Archive for the 'BlogHer' Category

If I’m not here…(Volume: VIII)

October 3, 2008 | Filed under: BlogHer, If I'm not here...

“Without enough sleep, we all become tall two-year-olds.”  ~JoJo Jensen

About two weeks ago I fell asleep in my office. I woke up drooling and noticed it had only been 30 minutes but it seemed to be 30 minutes of some deep REM sleep. The following day it happened again. I fell asleep sitting at my desk and woke up leaning way back and sunk down in my chair. The way my body was contorted it was as if I’d been trying to get deeper under the (nonexistent) covers. I’m a snuggler you see. One of those people who likes to get all up in someones space while sleeping just to feel warm and close to another person.

Anyway after two days of siestas of which I am a big fan, don’t get me wrong. I lived in Spain for six months; I took advantage of filling up my belly with tortilla and then burrowing under my blankets for 45 minutes of sweet blissful sleep. But in these here United States of America napping during the day when one is over the age of five is generally frowned upon. Napping while over the age of five and someone is paying you well over minimum wage to be sitting upright and working is grounds for a verbal bitchslapping. So these two days passed and even after the naps I felt groggy. I actually felt perpetually groggy like there was mud sloshing through my skull as opposed to actual brain matter.

It wasn’t until Tuesday - after four days in DC - when I realized how god damn tired I was. Not like slightly tired with an occasional yawn thrown in for good measure but like holding up my head was work and body movements were feats accomplished without being full conscious. I walked all over the office exclaiming how fucking tired I was and that I was going to die of exhaustion despite 8 solid hours of Lithium filled sleep. Wednesday I had a Drs. appointment for monthly blood work and I threw in the whole BUT I’M SOOOO TIIIIIIIREEEED whine with sad, sad eyes for good measure. I was asked about my regular activities like how I go to work for eight or nine hours and then come home and write but if I’m not home I’m usually away for work and remember that time I was a mile high and then came home and went away again? Whoo boy! That was good (drunken) fun! Then I went on and on and on about my summer. At the end I took a deep breath and waited to find out what was wrong with me. Why was I SOOOO TIIIIIIIREEEED all of the time? What with my constant movements and all? What could it be. I was diagnosed with something called “You’re tired and you need a nap, dumbass” and also anemia (which I’ve always had, but that’s less exciting then TAKE A FUCKING NAP). It’s like I’ve spent the last five months screwing myself and having a generally swell time but without the pleasant after effects.

On Wednesday I watched Gossip Girl for four hours, Made of Honor, No Country for Old Men and napped for two hours and awoke to five piles of dog vomit in my living room but that’s ok! Because I took a fucking nap.

Now I’m feeling right as rain and can function without having caffeine intake from an IV drip. All is well.

All that being said I still managed to accomplish something this week like writing. And hell, after Wednesday I actually started to ENJOY writing again because with a good nap, it didn’t feel so very painful to do. I could think freely without needing Wellies to slog through my brain. At MamaPop a review of Ghost Town. I laughed and cried - not just because of the exhaustion - through this movie. Loved it and it’s far better than that gag reflex inducing ‘film’ or ‘marketing machine’ known as Nights in Rodanthe. At BlogHer I’ve decided that we should ALL attend the Wharton School and get some basic lessons in finances and how they work. For the record: Credit? You still have to pay it. Crazy, right?

Also do you see that widget below? Look closely. I never ask y’all for anything and if I were to start doing so then I hope you hold stock in Mikimoto and JCrew. But if you know me in real life you know that there is literally nothing more important to me than public education. It’s a long and not very sordid story but I can make it a sordid story if you’d like, you know, for entertainment purposes only. Regardless BlogHer is taking part in a massive online fundraising effort called DonorsChoose. How it works is that public school teachers from around the country submit projects and we help them raise funds through DonorsChoose. I’m going to get all warm and heartfelt here and say that public school teachers don’t get enough props or money for what they do and this is a great way to help give these teachers but more importantly their students a leg up. So donate anything you can. A dollar even. And in return you get to know that you helped a child in public school and you get the bonus of having good karma and knowing that The Universe will have your back.

Just in time for vacation!

July 24, 2008 | Filed under: BlogHer, Inebriated prose

Updated: I think we all learned a very valuable lesson here; if you link to someone directly that person will end up finding your post. Even if it is innocuous and you’re speaking of someone with only the highest regard that person will find it and might not think of it the same way. I fucking hate blog drama. I mean it can be entertaining as hell but I, personally, don’t want to be involved. That said I don’t want to deal with people hurting my feelings because I look at blogging as my fun and safe space and I really just don’t want bullshit for myself or for anyone else. It’s really that simple. So Maria and I are fine and lovely and I’m sure she has great taste in footwear. See? Look. Love. Awww:

here was a paragraph here in which I attempted to express how starstruck  by Heather B. I was, but didn’t do it adequately, as it seems to have given others the impression that I was saying something negative about her. That was NOT my intention. In this case, she is my Dooce, and I am her The Bloggess. I would never post anything negative about another blogger, ever, and definitely not the one that I adore the most. Heather B., I am extremely, extremely sorry. I didn’t mean to lump you in with the ‘mean girls’ - I meant that you are such a big fuckin’ deal to me that I couldn’t work up the nerve to say hello, not that you gave off any sort of…anything bad at all, because you didn’t. You still are a very big deal to me. Hence this replacement paragraph. I am so embarrassed and I hope you’ll accept my apology.

I am still going on vacation (have you ever done three conferences in three weeks in three different cities? The fucking pain, y’all) because I have to see my mother and my best friend and people who in real life would say “Oh my God, Heather Barmore?! You want stories about Heather Barmore?? Oooh shit! Pull up a chair and relax a little because I have some stories for you”.

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I’m going on vacation next week. Saturday to be precise. And my god, I do have some impeccable timing for I seem to be a mean bitch and now that I’ve heard it from several different people, it’s practically certifiable. I’m thinking that this gem takes the prize for the most absurd thing about me. That is until someone calls me a right wing neo-con who loves ribs:

I didn’t work up the balls to go over and say hello to Heather B. She had, like, this force field around her that I thought I’d run smack into if I came too close. I was just not important enough to penetrate it I don’t think. And I’m pretty sure she gave me the death stare a few times. Although it could have been all in my head or in retaliation for the creepy, longing googly eyes I was probably giving her the entire weekend. *sigh* Next year. Maybe. Probably not. I’m not worthy.

Just wow. I’m going to drag my pretentious ass through NOLA and then to Martha’s Vineyard.

I’ll leave you with this conversation from this evening after tossing beads from a balcony on Bourbon Street:

Him: What’s your name?

Me: Heather

Him: Heather?!?! That’s a white girl’s name. I’ve never heard of a sister named Heather. Where are you from?

Me: Um, Upstate NY…

Him: Oh, Upstate NY, that’s where all those rich people live.

And gee, Louisiana, you’ve been swell. Thank you for aiding my self esteem. How much do I owe you for the free beer and random men who decided to flash me?

What We Believe: Blogging Community as a Healing Force (Live Blog)

July 23, 2008 | Filed under: BlogHer

(I live blogged a session as a favor. Hence the randomness of this post. But you really aren’t missing much as the theme of this site is about to turn into what I would say if I had a voice. It wouldn’t be pretty)

What We Believe: Blogging Community as Healing Force

Moderater: Susan Wagner Panelists: Flutter, Lovebabz, WhyMommy, Laurie Kingston

When I was asked to liveblog this session I said yes without having a clue as to who the panelists were or the meat of the topic. I said yes and in 15 minutes found myself in a room full of women passing out kleenex and thanking the makeup Gods for waterproof mascara. On the one hand I felt duped because nothing can bring one down like mothers with cancer or rape but in the end I found myself pleasantly surprised that these women were able to use their writing for good. There are so many stories about sites dedicated to hating another blogger or posts being written about how another is wrong in their personal life choices and because of a few bad apples, we often forget about those who have not only helped themselves but also others, with their words.

Flutter’s site had been a knitting blog had been using talk therapy to overcome a sexual assault that had happened at 13. She instead wanted a legible history of where/who she was now and where she was coming from as the events of her past had affected her present.

Lovebabz was awaiting sentencing for a white collar crime. At the same time her husband left her with four children and she was facing foreclosure. She started blogging to get it all out. She didn’t want to be all about whining but about how she chooses to live and love even in the face of all of this adversity. She continues to keep a good spin on things.

Laurie Kingston and Susan (aka WhyMommy) are both mothers living with cancer. Laurie was not a blogger before it all started but used blogging as a tool to explain her feelings as she was fighting this disease. She now has a book coming out. Susan was a ‘typical mommyblogger’ who was diagnosed with cancer right before she was supposed to attend the BlogHer conference last year. When she made her announcement thousands of other bloggers rallied around her after a fellow mommyblogger wrote a post about her cancer and then posted a blog badge to go along with it. Other bloggers read this post and added the badges to their site. People continue to add them each day and each time Susan is touched and helped in a way that couldn’t have been done without this community.

These women have done what they have and have been successful at it in that they have healed and found the good in themselves and each other. They all believe that we - as people - are all connected and that by using their words they are concsious of what they and others say and use writing to provoke thought and are ‘arbiters of careful speech’. They have all found that they can go to their individual blogs and write exactly how they feel at that moment. Whether it be 4 PM or 4 AM. It is agreed that there is a “community of people who want to be there for you…[but are] safe behind a computer screen”.

Susan says that blogging helps her to rely on people who aren’t there all the time in order give her partner or those close some space. I sit back and recall all of the times, especially as of late where I’ve just written something instead of regurgitating the same stories and issues to friends of mine. It isn’t that anyones friends or family are uncaring it’s just that it’s hard for them to have to deal with issues no matter how great, and have these issues piled upon them one after another.

Babz has found - and at times I couldn’t agree with this more - that people in the virtual world tend to be more forgiving.

Other points: There is a sense of community that you don’t get in face to face interactions because so often we put up a wall in public. It’s easier to pour your heart out online. (Both of which are so true that I found myself nodding right along)

Babz says: There are no perfect people. “I have to be my own superhero. I have to be the one that I love” and has used blogging to find that force within her.

An audience member asks: “How was the community of your blog helpful in getting you through…?”

The panel: Bloggers bringing healing to other people with what they’ve shared - by what you’re sharing you’re giving out as much as you have received from others in the community. Laurie and Susan agree with the helping yourself by helping others sentiment and through that they have harnessed another community called Mothers with Cancer which is a group blog by women and for women who have had or are currently living with cancer.

The conversation then moves to the use of other forms of blogging and community such as microblogging using Twitter. Susan says that she used twitter to let people know right when she was about to go under for her surgery and then when she came out from under anesthesia. She then asks the audience if there are other communities with the same healing force and while it seems that there might be one for victims of sexual abuse (and feel free to correct me if I’m wrong) it seems that the communities that these women have built for themselves have had a power like no other.

I should point out that while this session was going on the Naked Blogging session in which several good friends of mine (Tracey, Loralee) had to share painful stories of trolling and meanness that they have encountered via their blogs. And while this session may have been depressing as hell (mothers with cancer and crying, people. CRYING) it was still nice to bear witness to extreme kindness and thought that we often forget about in the blogher-sphere.

Reach

June 26, 2008 | Filed under: BlogHer, Blogology

“Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogether, then inarticulate, and then drunk. When we had reached the last step of this glorious ladder, it was difficult to get down again without stumbling.” ~George Gordon Byron

Two years ago I went to San Jose and had a terrible, awful, no good, very bad time. I admit to going and letting my neuroses and social anxiety get the better of me. It isn’t as if I went under duress but instead I went to BlogHer that year after much internal back and forth and thought about the many things that normally plague a person before plunging into a giant pool of something out of their comfort zone. As normal as it might have been for me to allow that anxiety to become all consuming and somewhat crippling, I regret having spent so much of that weekend wanting to just get the hell out. Not to mention purposefully shying away from others. Sure, I can put up a front like the best of them but a front can easily be shot down when faced with several hundred women and that feeling that they all know each other and are far superior in intelligence/looks/congeniality than you will ever be. P.S. I bet no one liked me either.

That I brought a hangover home as a souvenir from Chicago last year and that I flew to Okla-fucking-homa to spend additional time with women I had met the week before is a huge testament not only to my overall growth in personality but also that I am 90% sure that diving into the cesspool of my patented brand of social anxiety was worth it. Even though everyone hated me, or so I like to say. I look at it this way: Once you get through the butterflies that feel like prehistoric monarchs swooping through your belly and not knowing which way is up and questioning the scientific probability of how surrounding yourself with hundreds of women will affect your menstrual cycle and smiling on the outside while feeling wholly inadequate on the outside; once you get through all of that without dying from all the injustices caused by being forced to socialize in public, well it’s easy to pick yourself up and do it over again. Like other things; you do it the first time and it feels oh so very bone breaking painful but each time thereafter gets a little bit better.

At the time of publishing I still do not have a plane ticket to SFHo (a very long and complicated story that I like to call My Job). I am expected there in a few weeks and I seem to think that the plane ticket will fall out of the Heavens and land at my feet. A ticket along with free drink tickets so I can get the party started off right. I’m somewhere between not being able to get through the rest of the week without gently massaging my earlobes and trying to wrap my pea sized brain around the fact that I get to spend several days with many of my most favorite women on the planet. Not including Oprah that is.

I’ve been meaning to go through my list of what-ifs and what to do’s for BlogHer because I have been asked no less than twice a week about the who, what, where, when and why of the entire event. For the record I am not a BlogHer expert but someone who has attended twice and has managed not to keel over after being forced to have a conversation. And that is where my expertise ends. Here’s the deal; I think it’s easier to get advice about an event from someone who has been before but remains apprehensive. It’s hard not to, since you really never know what to expect so make no expectations. It is human behavior to be that odd hybrid of nervous yet excited so feel free to let your trepidation flag fly. I am going to answer the questions I’ve gotten over the last few weeks and if you have any feel free to leave them in the comments or to email (nopasanadablog@gmail.com) or just email to be like, “Gee, HB, you are all kinds of awesome”.

Roommates:

If you have one read their blog. Talk. Email. Twitter. Use whatever mode of communication that you like to use to get to know that person. In 2006 I was roommate-less and last year I ended up rooming with someone I barely knew. I’m pretty sure she is still recovering from the awkwardness and we haven’t spoken since. I honestly couldn’t tell you the name of her blog. I am not an evil stuck up bitch whore, it’s just that it was a last minute arrangement. That said, if you do know who your roommate will be a casual hello, I am glad you are still on the planet, would be a nice way to get things going. My roommate and I email at least twice a week. She knows that I snore and that I’m a bit of a lush and that I am mildly insane. She has accepted that and is still willing to share a room. If she can accept me (hell, have you read this blog before?) then I’m sure your roommate will accept you.

Business Cards:

Order them now. Sorry that sounded a bit like a command. I meant to say that perhaps you should strongly think about heading over to Moo or your business card manufacturer of choice to design and order your cards. Mine have been designed and printed. They’re simple and I tell them how much I adore them each night before bed. I also have a fun business card holder (from Etsy) for my cards and another small zipper case for the cards I come back with. Here’s my motto: Be prepared. Also, get some damn cards.

Sessions:

A few weeks ago Angella asked me about what sessions I would be attending and since I was in the middle of 17 piles of paper that were about to cause a small fire in my office, I stopped what I was doing to check things out. I might be biased about the quality of speakers since about 30 of them are people that I admire more than words; but seriously, y’all, the quality of speakers is insane. They’re all experts even if they don’t think they are and figuring out what sessions to attend this year has proved to be more challenging than previous years. My suggestion is to take the time to check out the sessions and the speakers. Click over to their personal sites if you have to. Get to know them and see why they were chosen to lead their respective sessions. I have somewhat of an idea of what I’ll be attending and realize that nothing is set in stone. Last year I had great plans to attend some session and then I was plagued by a hangover so I couldn’t go. Also I ended up meeting new people who I ended up wandering around with during the day. My point? Be fluid. Have a general idea though and go from there.

Speaking of fluid and hangovers:

I’m saying this from personal experience and also as fair warning; it is hard not to get caught up in the parties and chatting with several hundred people. And once you get swept away by the conversation and the free wine it’s difficult not to surface as the sober one. It’s also hard not to want to stay up late to keep the party going. On the one hand this is a once a year thing and so you want to soak up everything and be everywhere and keep up with the drinking. On the other hand you have a liver to think about. So don’t. Speaking as a woman who spent several days with a raging hangover I would suggest learning/knowing your limits for the partying/drinking. Also keep in mind that everyone there has a blog and a Flickr account. You do not want to see photos of you doing this and having little to no recollection of it at all.

If I don’t have a laptop at BlogHer will I regret it?

Each year more and more people bring their laptops and most people that I know will have theirs because the Internet doesn’t stop just because you’re on vacation. I’ll still be expected to meet deadlines even though my bosses witnessed me get piss drunk the night before. Also I hate uploading 500 pictures later and not having access to CNN at my fingertips. If you have one and you want to carry it around then bring it. If you don’t bring yours but you suddenly have a desperate need for a laptop someone will have one that you can use. Because bloggers are nice like that and they all know how addictive the internet can be. I think this is how crack addicts get along as well.

And- I assume people change clothes for the evening?

This photo and this photo were taken on the same day. I will be packing for two weeks away. Which means that I will essentially be dragging my entire summer wardrobe with me as I go from one climate (SF where it will be cold. Never mind that it is July) to another (The Deep South). There’s also the caveat that I am friends with one of the most popular fashion bloggers and she will remind me that I don’t need 45 different bottoms I just need to bring enough to mix and match. But to piss her off I plan to bring my crocs. That said, you can change in the evening but no, not everyone does. In fact I doubt that I will this time only because there won’t be so much oppressive heat and humidity that I’m sweating through everything.

And my last little tidbit is a word on the whole “What if I don’t know anyone?/What if everyone hates me?/What if I’m sitting alone?”:

Look, I don’t like people. I cannot stand large groups of people. I have my comfort friends who I will run to when I need a shoulder to lean on. I also constantly believe that no one will like me and that I will know zero people there. I plan to hide behind a Ficus. Sorry, I plan to hide DRUNK behind a Ficus. There will be 1,000 women there. Once you get past the overwhelming amount of estrogen you will see that not everyone knows everyone else and there will be new people there and blah blah blah. I promise you that you WILL make friends. I also promise that if someone sees you alone then she will sit down with you and you two will be BFFE. And if not, you can come hang out with me while I’m sitting alone; just me, my glass of wine and a giant tree. Possibly hyperventilating. But at least I’ll be friendly while doing it.

That’s all I have for now but I’m sure that later I’ll remember something really important and will feel compelled to share. Like remember that one time when I touched everyone’s boobs? Figure out your own way of saying “Hello!” Usually a handshake or hug will suffice.

Time Traveling Bunnies

June 3, 2008 | Filed under: BlogHer, Blogology, Listy

“My life has a superb cast but I can’t figure out the plot.” ~Ashleigh Brilliant

Though I am practically genetically predisposed to not be able to write quick and concise paragraphs and/or sentences, I am going to try and go against the grain and my DNA to write a list. For the record I wish y’all could so the lists I write. They aren’t lists so much as they are very long diatribes on what I should do, how it should be done, when I should do it and my precise thoughts on why it needs to be done. Sometimes they are even annotated with cute little footnotes and alway, always, always in MLA format.

1) The other day I told Susan that I didn’t want to go to San Francisco. She didn’t seem all that concerned because she probably sensed I was talking out of my ass and that if I was serious she would have Chris drag my ass from Albany to SFO if it killed me. And then Leah, Simon and Angella would force me to drink champagne and chain me to the hot tub. Then Whoorl would be all “YOU WILL DRINK AND YOU WILL LIKE IT OR ELSE I WILL FORCE YOU TO SPEND 36 HOURS ALONE WITH MY 2 YEAR OLD!” Fear not, I am going to San Francisco but I’m having a stupid ass blogging crisis and I’ve never actually had one before. So what am I to do? How am I to proceed? Suggestions more than welcome.

2) I’ve magically turned into one of those people who really fucking enjoys running. I mean REALLY. I mean the other day on the plane down to Baltimore I kept thinking about the great run I would have on Capitol Hill this morning. And I did. I used to be in the running is not something you do unless trying to get away from something, like a clown or a hyena, not something you do for the pure hell of it. But I seem to be wrong. Next thing you know I’m going to be all “Hot damn, that John McCain sure is swell!”

3) Saturday night I was tanked and at a black tie event in gold hooker heels with bright red nail polish. By Sunday afternoon I was sailing and jumping off the boat into the bay of the Susquehanna River. Such is life these days; I never know where I’m going to end up next.

4) A question I’ve seen floating around that I, too, have wanted answered: When y’all comment, you know that I read them right??? Because I do. I just don’t respond to every comment because while I am pretending to be good at the wit, I am just not so good. All of my responses would be “Awesome! Thanks!” How do we feel about this current system? Or could you really not give two shits and you’d much rather me talk about how much I hate Viognier but would roll around in a tub full of Riesling?

5) My mother WILL be guest posting again. She even went so far as to go and read the comments from her post while she was in Martha’s Vineyard. The only thing she does in Martha’s Vineyard is sit on her porch swing and go swimming at the ass crack of dawn. She does NOT use a laptop. That’s how strong her love is for you all. So for those who have asked over and over and over again; yes, she will be posting again.

6) The title of this post has been tickling me since Ben said it to Locke the other night on LOST. Then I got completely mind-fucked and now it’s been all of five days and do you people know how long it is until January??? JANUARY. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do until then except count the hairs on my ever present unibrow. The other option would be to weep silently and drink. But I think I do enough of that as it is.

7) Elisa asked if I would be on the BlogHer Community Keynote Committee. And I was like “I mean, I guess” while twirling my hair and rolling my eyes and acting like a forlorn teenager. In all seriousness, this is the brain child of the lovely Mrs. Kennedy and it’s an awesome (see? there I go with that word again) idea. In sum; it’s a BlogHer open mic, where people read their favorite entries. So, I strongly suggest reading this post and then going forth and sharing. Because sharing means caring and I am a very delicate flower these days so please do something, anything to make me happy.

8 ) Yesterday while I was in the throes of telling the Internet that maybe things aren’t working out and perhaps it can bite me, Y sent me a photo from the famed Cheeseburger Party last year in Chicago. She told me that she loves me and I got a little misty eyed and so here we are today.