Blogher Recap
In my attempt to stay connected and zone out, I've spent the past few days scouring the internet for pictures and recaps of Blogher '06. It's difficult to summarize my feelings about my experiences on Saturday (I only went to Day 2) as they were at times excited, nervous, embarrassed and then also confident. awe-struck and proud to be a part of such an amazing group of women.
I woke up at 4am on Saturday morning, and drove down to San Jose in hopes of not missing a single moment of the day's events. Happily zoning out and trying to decide if I like the new Paul Simon album, I vacillated between feeling confident (it doesn't matter that I haven't planned to meet up with anyone nor will I know anyone personally), and wondering what the hell I was doing. I've always been someone who can psyche myself up to go up and talk to a bunch of strangers, even as a kid I would be the one making friends with all the kids on the playground, but this was different. This was a huge group of women. Many of whom already knew each other. Many of whom I had been reading about for years and almost all of whom didn't know I was alive.
I arrived before registration was even open, but was happy to see a few people hovering around the breakfast table. A drop-dead gorgeous woman, who looked suspiciously familiar (I felt that way ALL day), looked up from pouring a cup of coffee and complimented my necklace. I gushed over hers and her shoes, and we spoke for a few minutes. She was speaking in the Identity... and Obligations panel, but I still couldn't place her. For over a year, my friend Jess has been telling me to read Chookooloonks, and now after running into Karen, I wish I'd taken that advice ages ago. I will.
I stumbled around a bit and landed with a group of Mommy Bloggers who seemed to have known each other for years and who had all partied together the night before. They welcomed me to sit at their table and were all very friendly and open, but I felt like a bit of a trespasser. People had blog cards and buttons and magnets and stickers with cute slogans and imagery designed to help everyone remember their blog names. I felt disorganized and reflective--what was I doing here? I barely blog. I'm not the least bit consistent in terms of 'theme' or 'purpose,' and I don't really consider myself a mommy blogger or a craft blogger or a food blogger...
As I introduced myself to people, everyone asked "what's your blog" and "what do you blog about," and I had a hard time describing it. I felt reluctant to attach to any one kind of blogging. It's more that my blog to date has been a diary--entries disorganized and rambly, covering many topics, with my passions and interests so varied as to be overwhelming even to myself. I've resolved to work on it...
So... after the sponsors were done with their spiels (heads were turning and eyes were rolling at one sponsor presentation--if you were there, you know who I'm talking about), and then some truly inspiring women spoke about how their blogs had changed them and the world. As the day went on, I found myself thinking about what my blog is and why I do it and what it means to me and if I even care about readership and popularity and traffic.
When we broke out into smaller groups to meet other like-minded bloggers, I started off with the knitters and then changed my mind midstream and decided to sit down with the food bloggers. I'll confess that I saw Shuna of Eggbeater sitting with the food bloggers, and after she spoke up so eloquently during the welcome session, I couldn't resist sitting down at her table. I was happy I did as we went around and introduced ourselves. Despite the fact that I do not by any stretch consider myself a food blogger, I felt like I fit in for the first time all morning. I met several interesting people and spoke at length with a few of them about how I cook for Matt and his battle with colitis.
Then it was off to a day of panel discussions. In retrospect, there were too many that I wanted to attend, and it's no surprise that I felt a bit letdown with the choices I made. But no matter--I enjoyed all of the discussions despite the lack of air conditioning and the fact that I was slowly building up a sweaty stink (so helpful for that confidence issue).
I got a seat up close during the Mommy Blogging panel and had a great view of the speakers (Mir, Tracey and Alice) as well as all the women who got up to ask questions (and do a bit of self-promotion...). There was a lot of talk about whether they(we) should happily call themselves Mommy Bloggers; whether it's condescending or pride-inducing or dismissive or who cares! One woman said she thinks blogging about motherhood is a way to discuss how we want to parent--something we are too uncomfortable to talk about with our real-life friends and neighbors and families, and I think she's on to something there...
Another woman, Nancy Emarsden (not a blogger yet) spoke about a book she's writing concerning the dumbing down of parents in the media--her thesis being we're the only thing that stands between children consumers and corporate interests. Her premise reminded me of an article about 'Tweens' in Nov/Dec 2005 edition of Mothering. I spoke with her later in the day, and I'll be waiting for her book with baited breath.
I also attended the much ballyhooed panel with Heather Armstrong during which she spoke quite charmingly about the transformations in her life since her blog became the family business, among other things. I walked away questioning my desire to blog, how much I need to/should censor myself for the sake of my family and friends and whether or not I care to do anything to improve my blog traffic.
Then I sat in on the panel entitled Is Your Blog a Gallery or a Canvas?, by far my favorite panel discussion, which was led by a writer, Eden Kennedy, a sketch artist/writer, Elizabeth Perry, and a photographer who moblogs, Ms. Jen. This discussion intrigued the part of me that aspires to write 'in real life,' but I came away from the session thinking that blogging is real life. I studied writing in college and promptly stopped doing it creatively the day after graduation. I stopped journalling. I stopped pushing my brain in that way all together. Aside from the writing I do for my work-work, which to be honest is quite a lot, blogging has become my main outlet for written thoughts. I love having it and never want to give it up. My blog has become my interactive, multi-media journal, and the key for me is that, despite some serious lapses in time, I keep doing it. Now I just want to do it better and plan to make some improvements around here.
Once the sessions were over, the hunger set in. Lunch was abominably bad (free though it was), and my hopes weren't up for cocktail finger-food. I ran into the lovely Fatemeh, who I had briefly met earlier during the food bloggers session, and asked her if she knew where we might find something edible. She and I ended up hanging out for the next few hours, and planned to go out for dinner after the cocktail party with a few of the other local food bloggers. But right as we were leaving, I spotted Julia and struck up a conversation with her. So I (somewhat reluctantly) decided to stick around and talk to some of the other bloggers I still wanted to meet. I had a nice conversation with MelissaS, and despite feeling like a stalker I was happy I went up and said hello.
A few (too many) drinks later, I realized it was 10pm and I was still starving. Leathery potato skins and greasy taquitos just don't do it for me--I hadn't eaten since noon. I went into the hotel restaurant and ran into Tracey (who blogs here and here), a woman I'd met in the lunch line earlier, and once again I flat-out asked if I could sit with her group. She was so sweet and warm and welcoming. Despite my total exhaustion and tipsiness, I truly enjoyed talking with the other women at the table, especially Rachel Cook (co-founder of Minti and very, very sweet) and Andrea, the blogger who made Karen's lovely necklace I'd admired first thing that morning. After scarfing down my pizza, my exhaustion totally set in and I felt like I couldn't chat for even one more minute. I retreated from the loud hum of the restaurant to my quiet room and promptly passed out, hard. I still have a kink in my back.
All in all, I'm glad I went. It was worth the money and the drive and the, at times, excruciating not-knowing-anyone of it all.
