My Final BlogHer'08 Post

The thing about being a blogger is that you see the world and all its events through the lens of your blog. Thus, whatever happens to you gets revisioned into a snippet or so for the blog. At least, that's the way it is for me. So much of what I experienced at BlogHer'08, I've already written up in my mind. And to be honest, my mind is being a bit chary about letting loose of the good stuff. I've done some party blogging and some MidLifeBloggers blogging, and frankly, Scarlett, I'm boring myself. Perhaps I am that much more witty when it's just me and my mind. Or perhaps not, and I'm imagining it. Whatever--I will cough up the few snippets that are on the surface floating to the top, and then call it a day.

1. This was the best BlogHer conference for me. I've said before that I went to the first two in a state of neediness that almost guaranteed I would not be satisfied. This time, thanks to the many stern admonitions I gave myself, my head seemed to be screwed on right and, goddamit, I could enjoy the thing.
2. I feel fiercely protective of the three Founders and of BlogHer itself, so the bitching that I'm reading from PEOPLE WHO WEREN'T EVEN THERE just pisses me off. And you know how I get when I'm pissed off. I would say to all of you who have issues with the conference being "like high school" etc. etc. etc., Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. In other words, you're projecting your own shit onto other people. Don't do that. It makes you unhappy and causes frown lines that no Botox can resolve.
3. My favorite session was "Women Without Children and the Blogosphere." I wasn't going to go because I thought I had said on my blog everything there was to say, but Suebob Davis is a friend so I went to support her. And I ended up staying through to the end and being fascinated by the rush of warmth that came from a lot of women talking about how they really, really felt. For years, I thought I was the odd person out because I don't have kids. At that session, I found my tribe--and learned that I do have a lot more to say about it on this blog.
4. My experience--and what I heard from others--is that the breakout sessions were the most successful because they were more focused that the general sessions. For example, I went to the "Writing Workshop", but left because it seemed to be Writing 101 (and I'm at least in 301!). The same for the "Photography" session: I left when I realized it was mainly about taking pictures of your kids.
5. I do think that this year the conference was much more mommy-centric than in the past. It wasn't just that there was an entire Mommyblogging track. The emphasis among the sponsors and the exhibitors seemed to be on moms, particularly moms of young kids. Last year I spent a lot of time in the Exhibition Room, looking, listening to spiels, signing up for stuff. This year after a couple of circuits round the room, I had run out of exhibitors that offered anything I could use or relate to. I'm wondering whether this conference is going to continue that focus and the BlogHer Business conferences will end up being an equal, but different partner. I hope not, because I love the idea that all of us get together this one time every year--but really, from what I hear, even the mommy's are not wanting so much mommy stuff.
6. More technology next year, please.
7. The best part of the conference is--that it exists. Thank you, Jory, Elisa and Lisa.

THE END -- until 2009.

BlogHer'08: Just the first night...

Shallow as I am, I must confess that the parties and the socializing were the raison d'etre of BlogHer'08 for me. But then I announced that ahead of time, didn't I.

I meant to go to the Guy Kawasaki/Kirtsy party on Thursday night, but it was a tad difficult to get to. They had hired buses to take us from the St. Francis to Guy's house in Atherton. Good thinking, that. Not so good was the rush hour traffic, the 30 mile trip, and the bus driver who got lost. I got to the appointed pickup area at about 5:15 or so. Evidently I just missed a bus. The one with the bus driver who got lost. At 5:30, someone came out and told us the buses were "running slow and late." The earliest the next one would be there was 5:45, if then. And it would take, oh, another three quarters of an hour, if not more since it was smack in the middle of rush hour, to get to Guy's. Why didn't we wait inside, it was suggested, since this was San Francisco, and it was cold and windy outside. I did some mental math and decided that no matter how much I wanted to meet Guy (and thank him for putting the Midlife category on Alltop), I probably wouldn't be all that pleasant when I finally got there. So, yeah, I bagged it. And it was my loss, as I hear from those who went.

The two parties I did make it to on Thursday night were BlogHer's Newbie Party and The People's Party. The Newbie Party was quite lovely. Open bars...waiters passing endless amounts of finger snacky things--which was good, since I'd missed dinner. I feared, this not being my first but my THIRD BlogHer Conference, that I would be turned away from the Newbie Party. But would BlogHer do that? No way. I wish there had been a Newby Party the year I was a Newby, although that year we all hung out by the pool at the San Jose Hyatt, so meeting people wasn't that much of a problem. Still, it's nice to have the weekend begin with a celebration. I was with Melissa Silverstein at the Newby Party and we talked to Stephanie Klein, who told us about her new book, Moose: A Memoir of Fat Camp. Clearly Stephanie has mastered forever the days when she needed Fat Camp, and she is now working on the tele- (or is it screen-?)play of her first book, Straight Up and Dirty. However, Melissa, who blogs about Women and Hollywood, was itching to meet some radical feminist BlogHers, so we went to The People's Party to see if the bra burners were hanging out there.

Everyone was hanging out at The People's Party, which was in a smallish room. Consequently, the noise level was ab-so-lute-ly unbelievable. The People's Party was loud, people. Make that LOUD. Make that Ear Assaulting Pain Inducing Loud. I must confess that I was somewhat embarrassed, nay humiliated even, that a room full of my fellow female bloggers sounded like the aural definition of the word cacophony. Our voices hit a decibel register that, well, that approaches a cackle, as heard through a superbowl sized megaphone. A Superbowl Cackle, a chorus of Cackles.


This noise level issue was a problem at the St. Francis all weekend. I cannot believe that a room full of men sounds so dreadful. If it did, I'm sure the acoustical engineers would be trotted out instantly to do whatever was necessary to amend the problem. But since it was just a room full of women--like, how often is that going to happen? Let them eat cake, as it were. Let them go deaf listening to their shrill selves. Let them.....whatever.

I Am A Slut For A Party

Just invite me, and I'll go unimaginable distances. Like last weekend when I drove 368 miles to LA Daddy's birthday party. It was so worth it. If you go to his site, you'll see the photos he took. I didn't take any photos because--because I just didn't. Even though I took my camera to LA. And I had my cell phone camera with me. But, well, I'm just not one of those people that wants to memorialize every event. Sometimes one just has to let one's memory do the job.

If you go to that site, you'll see the back of my head in the next-to-the-last photo. Isn't my haircut great? I spent several days before my trip polishing up that old investigative reporter's elbow so I could find the wonder woman who has cut my hair in LA. Christina Cesna ("as in the plane") and she's at Fabric in BH. And I love her. Because she makes me a reasonable facsimile of presentable.

At the party, I talked to...here's the obligatory listing of fellow bloggers:
Whit, who is first this time because he was forgotten last time, even though he let me slip and slide down the hill and I broke my crown and didn't get home in one piece;
Kevin & his trusty mate, Will, who is a gentleman, even if he's in love with Kevin, who did end up ass over heels on the way to the hot tub when all and sundry were going for that final final drip through;
the lovely Kim who was svelte in a garment cunningly decorated for her by her oldest son, who surely will be on some Bravo reality show so remarkable was his ability to get the chocolate splotches just so;
Neilochka, known throughout the blogosphere as the consort of the lovely Sophia;
not to forget--ha!--Liz who really is goddessy everyday; and the kettlerattler
and the faithful mates, Trish and Karen and Will, and...and...and...
my publicist and my lawyer and my greengrocer, without whom none of this would have been worth the price of a bag of Boston Bibb not to mention those three stalks of celery that have been dogging my steps, stalking me you might say....and...and...and...--!

Party Time

I'm going to a party, tra la. I've done my toes and I've done my fingers, and by this I mean I've painted the nails on the digits and, okay, some of the flesh too. But if you can tell, you're too damn close.

As I search for the correct Label for this post, I see that this is my problem: I have no label for Party. Allow me to correct that...