crash and have to be re-booted.

That is one thing I really am ashamed of on this site. The fact that I don’t emotionally invest myself in my readers as much as you do in me. It’s all I can do to put a post together a few times a week and check on my family’s many many blogs. I try to get out and about to read your blogs but often I do not. I’m always getting surprised when I find out someone is moving all the way across the country or they just had a baby and I had no clue even though they had been writing about it for half a year.

I want to apologize for that. It’s something that I’ve thought about a lot and a choice I have made to keep my sanity. Maybe someday when Baby Bug is in school I’ll be a better blog-reader and commenter but for now I’m mostly just a one-sided blogger. So feel free to slap me upside the head when you meet me in person. I deserve it.

There you have it! I can’t wait to meet everybody. If you’re going to be there, please introduce yourself in the comments so I can study up and not be such an idiot.

A word about the illustration…I had this daydream that if I had a GIANT yellow bag I would feel less insecure about myself because you all would be dazzled by my bag. Just think of how handy it would be in photos. Everyone would say, oh there’s SAJ and her giant yellow bag! But sadly, I do not have a giant yellow bag. So it’ll just have to be in my imagination. I guess I could steal one from Ikea but I don’t want to do that and besides those bags are noisy and crinkly. I’ll survive. I’m tough.

Also, I’ll have my trusty sidekick cc with me.

un-censored ramblings I’ll probably wish I didn’t write

hedge for short

I’m so tempted to type, “I got nuthin'” and end it at that. But then I’d have to clock myself over the head with this big cardboard box I keep my laptop in because I’m the girl who proclaims loudly that she NEVER ever gets writer’s block. Oh no, not me!

That would be like the time I took a car truck ride with that really cute boy I was sort of dating during college and we drove the whole way to Costco (which was in the next town over) and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say the entire hour it took to get there. That was so terrible. How could I not think of a single thing to talk about?!!! I always have something to talk about. I’m the queen of making lively conversation. I’m a journalism major. I’m trained to ask the hard questions. What was my problem!!! I don’t know. It was something about being obsessed about having bad breath. Even after all these years I don’t like to think about that guy.

Today is not quite that bad. It’s not that I can’t think of something to type. I could ramble on for days… it’s that I’m thinking about my audience. Who reads this? What can I type that I won’t regret when some long distant relative googles their last name and this post comes up because we happen to share the same six letters in our name.

Isn’t it funny how you always think of one person or another when you’re typing a blog post? Don’t you? I do. I often think about my father-in-law. (Hi George!) I don’t know if he reads this blog every day or not but I know he does sometimes and that sort of keeps me on my toes and quiet on some things.

Not that I have secrets but I just don’t want to blab about stupid things. He comes here to read about his grand-daughter. I want to show him that I’m a good daughter-in-law and show off all the crafts we do together or whatever… I just sort of feel like I have this reputation I have to uphold. Which is really silly since of all people, my father-in-law would probably love a rollicking good story about how this one artist (who I found out later is really famous) once asked me to pose nude for him.

Yeah, I never wrote about that before. But then I start thinking about my Aunt Kathy, who I adore, but would probably NOT want to read about her niece posing nude. Well, rest assured, Aunt Kathy. I never did pose nude. I guess I had some sense in me back then. But sometimes now, when I see this famous artist’s work, I sort of wish I did. Because how cool would that be to see yourself in some gallery and know that you were part of something historical. Plus, I sort of wish I had documented the body I had back then that is now falling down around my hips like bread dough.

Ugh! Shudder! Shudder! Shake that thought!!! See! This is why I don’t let myself type willy nilly regularly. There is always something there to write about, it’s just not always something best to be read.

So anyway! What’s new pussycat? Want to hear about our latest potty-training endeavors? Do you ever find yourself dumping the pee water from the small baby toilet into the big toilet and then washing said baby toilet in the sink and wonder what has become of your life? Washing pee? I’m not really complaining. I’m so proud of my “Big Girl” it’s just that I never really realized that my days would be filled with chores like this. I guess I thought there would be more martini drinking and wearing of frilly aprons or something.

Speaking of aprons! I cannot end this post without a shout out to my sister-in-law and her shop! Check her out! She is single-handedly supporting herself and her addiction to the dollar-bin at Target! Wooo Hoo! You go girl! (Psssssssst! She’s giving away an apron on her site and she may or may not forget to close the comments before you get there.)

While we’re on the subject of supporting habits, I wanted to let you all know that my sister-in-law and my mom and my nieces and Baby Bug are all planning a trip to Blogher in July! ROAD TRIP!!!! Of course we are all broke so we need to drum up some funds so we can afford to stay at fancy princess hotels while we trudge our way up there with six people in one gas-guzzler car. That means you can stay tuned for some kind of crazy self-promotion fund raiser stunt going on here at this site as soon as I think something brilliant up. Or we could just stay at Motel 6. Which might happen, depending on my slacker-dom.