Archive for the 'Blogology' Category

Storytellers

July 21, 2008 | Filed under: Blogology, Once Upon A Time..

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise.  The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”  ~Sylvia Plath

I started blogging not because I thought myself to be a fabulous writer but because I always had the most ABSOLUTELY INSANE stories EVER. That is all in caps because the hyperbole would be through the roof and suddenly a simple story about watching Katherine Harris (who I will dislike with a fiery passion from the deepest part of my soul for a very, very long time) play bumper cars while parallel parking is suddenly a huge OMFG YOU ALL MUST HEAR THIS type moment. Complete with hand gestures and facial expressions and a hearty laugh and then theories about her cracked out driver’s ed teacher and then how she may or may not have run over a squirrel. Little bit of truth and a little bit of lie.

As a writer or blogger or ‘creative whiner’ (which I am totally trademarking) you want stories to be interesting and mind-blowing so that people laugh or cry. I wasn’t going to write about stories today. I was actually going to write about crying in the lobby of the Westin St. Francis while drinking wine out of a paper cup and Angella looking at me like I had just lost my damn mind. Instead I have the esteemed pleasure of telling the awesome story about how I found out my credit card had been used without my authority. Which would have been panic attack inducing from home but when checking into a hotel for five nights in a city that you’ve never been to, you suddenly get the joy of experiencing vertigo. Possibly because it’s midnight and you have no voice and you look like a homeless person carrying all of your bags and wearing a shirt that says ZWAGGLE. And while people in the south are very kind people you can tell that the woman at the front desk is all ‘what the flying fuck is a zwaggle?’ And then you call your father because your mother has disappeared off the face of the earth (when really she’s just sleeping in her perfect summer house on a perfect little summer island and you’re stranded in New motherfucking Orleans at the start of hurricane season) and he’s like “Wait, who is this again?” And then the woman at the front desk can tell that perhaps you might die right there and then on the lobby and hey! now it’s 1:15 AM and you’re fishing around your bag for a klonopin because death is knocking at your door. Of course because of karma nothing too terrible happens and the front desk lady kind of feels bad because you seem to be in a bit of a precarious state and she doesn’t want to have to call a the paramedics to lift your catatonic body off the marble floor so she says “I’ll charge you for one night” right at the time when you hoist your bags back to your shoulders and say “Ok, thank you” and start to walk out the door. She does it not because she has to but because (and I quote) “There was no way in hell that I was going to let you walk out that door”. And when you type those words you will start to cry again because the past five days have been one amazing thing after another and all you can do is mouth thank you because all that god damn wine and screaming over rave music has left your vocal chords somewhat paralyzed. But you are so fucking thankful that you want to give her your first born and name it Sabrina (after her of course).

The next morning you wake up ridiculously late to give a talk on the politics of pedagogy (your favorite topic ever right next to using The Internet for community building) but the first thing you think is “Oh my fuck, I MUST tell The Internet this story”. And so you do.

The end.

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.

Guess who wants Typepad for Mother’s Day

May 8, 2008 | Filed under: Blogology, La Madre

And my friend Susan from Oklahoma is no longer my friend Susan from Oklahoma. She’s now that woman who dared to remotely think about reading the blog my mother will never ever start so long as I live. So help me God. Amen.

Simple things

April 30, 2008 | Filed under: Blogology, Fotografias

“Don’t let the fear of the time it will take to accomplish something stand in the way of your doing it.  The time will pass anyway; we might just as well put that passing time to the best possible use.”  ~Earl Nightingale

Good things have happened over the last few days. It’s usually the little things that add up to overwhelm and suffocate me, this time it has been moving past the bad to find the good. Even in it’s simplest form, things can be good. What’s hard is wading through the bad to get to it.

It’s there. I promise. You just have to do a bit of digging. And if your nails get dirty, don’t worry, that’s what a good manicure is for.