Whoo BlogHer!
Apparently it's that time again, and to say it's snuck up on me actually means a lot when you consider how religiously I counted down to it last year. Of course, that may have been because I was going then, and I'm not now, so ... yeah.
Here are my tips: Talk to people. Have fun. Take photos.
People will talk to you. You will talk to people and they will talk back to you. You will not talk to everyone. You will have an awesome time. You will want to remember it.
If you're struggling for what to say, try these: I love your shoes. Hi, I'm [whoever] which leads to them saying hi back. What was your favourite session? Do you have a card wow what an interesting blog name / picture / tagline. Where are you from which leads to wow I have a relative / never been / always wanted to go there.
I kind of hate the question 'What is your blog about?' although you should have an answer ready. How about 'What is your favourite post you've ever written?' which might seem kind of weird but I think it will lead to more discussion.
And also you can cover anything you do/say with 'I'm asking everyone this' which totally legitimises anything, cos it's a THING you're DOING. Like, for reals.
Showing posts with label BlogHer08. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BlogHer08. Show all posts
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
BlogHer08 Conference: Looking Ahead to 09
I wrote this post a little while after I got back from the conference and promptly forgot about it. Things in italics are me writing from now, as some things needed to be changed from what I wrote way back then. Here we go.
As a bunch of people have already posted, BlogHer has announced the location of the 2009 conference. I posted - a lot - about the people and places from my San Francisco trip, but didn't really mention the conference as a whole. Here is my take on the conference - what worked and what would be good for 2009.
I know I am way behind everyone else; they've moved on, I clearly haven't.
Or, I was on holiday and wanted to wait until I could think about this before writing it. Take your pick. (Or I wanted to save up for an important occasion like NaBloPoMo where it would do some good.)
In essence: The conference? Amazing.
(You didn't think I was going to leave it at that.)
Tiff and I were very brave, made easier by the fact that pretty much everyone was nice and willing to talk to everyone else. Next year, I think I would rather introduce myself as "Missy, from Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch," but I don't regret playing the Australia card so much this year.
Yeah, I said next year. We might as well address this straight up. I want to go back next year. Yes, BlogHer, you suckered me in. After summer camp, we were all, "We totally have to keep coming back," but hardly any of us did. It was just not practical. Now, it's possible that BlogHer09 will not be practical either. But I think I would get more out of returning to BlogHer than I would have returning to camp, so I am more motivated to make it work.
I might as well un-address this straight up: I am like 90% sure I will not be going to BlogHer09. A trip around the world every year is kind of insane. I would rather do it properly every second or third year than go for the weekend and have to come home due to lack of spending/travelling money. When the conference is in Australia, then we'll talk.
I actually learned things at the sessions. (Basically I went to BlogHer to squeal at people, so this is kind of a shocker.) Some I went to more because I was interested than because they were relevant to me (if that makes sense), but I enjoyed them anyway. Due to scheduling conflicts, I missed out on some sessions I would have liked to attend. I did feel there was sometimes a divide between new and more experienced bloggers as far as discussion topics from the audience within sessions, which is a hard thing to control. (Also: Shut up about Twitter.) (Ahahaha. Awesome.) When I'm settled back, I plan to listen to as many of the recordings as I can.
The best session was Maggie Mason's one on Pursuing Your Passion. All three speakers were great, all very funny, and Maggie was the best moderator I saw. It was like a big conversation between friends; there was audience participation, but not so much that having speakers seemed pointless.
The food was not brilliant. Serving the same thing three days in a row gives the impression that it is the exact same box that was left over from three days ago. Not cool. The dessert rocked though, as did the Ghiradelli chocolate. And those cookies that time. Good work for having water bottles available all the time, I definitely needed it.
The ballroom was definitely the most intimidating room, as I mentioned. The reason being is that once any number of people are sitting at a table, they are "a group" - even if they were all random individuals who just happened to sit down at the same table. Having everyone in "groups" makes it hard to sit down. My suggestion is to assume everyone is just random individuals and sit down wherever the hell you like.
The speed dating did not work very well. From what I heard of last year, it worked much better the way they did it then (two circles facing each other, moving over one person every howevermany minutes). The first problem was that when we got up to move, the people behind us skipped our table in favour of the one ahead of us, leaving us with nowhere to go. The second problem was that, with the exception of the two new people, everyone had already heard everyone's introduction, yet they had to keep repeating it. The third thing - not necessarily a problem - was that it broke down fairly quickly, and everyone was moving randomly. Or not. And if not, you really got out what you were putting in.
Popular bloggers are not famous people. Except at BlogHer, where I hope everyone felt like royalty at some point or another.
Sponsors. I have no problem with BlogHer being sponsored to all hell. It's expensive enough as it is, go crazy, guys. There were a lot of products geared towards mums, but guess what? There were a lot of parents there. Shocker there's a correlation. I am very glad the Recycling Room was there; there was no way I was carrying everything I got all around the country and back home.
The Community Keynote was awesome. Must have it next year.
Also keep: the massage/relaxy room. Even if there's no massages, having a chill-out place was very welcome. I found out later about the AlphaMom Re:Boot Room, which sounds like it was awesome, and just what many people could have done with.
I am sure I missed something, but I think this'll do. Thank you a bajillion times to everyone who worked so hard to make it happen, and everyone who attended, you all are freaking awesome.
On the topic of the 09 location: I am surprised they are revisiting a city where the conference has already been held, but as it's a city I haven't visited, I would still be happy with it. If I was going. So maybe I should be annoyed it's not somewhere I've already been. Anyway. I'm glad they got the (very loud and repeated) message about having the hotel and conference in one building, and it looks like 09 will be an awesome conference. Whoo!
As a bunch of people have already posted, BlogHer has announced the location of the 2009 conference. I posted - a lot - about the people and places from my San Francisco trip, but didn't really mention the conference as a whole. Here is my take on the conference - what worked and what would be good for 2009.
I know I am way behind everyone else; they've moved on, I clearly haven't.
Or, I was on holiday and wanted to wait until I could think about this before writing it. Take your pick. (Or I wanted to save up for an important occasion like NaBloPoMo where it would do some good.)
In essence: The conference? Amazing.
(You didn't think I was going to leave it at that.)
Tiff and I were very brave, made easier by the fact that pretty much everyone was nice and willing to talk to everyone else. Next year, I think I would rather introduce myself as "Missy, from Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch," but I don't regret playing the Australia card so much this year.
Yeah, I said next year. We might as well address this straight up. I want to go back next year. Yes, BlogHer, you suckered me in. After summer camp, we were all, "We totally have to keep coming back," but hardly any of us did. It was just not practical. Now, it's possible that BlogHer09 will not be practical either. But I think I would get more out of returning to BlogHer than I would have returning to camp, so I am more motivated to make it work.
I might as well un-address this straight up: I am like 90% sure I will not be going to BlogHer09. A trip around the world every year is kind of insane. I would rather do it properly every second or third year than go for the weekend and have to come home due to lack of spending/travelling money. When the conference is in Australia, then we'll talk.
I actually learned things at the sessions. (Basically I went to BlogHer to squeal at people, so this is kind of a shocker.) Some I went to more because I was interested than because they were relevant to me (if that makes sense), but I enjoyed them anyway. Due to scheduling conflicts, I missed out on some sessions I would have liked to attend. I did feel there was sometimes a divide between new and more experienced bloggers as far as discussion topics from the audience within sessions, which is a hard thing to control. (Also: Shut up about Twitter.) (Ahahaha. Awesome.) When I'm settled back, I plan to listen to as many of the recordings as I can.
The best session was Maggie Mason's one on Pursuing Your Passion. All three speakers were great, all very funny, and Maggie was the best moderator I saw. It was like a big conversation between friends; there was audience participation, but not so much that having speakers seemed pointless.
The food was not brilliant. Serving the same thing three days in a row gives the impression that it is the exact same box that was left over from three days ago. Not cool. The dessert rocked though, as did the Ghiradelli chocolate. And those cookies that time. Good work for having water bottles available all the time, I definitely needed it.
The ballroom was definitely the most intimidating room, as I mentioned. The reason being is that once any number of people are sitting at a table, they are "a group" - even if they were all random individuals who just happened to sit down at the same table. Having everyone in "groups" makes it hard to sit down. My suggestion is to assume everyone is just random individuals and sit down wherever the hell you like.
The speed dating did not work very well. From what I heard of last year, it worked much better the way they did it then (two circles facing each other, moving over one person every howevermany minutes). The first problem was that when we got up to move, the people behind us skipped our table in favour of the one ahead of us, leaving us with nowhere to go. The second problem was that, with the exception of the two new people, everyone had already heard everyone's introduction, yet they had to keep repeating it. The third thing - not necessarily a problem - was that it broke down fairly quickly, and everyone was moving randomly. Or not. And if not, you really got out what you were putting in.
Popular bloggers are not famous people. Except at BlogHer, where I hope everyone felt like royalty at some point or another.
Sponsors. I have no problem with BlogHer being sponsored to all hell. It's expensive enough as it is, go crazy, guys. There were a lot of products geared towards mums, but guess what? There were a lot of parents there. Shocker there's a correlation. I am very glad the Recycling Room was there; there was no way I was carrying everything I got all around the country and back home.
The Community Keynote was awesome. Must have it next year.
Also keep: the massage/relaxy room. Even if there's no massages, having a chill-out place was very welcome. I found out later about the AlphaMom Re:Boot Room, which sounds like it was awesome, and just what many people could have done with.
I am sure I missed something, but I think this'll do. Thank you a bajillion times to everyone who worked so hard to make it happen, and everyone who attended, you all are freaking awesome.
On the topic of the 09 location: I am surprised they are revisiting a city where the conference has already been held, but as it's a city I haven't visited, I would still be happy with it. If I was going. So maybe I should be annoyed it's not somewhere I've already been. Anyway. I'm glad they got the (very loud and repeated) message about having the hotel and conference in one building, and it looks like 09 will be an awesome conference. Whoo!
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Mail Time Part Two
Part One is here.
When I was away, I bought a bunch of souvenir-type stuff, and when I got back divided it up to send/give to various people. Whoever I was planning to give the Disney chocolate to, I'm sorry, it's still sitting on my bookshelf. I don't know why I haven't eaten it yet.
I sent Carla - um, what did I send you? - something San Francisco-ish, I'm sure, plus a bunch of BlogHer swag items I'd collected. In the accompanying note I said something about needing to explain some of the things I'd sent her, because they were just random things, not souvenirs or anything. And then she got it and was all, "YES, I think you DO need to explain why you sent me THIS," and I was all, "Really?" and she was all, "YES, and also, don't you even know what you sent me?"
And then I was like, "Clearly not, but I am totally intrigued."
And THEN I was like, "Actually, I can't really explain that. But I sure am glad the other USB got sent to my little brother."
I realise not everyone loves getting mail as much as I do, but if you think that postcards and surprise packages are pretty cool, you can still let me know and you never know what might turn up.
When I was away, I bought a bunch of souvenir-type stuff, and when I got back divided it up to send/give to various people. Whoever I was planning to give the Disney chocolate to, I'm sorry, it's still sitting on my bookshelf. I don't know why I haven't eaten it yet.
I sent Carla - um, what did I send you? - something San Francisco-ish, I'm sure, plus a bunch of BlogHer swag items I'd collected. In the accompanying note I said something about needing to explain some of the things I'd sent her, because they were just random things, not souvenirs or anything. And then she got it and was all, "YES, I think you DO need to explain why you sent me THIS," and I was all, "Really?" and she was all, "YES, and also, don't you even know what you sent me?"
And then I was like, "Clearly not, but I am totally intrigued."
And THEN I was like, "Actually, I can't really explain that. But I sure am glad the other USB got sent to my little brother."
I realise not everyone loves getting mail as much as I do, but if you think that postcards and surprise packages are pretty cool, you can still let me know and you never know what might turn up.
Thursday, August 07, 2008
The Un!Comfortable! Moment (and Awesome Recovery) Award: Heather B
Again, this is all impression and seemed and felt, so read it with that in mind.
Tiff and I both read Heather B’s blog. We both got to it through Amalah, back when Heather was Noah’s babysitter (surely the best job in the world). We are both well aware of the fact that Heather is no longer his babysitter, and is in fact, a person and blogger in her own right.
One day (I’m guessing Saturday), Tiff walked close by Heather B and was brave enough to say hi. Good work, Tiff! Then the both of them, separately, walked close enough by me for Tiff to say, “Hey Missy, there’s Noah’s babysitter!” And then, I did my squealy excited thing, and called out, “Hi! I’m so jealous!” because I wasn't thinking, and also, if there had been more time, I would have said something like, “I love your blog,” but there wasn’t.
That night, at Macy’s, while Tiff and I were talking to Amalah about Trader Joe’s and Sephora and Noah, Heather B came up to rescue Amalah / take her to the Cheeseburger Party / whatever. Then she realised who I was and looked at Amalah and was all, “This is the girl I was telling you about. She thought I was Noah’s babysitter.” Um, hi, you were Noah’s babysitter, and if you’d give me a second, I could explain that I know you’re not any more. Then she recognised Tiff and said something about her as well, but I couldn’t hear because I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
Me and Tiff and Amalah had been having fun, hanging out, and then Amalah had been informed that I was nobody she would want to hang out with, ever, and straight away I was nothing to her. Obviously, not actually, because Amalah is not a horrible person (there’s an endorsement for you), but that was how I felt, because I am irrational like that.
Tiff took over Amalah duties and I tried to explain to Heather B that I actually did know who she was, that I liked her writing, and that I read her blog all the time, but I got the impression she didn’t care and wasn’t listening. Of course, that may have been because we were all about to be late for cheeseburgers, but still. I really don’t think it was anyone’s finest hour right there.
Again: NOT TRYING TO START DRAMA. MY OWN POINT OF VIEW. FEELINGS/THOUGHTS ATTAINED AFTER CONSUMPTION OF ALCOHOL.
Also: Heather B sent Tiff an extremely awesome email apologising for the situation (unnecessary, but lovely of her), and it was indeed as I thought, that she would like to be recognised as someone other than Noah's babysitter. Like, maybe as Heather B of No Pasa Nada. I'm just guessing, and the second one is in fact the way I think of her, but it was just simpler for Tiff to point her out to me as the former at the time. So we're sorry, too.
And I got to meet Heather B! Woohoo!
Tiff and I both read Heather B’s blog. We both got to it through Amalah, back when Heather was Noah’s babysitter (surely the best job in the world). We are both well aware of the fact that Heather is no longer his babysitter, and is in fact, a person and blogger in her own right.
One day (I’m guessing Saturday), Tiff walked close by Heather B and was brave enough to say hi. Good work, Tiff! Then the both of them, separately, walked close enough by me for Tiff to say, “Hey Missy, there’s Noah’s babysitter!” And then, I did my squealy excited thing, and called out, “Hi! I’m so jealous!” because I wasn't thinking, and also, if there had been more time, I would have said something like, “I love your blog,” but there wasn’t.
That night, at Macy’s, while Tiff and I were talking to Amalah about Trader Joe’s and Sephora and Noah, Heather B came up to rescue Amalah / take her to the Cheeseburger Party / whatever. Then she realised who I was and looked at Amalah and was all, “This is the girl I was telling you about. She thought I was Noah’s babysitter.” Um, hi, you were Noah’s babysitter, and if you’d give me a second, I could explain that I know you’re not any more. Then she recognised Tiff and said something about her as well, but I couldn’t hear because I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
Me and Tiff and Amalah had been having fun, hanging out, and then Amalah had been informed that I was nobody she would want to hang out with, ever, and straight away I was nothing to her. Obviously, not actually, because Amalah is not a horrible person (there’s an endorsement for you), but that was how I felt, because I am irrational like that.
Tiff took over Amalah duties and I tried to explain to Heather B that I actually did know who she was, that I liked her writing, and that I read her blog all the time, but I got the impression she didn’t care and wasn’t listening. Of course, that may have been because we were all about to be late for cheeseburgers, but still. I really don’t think it was anyone’s finest hour right there.
Again: NOT TRYING TO START DRAMA. MY OWN POINT OF VIEW. FEELINGS/THOUGHTS ATTAINED AFTER CONSUMPTION OF ALCOHOL.
Also: Heather B sent Tiff an extremely awesome email apologising for the situation (unnecessary, but lovely of her), and it was indeed as I thought, that she would like to be recognised as someone other than Noah's babysitter. Like, maybe as Heather B of No Pasa Nada. I'm just guessing, and the second one is in fact the way I think of her, but it was just simpler for Tiff to point her out to me as the former at the time. So we're sorry, too.
And I got to meet Heather B! Woohoo!
Wednesday, August 06, 2008
How I Almost Got Locked In Macy's And Then Met A Bunch Of Awesome People
I had had a make-over from the Bare Minerals people at the conference, and - like a total sucker - bought a couple of their products, to be picked up from the Macy's party.
Naturally, I was way too busy prancing around the lingerie department, or demanding bottles of wine since they'd run out of glasses, to even think of searching for my purchases. Until like the very last second, when it occurred to me that I'd given these people my credit card number, it wouldn't be too good if I didn't track them down.
Which I tried to do and was sent to the cosmetics department, bottom floor. Except that the very bottom floor was closed and the dude wouldn't let me down the escalator. But then I was all "I need to pick up my crap!" and must have looked a little emotional, so he was like, "I'm going to get someone from security" which was different to the "Security!" call that he could have made, so that was good.
Security took me downstairs and found me a make-up person. Turned out my crazy foreign credit card hadn't even gone through, so I could have just left without my "crap." But I got it, and they made me walk out the employees entrance as it was so late. I had to have my bag searched (black, clutch, TINY, like, my phone barely fit - plus she totally ignored the huge Macy's bag I was carrying that would have fit all kind of stolen merchandise) by the door bitch, and then I was released.
As I stepped out the door I realised I was on the totally opposite side to where I'd come in and had no freaking idea where the hotel was. I ran back inside and demanded someone tell me where my room was. Shockingly, the door bitch was unhelpful, but there was no way I was going back outside without some directions, a map, preferably GPS (with a battery that worked). I would rather have slept there (and since this means I would've missed the festivities of the last night, being locked in Macy's was much less appealing than it normally would have been). I was all, SERIOUSLY, NOT LEAVING. WHERE IS MY CHEESEBURGER PARTY? at the guys in the security booth, who were wayy more helpful than the door bitch (shocker) and I made it home.
By the time I got there, a bunch of people were gathered in the lobby after the Cheeseburger Party had been broken up. I went up to a group of people which included someone I knew (maybe Jennster?) and maybe three or four that I didn’t.
After me and whoever had stopped chatting, one of the other girls was all, “Are you Missy, from Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch?” (Ok, first of all, SQUEE! This was the first and only time this happened to me.) I was like, “Yeeeees?” in the tone of voice like, you might be a psycho and I don’t want to give too much away, but I was really trying to figure out who this person was without reading her nametag or looking like I was trying. Thank god, she relieved me of the effort: “I’m Kristabella.” And I was like, “Really? Kristabella?” like, no, she just made it up. After I stole a glance at her nametag, I demanded a hug – and I’m sure there was a squeal in there as well; I was fucking excited – and babbled some more crap.
Then I realised I was making a scene and turned to introduce myself to the rest of the circle. “Hi, I’m Slynnro.” Shut up, you are not. OMG it’s Slynnro! “Hi, I’m Ali.” OMG it’s Ali Martell! And so on.
Seriously, that whole circle was people I wanted to meet, but hadn’t seen all weekend (or if I had, I’d rudely ignored them). I wish we had more time to spend together, but maybe next year.
In summary: it was freaking awesome.
Naturally, I was way too busy prancing around the lingerie department, or demanding bottles of wine since they'd run out of glasses, to even think of searching for my purchases. Until like the very last second, when it occurred to me that I'd given these people my credit card number, it wouldn't be too good if I didn't track them down.
Which I tried to do and was sent to the cosmetics department, bottom floor. Except that the very bottom floor was closed and the dude wouldn't let me down the escalator. But then I was all "I need to pick up my crap!" and must have looked a little emotional, so he was like, "I'm going to get someone from security" which was different to the "Security!" call that he could have made, so that was good.
Security took me downstairs and found me a make-up person. Turned out my crazy foreign credit card hadn't even gone through, so I could have just left without my "crap." But I got it, and they made me walk out the employees entrance as it was so late. I had to have my bag searched (black, clutch, TINY, like, my phone barely fit - plus she totally ignored the huge Macy's bag I was carrying that would have fit all kind of stolen merchandise) by the door bitch, and then I was released.
As I stepped out the door I realised I was on the totally opposite side to where I'd come in and had no freaking idea where the hotel was. I ran back inside and demanded someone tell me where my room was. Shockingly, the door bitch was unhelpful, but there was no way I was going back outside without some directions, a map, preferably GPS (with a battery that worked). I would rather have slept there (and since this means I would've missed the festivities of the last night, being locked in Macy's was much less appealing than it normally would have been). I was all, SERIOUSLY, NOT LEAVING. WHERE IS MY CHEESEBURGER PARTY? at the guys in the security booth, who were wayy more helpful than the door bitch (shocker) and I made it home.
By the time I got there, a bunch of people were gathered in the lobby after the Cheeseburger Party had been broken up. I went up to a group of people which included someone I knew (maybe Jennster?) and maybe three or four that I didn’t.
After me and whoever had stopped chatting, one of the other girls was all, “Are you Missy, from Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch?” (Ok, first of all, SQUEE! This was the first and only time this happened to me.) I was like, “Yeeeees?” in the tone of voice like, you might be a psycho and I don’t want to give too much away, but I was really trying to figure out who this person was without reading her nametag or looking like I was trying. Thank god, she relieved me of the effort: “I’m Kristabella.” And I was like, “Really? Kristabella?” like, no, she just made it up. After I stole a glance at her nametag, I demanded a hug – and I’m sure there was a squeal in there as well; I was fucking excited – and babbled some more crap.
Then I realised I was making a scene and turned to introduce myself to the rest of the circle. “Hi, I’m Slynnro.” Shut up, you are not. OMG it’s Slynnro! “Hi, I’m Ali.” OMG it’s Ali Martell! And so on.
Seriously, that whole circle was people I wanted to meet, but hadn’t seen all weekend (or if I had, I’d rudely ignored them). I wish we had more time to spend together, but maybe next year.
In summary: it was freaking awesome.
Saturday, August 02, 2008
The End (updated from san francisco)
I'm leaving.
In like, not very many hours.
This does not actually seem real, possibly because I haven't packed and am busy watching Harry Potter, which is good because then I am not freaking out.
How is it possible that I leave Michigan, fly to Phoenix (which ... where is Arizona, anyway?), fly to San Francisco, fly to Auckland, then am home, which equals not anywhere that I can play RockBand or eat Ben&Jerry's or casually discuss Keynotes and Cheeseburger Parties. I think that is not actually possible.
What is even more impossible is that, essentially, 'tomorrow' is my birthday, so I get home, have a party, then have to go straight back to uni.
Like, what the fuck?
Update: Ok, I actually am leaving now. Well, very soon. Now I'm in SFO, at my gate, about to board my plane for New Zealand. (I almost wrote 'ready to board' but I don't think I am. It seems like ages since I was home, but no, three weeks was not long enough.) The flights to and from Phoenix were uneventful, except that when we got to SFO, we broke two luggage carousels when someone's bag got stuck and kinda ruined. Anybody want to guess whose?
In like, not very many hours.
This does not actually seem real, possibly because I haven't packed and am busy watching Harry Potter, which is good because then I am not freaking out.
How is it possible that I leave Michigan, fly to Phoenix (which ... where is Arizona, anyway?), fly to San Francisco, fly to Auckland, then am home, which equals not anywhere that I can play RockBand or eat Ben&Jerry's or casually discuss Keynotes and Cheeseburger Parties. I think that is not actually possible.
What is even more impossible is that, essentially, 'tomorrow' is my birthday, so I get home, have a party, then have to go straight back to uni.
Like, what the fuck?
Update: Ok, I actually am leaving now. Well, very soon. Now I'm in SFO, at my gate, about to board my plane for New Zealand. (I almost wrote 'ready to board' but I don't think I am. It seems like ages since I was home, but no, three weeks was not long enough.) The flights to and from Phoenix were uneventful, except that when we got to SFO, we broke two luggage carousels when someone's bag got stuck and kinda ruined. Anybody want to guess whose?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
The Make My Dreams Come True Award (Tie): Amy from Amalah.com
So the surprise of this one was totally ruined, Amy, but whatever.
Friday night, Tiff and I finally made it to Ruby Skye, after the door bitch wouldn’t let FCM in. We snagged some food from downstairs and managed to get to upstairs just as some other people were vacating a table. Score.
Even more score than we realised at first, because who should be sitting on the couch behind us but Tiff’s (and my) great blogging crush, Amalah.
After a lot of back-and-forward conversations along the lines of …
You go talk to her.
No, you.
No way.
You’re the one that wanted to meet her.
I’m drinking my drink.
I’m eating my food.
We can’t go over, it’ll look like we came here on purpose.* (Which, if you mean our table at Ruby Skye, then no, we didn’t. If you mean to BlogHer, then yeah, we kinda did.)
… and so on and so forth, the decision was made for us.
Amalah had been totally surrounded and protected by her bodyguard every time we had seen her, including right then. But then! She was walking somewhere (to get carbs, as it turned out. And maybe to go to the bathroom), and she was walking there alone.
This was it. I stepped out and was all, “Amalah?” as if there was ANY DOUBT IN THE WORLD that this was Amalah. I babbled a lot of crap – including the fact that I flew to San Francisco from Australia just to meet her – and she was looking a little scared, so I introduced her to Tiff, and they had a great conversation about Noah’s recent haircut.
Yay! Another Internet Rockstar successfully stalked.
But no, wait, it’s not over yet.
At the book-signing at Macy’s, Amalah was banished to a couch at the back, and by the time I got there – I was busy in the lingerie department, remember? – she was all by herself. I got all the other signatures then approached her for hers. I apologised for babbling like an idiot the night before, and she said she remembered me but not the babbling (I might be totally making this shit up to make myself feel better, by the way).
AND THEN, Amalah and I had a huge fucking chat. Mostly about Sephora. And the advantage of sample sizes when travelling on flights that don’t exist. And then I was all, “I bought some of the Bare Minerals from the make-over thing at the conference! You write about Bare Minerals in the Advice Smackdown, right?! I’m just like you!” And she was all, “Actually, idiot, I fucking hate Bare Minerals with a fiery passion. But still, you scored a product from the Advice Smackdown line, so yay, props to you.”
Then she was very sweet and let me take a photo of her and baby Tivo, and one of us, after I promised I would go away after this.
Which I did, but then Tiff wanted to tell Amalah she made her cry, so we had to go back, and Amalah was all (in her head), “Dude! I just got rid of you! What the hell!” and out loud, very sweet and awesome.
Then we all had another chat, this one about my delusion that I might have been likely to run into Amalah at Trader Joe’s the second I got to SF, which she seemed to find funny instead of insane, and then somehow, in the course of talking about internet crazies (hey!), Amalah let out this huge “MAH BABEEEEE!” just like she’s written a thousand times and I almost died right there. It was so freaking awesome.
In conclusion: Amalah = freaking awesome. Missy and Tiff = totally in love with her.
*PS: Tiff was just reading this over my shoulder, and yelled at me for revealing to Amalah and the whole internet that we were not as suave as we may have appeared, what with all the casually approaching internet celebrities and whatnot, and may now appear slightly crazy. Which, Amalah, you're pretty smart, right? You already figured that part out, didn't you? Yeah, I thought so.
Friday night, Tiff and I finally made it to Ruby Skye, after the door bitch wouldn’t let FCM in. We snagged some food from downstairs and managed to get to upstairs just as some other people were vacating a table. Score.
Even more score than we realised at first, because who should be sitting on the couch behind us but Tiff’s (and my) great blogging crush, Amalah.
After a lot of back-and-forward conversations along the lines of …
You go talk to her.
No, you.
No way.
You’re the one that wanted to meet her.
I’m drinking my drink.
I’m eating my food.
We can’t go over, it’ll look like we came here on purpose.* (Which, if you mean our table at Ruby Skye, then no, we didn’t. If you mean to BlogHer, then yeah, we kinda did.)
… and so on and so forth, the decision was made for us.
Amalah had been totally surrounded and protected by her bodyguard every time we had seen her, including right then. But then! She was walking somewhere (to get carbs, as it turned out. And maybe to go to the bathroom), and she was walking there alone.
This was it. I stepped out and was all, “Amalah?” as if there was ANY DOUBT IN THE WORLD that this was Amalah. I babbled a lot of crap – including the fact that I flew to San Francisco from Australia just to meet her – and she was looking a little scared, so I introduced her to Tiff, and they had a great conversation about Noah’s recent haircut.
Yay! Another Internet Rockstar successfully stalked.
But no, wait, it’s not over yet.
At the book-signing at Macy’s, Amalah was banished to a couch at the back, and by the time I got there – I was busy in the lingerie department, remember? – she was all by herself. I got all the other signatures then approached her for hers. I apologised for babbling like an idiot the night before, and she said she remembered me but not the babbling (I might be totally making this shit up to make myself feel better, by the way).
AND THEN, Amalah and I had a huge fucking chat. Mostly about Sephora. And the advantage of sample sizes when travelling on flights that don’t exist. And then I was all, “I bought some of the Bare Minerals from the make-over thing at the conference! You write about Bare Minerals in the Advice Smackdown, right?! I’m just like you!” And she was all, “Actually, idiot, I fucking hate Bare Minerals with a fiery passion. But still, you scored a product from the Advice Smackdown line, so yay, props to you.”
Then she was very sweet and let me take a photo of her and baby Tivo, and one of us, after I promised I would go away after this.
Which I did, but then Tiff wanted to tell Amalah she made her cry, so we had to go back, and Amalah was all (in her head), “Dude! I just got rid of you! What the hell!” and out loud, very sweet and awesome.
Then we all had another chat, this one about my delusion that I might have been likely to run into Amalah at Trader Joe’s the second I got to SF, which she seemed to find funny instead of insane, and then somehow, in the course of talking about internet crazies (hey!), Amalah let out this huge “MAH BABEEEEE!” just like she’s written a thousand times and I almost died right there. It was so freaking awesome.
In conclusion: Amalah = freaking awesome. Missy and Tiff = totally in love with her.
*PS: Tiff was just reading this over my shoulder, and yelled at me for revealing to Amalah and the whole internet that we were not as suave as we may have appeared, what with all the casually approaching internet celebrities and whatnot, and may now appear slightly crazy. Which, Amalah, you're pretty smart, right? You already figured that part out, didn't you? Yeah, I thought so.
Monday, July 28, 2008
The Total Enthusiasm and Friendliness Award: Jennster
Guess what guys, I have a very long list of people I met at BlogHer that I want to post about. You're going to be ignoring reading BlogHer Awards posts for a long time, the way we're going. Awesome, right?!
Thursday night, People's Party. Tiff and I were doing well on our goal of speaking to other bloggers. We could almost be described as ... sociable.
THEN, I saw, across the room, Jennster. Maybe. I don't know. It kind of looks like her, you know? She's blonde. She is blonde, right? She has a camera. I'm almost sure Jennster has a camera. Maybe it's some other blonde chick who looks like a lot of fun. Let's go over here now and talk to someone else.
Up til then, I had either read people's nametags and done my squealy "OMG I love your blog!" bit at them, or Tiff had made the introductions. Jennster was the first one who WASN'T WEARING A NAMETAG (very unhelpful) and that Tiff couldn't help me out with. Fuck. On the one hand, we had a deal. On the other ... I still wasn't sure if it was actually her.
Pink top. Does Jennster have a pink top? Maybe if I scooch over in her direction a little I might be able to see her face a little better. What if I imagine it in a little box on a profile page, does that help? Ok, even I am getting ready to slap myself upside the head.
Jennster and I somehow ended up at the bar at the same time, and I was totally brave and asked if she was indeed Jennster. Yes she was. (THANK GOD.) When I told her who I was, she did the squealy thing, and demanded a hug, and was just generally so excited to chat to me that I was never afraid to speak to anyone ever again. (Pretty much.) (Which is an awesome thing to have happen on the first night. I highly recommend it.)
I remain convinced that she didn't actually know who I was, or thought I was someone else, but THAT'S NOT THE POINT. Jennster was totally cool that night and continued to be so for the rest of the conference. She's just one of those awesome people who seems to know and be liked by everybody.
She gets this award for being completely awesome, enthusiastic, and photographical. The lesson in all of this is GET EXCITED, BITCHES!
Thursday night, People's Party. Tiff and I were doing well on our goal of speaking to other bloggers. We could almost be described as ... sociable.
THEN, I saw, across the room, Jennster. Maybe. I don't know. It kind of looks like her, you know? She's blonde. She is blonde, right? She has a camera. I'm almost sure Jennster has a camera. Maybe it's some other blonde chick who looks like a lot of fun. Let's go over here now and talk to someone else.
Up til then, I had either read people's nametags and done my squealy "OMG I love your blog!" bit at them, or Tiff had made the introductions. Jennster was the first one who WASN'T WEARING A NAMETAG (very unhelpful) and that Tiff couldn't help me out with. Fuck. On the one hand, we had a deal. On the other ... I still wasn't sure if it was actually her.
Pink top. Does Jennster have a pink top? Maybe if I scooch over in her direction a little I might be able to see her face a little better. What if I imagine it in a little box on a profile page, does that help? Ok, even I am getting ready to slap myself upside the head.
Jennster and I somehow ended up at the bar at the same time, and I was totally brave and asked if she was indeed Jennster. Yes she was. (THANK GOD.) When I told her who I was, she did the squealy thing, and demanded a hug, and was just generally so excited to chat to me that I was never afraid to speak to anyone ever again. (Pretty much.) (Which is an awesome thing to have happen on the first night. I highly recommend it.)
I remain convinced that she didn't actually know who I was, or thought I was someone else, but THAT'S NOT THE POINT. Jennster was totally cool that night and continued to be so for the rest of the conference. She's just one of those awesome people who seems to know and be liked by everybody.
She gets this award for being completely awesome, enthusiastic, and photographical. The lesson in all of this is GET EXCITED, BITCHES!
Friday, July 25, 2008
The Don't Judge A Book By It's Awkward Award: Backpacking Dad and Redneck Mommy
Disclaimer Part One: I was going to write a post about how I am in The OC, where I should be outside and at the beach every daylight hour but am instead hiding in my room, because I am a fucking chicken right now. I was going to write about how I spent the whole day reading blogs, and obsessively checking a few blogs in particular to read their comment sections, except for when I went to the pool, saw that there were other people there and went back to my room. I was going to write about how the only place I went to was Denny's, and the hotel front desk, but only after I argued with the woman about whether or not I could give them a signature over the phone. I was going to write about how I haven't even been to the beach, and not only because I didn't want to mess up my hair. But I didn't want that to be the post up when the imaginary hordes of people came here via BlogHer business cards or linky love fests, so I am - now, after babbling all that anyway - going to write about two more bloggers I met at BlogHer.
Disclaimer Part Two: This is going to be an interesting writing exercise, to see if I can convey all this so that you read what I think I am writing. Just know that a lot of BlogHer is first, quick impressions, and that words like thought, felt, impression, seemed, appeared will come up frequently, and there is a reason for that.
Are we all disclaimed enough? Ok.
One day, Tiff and I were looking for a seat from which to listen to the Community Keynote. The ballroom was one of the most intimidating places at BlogHer, in my opinion. 1000 women, all in one place, and most sitting at tables, which instantaneously creates 'groups' of which you are not a part.
As we wandered, trying not to look like we were attempting to find cool people to sit with that weren't so cool that they would question what we were doing at their table, I kept reading people's boobs, and in doing so, saw Backpacking Dad's nametag. I said to Tiff, "I have to say hello to someone," because we had a deal, remember? And I dragged her over.
I squealed at him (poor bloke), as I do, "Hi! I'm Missy from Australia! I freaking love your blog!" or words to that effect. He said Hi back, because he is cool like that, and I was very happy. That was all I wanted, for cool people to say hi to me, and then I didn't need to see them for the rest of the weekend. Problem was, I had sat down at his table, and Tiff had joined me.
Fuck.
I really should have thought that through.
See, I can sometimes chat to people quite well, but in this case, I hadn't prepared any small talk topics, as I already knew what his blog was about, and I'd covered the Australia thing right there in my intro.
Anyway, Redneck Mommy came over (or was maybe there the whole time and I just now realised who she was?) and I squealed at her as well, as soon as I recognised her.
Here's where the impression part comes in: they both seemed less than impressed that Tiff and I were at their table, and I was starting to think that maybe the squealing was wearing on people. I even suggested to Tiff that we could go get some more food, just so we could come back in and sit at a different table. But she wouldn't let me, so we were stuck.
And then Backpacking Dad asked for a photo with me, and I was thrilled that someone wanted a photo with me and got a smidge bit happier. But I still couldn't shake the feeling they weren't totally in love with me. And that was hard. It's not that they were rude, or unwelcoming, but that they didn't completely love me. Oh yes, I have it tough.
That feeling was completely shaken when the two of them left simply amazing comments - here and elsewhere - to the effect that they did in fact think highly enough of me that I should go back to totally loving them and their blogs. Which I have.
I'm feeling a bit something about this. I hope I have not offended the bloggers in question; I really do love your writing. I hope this doesn't sound like I'm manufacturing bad shit; I just want to put it out there that BlogHer does depend a lot on what people get from certain situations. I hope no-one thinks this is some lame attempt at creating drama; I wanted to write about my feelings and I feel using an actual situation (especially one that turned out fine in the end) is me being honest (and also letting you know that it was all in my head).
BlogHer, and blogs, is about little snippets of people, which we use to judge them. Poorly, in this case, for which I am very sorry, and you should all read these two awesome bloggers because I thought of them in a manner which is not conducive to the spirit of BlogHer, and I owe them one, or a bajillion.
Sooooooo. I freaking love you guys! Hugs?
Disclaimer Part Two: This is going to be an interesting writing exercise, to see if I can convey all this so that you read what I think I am writing. Just know that a lot of BlogHer is first, quick impressions, and that words like thought, felt, impression, seemed, appeared will come up frequently, and there is a reason for that.
Are we all disclaimed enough? Ok.
One day, Tiff and I were looking for a seat from which to listen to the Community Keynote. The ballroom was one of the most intimidating places at BlogHer, in my opinion. 1000 women, all in one place, and most sitting at tables, which instantaneously creates 'groups' of which you are not a part.
As we wandered, trying not to look like we were attempting to find cool people to sit with that weren't so cool that they would question what we were doing at their table, I kept reading people's boobs, and in doing so, saw Backpacking Dad's nametag. I said to Tiff, "I have to say hello to someone," because we had a deal, remember? And I dragged her over.
I squealed at him (poor bloke), as I do, "Hi! I'm Missy from Australia! I freaking love your blog!" or words to that effect. He said Hi back, because he is cool like that, and I was very happy. That was all I wanted, for cool people to say hi to me, and then I didn't need to see them for the rest of the weekend. Problem was, I had sat down at his table, and Tiff had joined me.
Fuck.
I really should have thought that through.
See, I can sometimes chat to people quite well, but in this case, I hadn't prepared any small talk topics, as I already knew what his blog was about, and I'd covered the Australia thing right there in my intro.
Anyway, Redneck Mommy came over (or was maybe there the whole time and I just now realised who she was?) and I squealed at her as well, as soon as I recognised her.
Here's where the impression part comes in: they both seemed less than impressed that Tiff and I were at their table, and I was starting to think that maybe the squealing was wearing on people. I even suggested to Tiff that we could go get some more food, just so we could come back in and sit at a different table. But she wouldn't let me, so we were stuck.
And then Backpacking Dad asked for a photo with me, and I was thrilled that someone wanted a photo with me and got a smidge bit happier. But I still couldn't shake the feeling they weren't totally in love with me. And that was hard. It's not that they were rude, or unwelcoming, but that they didn't completely love me. Oh yes, I have it tough.
That feeling was completely shaken when the two of them left simply amazing comments - here and elsewhere - to the effect that they did in fact think highly enough of me that I should go back to totally loving them and their blogs. Which I have.
I'm feeling a bit something about this. I hope I have not offended the bloggers in question; I really do love your writing. I hope this doesn't sound like I'm manufacturing bad shit; I just want to put it out there that BlogHer does depend a lot on what people get from certain situations. I hope no-one thinks this is some lame attempt at creating drama; I wanted to write about my feelings and I feel using an actual situation (especially one that turned out fine in the end) is me being honest (and also letting you know that it was all in my head).
BlogHer, and blogs, is about little snippets of people, which we use to judge them. Poorly, in this case, for which I am very sorry, and you should all read these two awesome bloggers because I thought of them in a manner which is not conducive to the spirit of BlogHer, and I owe them one, or a bajillion.
Sooooooo. I freaking love you guys! Hugs?
Thursday, July 24, 2008
The Make My Dreams Come True Award (Tie): Sarah from Whoorl.com
A looong time ago, I basically wished to Jesus Santa hobbits that Amalah would give me cosmetics advice, and Whoorl would take me to her hairdresser and they would turn my hair into something beautiful.
(And tangent? I was really annoyed, because I couldn't figure out how to write this without spoiling the Amalah surprise, and then she went and left a comment on my blog, ruining the surprise, so ... guess what? I got to chat to Amalah! That post - in excruciating detail, I have no doubt - is to come.)
Later, Whoorl and Moosh In Indy held a competition, which I entered, and had no doubt I was totally going to win.
Which is why, on the last night of BlogHer, I was totally stalking the both of them so they could tell me that I won. Sadly, no. (Also sad? I never did speak to Moosh In Indy. She might be like the only one on my list that I didn't freak right the fuck out by flinging myself at while squealing.) I did not win the competition. I was very sad, but not really, because I got to talk to Whoorl!
Anyway, somehow - magically, or possibly very rudely - I invited myself or found myself invited to visit Whoorl's stylist with her and we would do a real live Hair Thursday. I know, right?!
The lovely and awesome Sarah has a post up about it over on her site. No need to watch the video. I tend to babble shit and not know where to look when a video camera is pointed at me. (Also, do I never smile?) I believe her take on it was something like, 'We only want to hear your accent! We don't care what you say!' So that was nice.
This is the actual version of what happened.
I made the appointment, after Sarah told Tera that some crazy girl was going to invade the salon and expect miracles to be worked. Tera was not actually there when I called, which gave me a teeny problem. "Whatever Sarah says" is not very helpful when they want to know what you're having done. But it was fine, and Sarah and I would meet Tera there.
Backtrack a little - some incredibly smart person left all her hair products at home. She then used her awesome roommate's hair products, which worked quite well. Said awesome roommate then ditched her for Michigan, taking her hair products with her.
Which is how I ended up buying a random curl hold thing from Rite Aid, which nearly gave Sarah and Tera heart attacks when I told them what was in my hair. Also? Out of this whole trip, when I arrived for Hair Thursday my hair has never looked crapper. I like to think it made the Before and After photos that much more dramatic, but really? You kind of want the best hair people in the world to think you're not a total hair idiot. (They did not even think that, seriously, they were freaking lovely. But still.) I got them to produce some more pained looks when I told them I'd coloured my hair myself, but they recovered and we moved on.
Sarah was all like, 'layers and bangs and oh it might look like mine, I hope that's ok.' Uh, fuck yeah. That'd be fricking amazing! And Tera was like, 'this home colour thing is killing me, I need to put some chocolate brown in there.' And I was like, 'I like chocolate!' So we were all agreed.
Tera and I got started (yes, I was working sooo hard, not) and Whoorl took off because it was too scary to watch. No, actually, Wito (freaking adorable!) needed a nap, as did I, but no-one was offering to drive me around in the car while I did it.
So blah blah colour wash cut blow dry and then Sarah shows up just when I'm wailing for like the bajillionth time, "It's so shoooort!" And she was literally, "I think I need to smack you upside the head." That is a direct quote.
She was right, however, and seriously, I was not saying it didn't look amazing. It really does. At its longest length, it's not much shorter than it was. The layers make it feel shorter and, at the same time, look longer because it's not all heavy and one length and whatever. I have the awesome Whoorl sideswept bangs, and I really like the colour.
Tera was truly great. She explained why she was doing things, and how I could keep it looking the way she intended it to look, and not once did she tell me to shut up, it's not that freaking short, and if you want short young lady, I'll show you short. Her contact details are on the Hair Thursday site, so if you live in Costa Mesa or The OC or SoCal, or whatever the fuck this is, you should totally go make an appointment with her right now.
And Sarah. I don't know what I can say. She was amazing and nice and funny and generous, and she made my hair look absolutely brilliant. She totally did not have to do this for me, but I guess the moral of the story is that you should never be afraid to squeal and hug Hair Goddesses in the lobby at BlogHer.
(And tangent? I was really annoyed, because I couldn't figure out how to write this without spoiling the Amalah surprise, and then she went and left a comment on my blog, ruining the surprise, so ... guess what? I got to chat to Amalah! That post - in excruciating detail, I have no doubt - is to come.)
Later, Whoorl and Moosh In Indy held a competition, which I entered, and had no doubt I was totally going to win.
Which is why, on the last night of BlogHer, I was totally stalking the both of them so they could tell me that I won. Sadly, no. (Also sad? I never did speak to Moosh In Indy. She might be like the only one on my list that I didn't freak right the fuck out by flinging myself at while squealing.) I did not win the competition. I was very sad, but not really, because I got to talk to Whoorl!
Anyway, somehow - magically, or possibly very rudely - I invited myself or found myself invited to visit Whoorl's stylist with her and we would do a real live Hair Thursday. I know, right?!
The lovely and awesome Sarah has a post up about it over on her site. No need to watch the video. I tend to babble shit and not know where to look when a video camera is pointed at me. (Also, do I never smile?) I believe her take on it was something like, 'We only want to hear your accent! We don't care what you say!' So that was nice.
This is the actual version of what happened.
I made the appointment, after Sarah told Tera that some crazy girl was going to invade the salon and expect miracles to be worked. Tera was not actually there when I called, which gave me a teeny problem. "Whatever Sarah says" is not very helpful when they want to know what you're having done. But it was fine, and Sarah and I would meet Tera there.
Backtrack a little - some incredibly smart person left all her hair products at home. She then used her awesome roommate's hair products, which worked quite well. Said awesome roommate then ditched her for Michigan, taking her hair products with her.
Which is how I ended up buying a random curl hold thing from Rite Aid, which nearly gave Sarah and Tera heart attacks when I told them what was in my hair. Also? Out of this whole trip, when I arrived for Hair Thursday my hair has never looked crapper. I like to think it made the Before and After photos that much more dramatic, but really? You kind of want the best hair people in the world to think you're not a total hair idiot. (They did not even think that, seriously, they were freaking lovely. But still.) I got them to produce some more pained looks when I told them I'd coloured my hair myself, but they recovered and we moved on.
Sarah was all like, 'layers and bangs and oh it might look like mine, I hope that's ok.' Uh, fuck yeah. That'd be fricking amazing! And Tera was like, 'this home colour thing is killing me, I need to put some chocolate brown in there.' And I was like, 'I like chocolate!' So we were all agreed.
Tera and I got started (yes, I was working sooo hard, not) and Whoorl took off because it was too scary to watch. No, actually, Wito (freaking adorable!) needed a nap, as did I, but no-one was offering to drive me around in the car while I did it.
So blah blah colour wash cut blow dry and then Sarah shows up just when I'm wailing for like the bajillionth time, "It's so shoooort!" And she was literally, "I think I need to smack you upside the head." That is a direct quote.
She was right, however, and seriously, I was not saying it didn't look amazing. It really does. At its longest length, it's not much shorter than it was. The layers make it feel shorter and, at the same time, look longer because it's not all heavy and one length and whatever. I have the awesome Whoorl sideswept bangs, and I really like the colour.
Tera was truly great. She explained why she was doing things, and how I could keep it looking the way she intended it to look, and not once did she tell me to shut up, it's not that freaking short, and if you want short young lady, I'll show you short. Her contact details are on the Hair Thursday site, so if you live in Costa Mesa or The OC or SoCal, or whatever the fuck this is, you should totally go make an appointment with her right now.
And Sarah. I don't know what I can say. She was amazing and nice and funny and generous, and she made my hair look absolutely brilliant. She totally did not have to do this for me, but I guess the moral of the story is that you should never be afraid to squeal and hug Hair Goddesses in the lobby at BlogHer.
The Fucking Awesome Mythical Hobbit Jesus Santa Award: Jenny, the Bloggess
Thursday night at the People's Party, Tiff and I had exhausted our supply of people we could bravely approach and had heard a rumour that Jenny, the fucking awesome Bloggess was holding court in the bathroom. Since we had had a fair amount of vodka at this point and also really needed to pee, we went to investigate.
Sure enough, there she was, being all absolutely fucking hilarious and awesome.
As I kind of alluded to in my Bossy post, I basically felt that I could approach famous bloggers once, tell them I loved their writing, and then never speak to them again for the rest of the conference. Well, that didn't happen with Jory, or Bossy, and it also didn't happen with the Bloggess.
We were all brave and shit and introduced ourselves. There was a heated discussion with the Yahoo boys about them not being able to spell "Bloggess." There was singing. And, as the whole world now knows, there was boob patting.
I feel very strongly that the Bloggess had spilled something and I was helping. I don't know. It is entirely possible I just wanted to be touching her boobs. Seriously. It's very possible. How could you not?
(That seems like such a good note to end this post on, but I have more Bloggess shit to discuss.)
There was THE DRAMA at the closing keynote. Anybody still want to talk about that?
Ooh, no, first there was the Community Keynote, which was absolutely fucking amazing. I was thisclose to crying several times (but, lucky for Jory, I saved it all for her) and I also just about peed my pants laughing. At this, in particular. In my personal opinion, the Bloggess is fucking hilarious, in person and on her blog. So there. I hope I remembered to tell her that. (And she makes me say fuck a lot.)
So then it was the closing keynote, and Dooce said something about being called a hobbit by 'someone who might be in the room,' like, seriously? Of course she's in the room, and even if you didn't say her name, a decent percentage of the audience knew who had written it and who she was. But, as she acknowledged, she's still learning to cope, and I understand that people, even mythical blogger type people, make bad decisions sometimes. So, ok.
Then the Bloggess stood up and was all, 'that's not what I was saying! I fucking love you!' which, duh. And she was hilarious some more.
And then she left and we never did get to hear Dooce's response to her.
AND THEN (yeah, I'm such a fucking awesome writer right now) we ran into her in the lobby and she was crying and I just had to give her a hug and THE BLOGGESS REMEMBERED ME.
And then she posted pictures of me grabbing her boobs on her blog. And then I loved her forever, and also she moved to Australia.
Sure enough, there she was, being all absolutely fucking hilarious and awesome.
As I kind of alluded to in my Bossy post, I basically felt that I could approach famous bloggers once, tell them I loved their writing, and then never speak to them again for the rest of the conference. Well, that didn't happen with Jory, or Bossy, and it also didn't happen with the Bloggess.
We were all brave and shit and introduced ourselves. There was a heated discussion with the Yahoo boys about them not being able to spell "Bloggess." There was singing. And, as the whole world now knows, there was boob patting.
I feel very strongly that the Bloggess had spilled something and I was helping. I don't know. It is entirely possible I just wanted to be touching her boobs. Seriously. It's very possible. How could you not?
(That seems like such a good note to end this post on, but I have more Bloggess shit to discuss.)
There was THE DRAMA at the closing keynote. Anybody still want to talk about that?
Ooh, no, first there was the Community Keynote, which was absolutely fucking amazing. I was thisclose to crying several times (but, lucky for Jory, I saved it all for her) and I also just about peed my pants laughing. At this, in particular. In my personal opinion, the Bloggess is fucking hilarious, in person and on her blog. So there. I hope I remembered to tell her that. (And she makes me say fuck a lot.)
So then it was the closing keynote, and Dooce said something about being called a hobbit by 'someone who might be in the room,' like, seriously? Of course she's in the room, and even if you didn't say her name, a decent percentage of the audience knew who had written it and who she was. But, as she acknowledged, she's still learning to cope, and I understand that people, even mythical blogger type people, make bad decisions sometimes. So, ok.
Then the Bloggess stood up and was all, 'that's not what I was saying! I fucking love you!' which, duh. And she was hilarious some more.
And then she left and we never did get to hear Dooce's response to her.
AND THEN (yeah, I'm such a fucking awesome writer right now) we ran into her in the lobby and she was crying and I just had to give her a hug and THE BLOGGESS REMEMBERED ME.
And then she posted pictures of me grabbing her boobs on her blog. And then I loved her forever, and also she moved to Australia.
"Welcome to the OC, bitch."
Yes it's true, I am in Orange County, or, as no-one ever actually calls it, The OC.
In addition to my fascination with Walmart and mailboxes, it has been discovered that all of my knowledge of US geography comes from pop culture of some description, and so finding places that I recognise is also very exciting to me. This was very evident on the drive from San Francisco to LA.
(Which ... oh yeah. I was maybe going to post about that. Ok, so, very pretty drive, lots of beaches and also houses I could never afford but would love to live in, and great times with Tiff and our awesome driver Adrienne.)
Pismo Beach is from Clueless. Redondo Beach is from that Beach Boys song. San-ta Mon-i-ca Boul-e-vard is from that song. (PS, I cannot say the word, I have to sing it just like that.) I remember there were references to Felicity, Grey's Anatomy, Veronica Mars and plenty more. It's a good thing I watch TV or I would have no idea where I am right now.
I am currently in a hotel room, with my free wireless internet (which is working, ahem the Westin) and all my electronic equipment spread out around me, charging or waiting to be uploaded or whatever.
Every now and then I get a rush of something which may be hunger or it may be some slight anxiety.
I am on my own for the first time this trip (except for that lovely time I had wandering around SFO) and I am supposed to get myself from Newport Beach or wherever the hell I am to Palm Springs by Friday and to Vegas by Saturday. I do not know how to do this, and when I finish babbling crap at you, I will figure it out. So that might be what that feeling is about.
Or it could be because I had two hours of sleep and three huge glasses of vodka last night.
In addition to my fascination with Walmart and mailboxes, it has been discovered that all of my knowledge of US geography comes from pop culture of some description, and so finding places that I recognise is also very exciting to me. This was very evident on the drive from San Francisco to LA.
(Which ... oh yeah. I was maybe going to post about that. Ok, so, very pretty drive, lots of beaches and also houses I could never afford but would love to live in, and great times with Tiff and our awesome driver Adrienne.)
Pismo Beach is from Clueless. Redondo Beach is from that Beach Boys song. San-ta Mon-i-ca Boul-e-vard is from that song. (PS, I cannot say the word, I have to sing it just like that.) I remember there were references to Felicity, Grey's Anatomy, Veronica Mars and plenty more. It's a good thing I watch TV or I would have no idea where I am right now.
I am currently in a hotel room, with my free wireless internet (which is working, ahem the Westin) and all my electronic equipment spread out around me, charging or waiting to be uploaded or whatever.
Every now and then I get a rush of something which may be hunger or it may be some slight anxiety.
I am on my own for the first time this trip (except for that lovely time I had wandering around SFO) and I am supposed to get myself from Newport Beach or wherever the hell I am to Palm Springs by Friday and to Vegas by Saturday. I do not know how to do this, and when I finish babbling crap at you, I will figure it out. So that might be what that feeling is about.
Or it could be because I had two hours of sleep and three huge glasses of vodka last night.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
My First Brush With Fame Award: Bossy
On Thursday night, we went from the Newbie Party (just what it sounds like) to the People's Party (also just what it sounds like).
At the People's Party, I spent a lot of time going "Oh my god, I think that's [awesome blogger]!!!"
The very first one I could not leave without seeing was Bossy. She freaking hugged SuperTiff, and there was no way I was leaving without an intro and maybe fainting at her feet or something.
I did get the intro, and had a short chat (it was very loud in there - you drunk bitches need to learn to keep it down when Bossy and I are having a moment) and I got the impression she got the impression I was batshit insane. Whatever. I can live with that. I met Bossy!
Friday night at Ruby Skye, Tiff was all, "There's Bossy!" And I was all, "Whatever, dude, that was soooo Thursday." Not that I didn't still love Bossy, but everyone has a very short attention span at BlogHer. You have to - there's a thousand people to squeal at or demand hugs from or leave with the impression of total insanity.
Saturday night, however, I managed to spare a few more seconds to swoon in the presence of Bossy. We were walking in opposite directions and she said 'hey' TO ME (actually, now that I am thinking about it, maybe it wasn't even to me, oops) (also, despite our goal to say hi to everybody in the world, Tiff and I had already had time with Bossy, and I didn't expect any more. So don't be all, 'why didn't you say hi to her?' at me, because I already did) and so we had another very short chat where she was totally nice and awesome to me, so apparently I didn't scare her too badly before.
And I got a photo.
Bossy's Excellent Road Trip The Second: Must Include Australia.
At the People's Party, I spent a lot of time going "Oh my god, I think that's [awesome blogger]!!!"
The very first one I could not leave without seeing was Bossy. She freaking hugged SuperTiff, and there was no way I was leaving without an intro and maybe fainting at her feet or something.
I did get the intro, and had a short chat (it was very loud in there - you drunk bitches need to learn to keep it down when Bossy and I are having a moment) and I got the impression she got the impression I was batshit insane. Whatever. I can live with that. I met Bossy!
Friday night at Ruby Skye, Tiff was all, "There's Bossy!" And I was all, "Whatever, dude, that was soooo Thursday." Not that I didn't still love Bossy, but everyone has a very short attention span at BlogHer. You have to - there's a thousand people to squeal at or demand hugs from or leave with the impression of total insanity.
Saturday night, however, I managed to spare a few more seconds to swoon in the presence of Bossy. We were walking in opposite directions and she said 'hey' TO ME (actually, now that I am thinking about it, maybe it wasn't even to me, oops) (also, despite our goal to say hi to everybody in the world, Tiff and I had already had time with Bossy, and I didn't expect any more. So don't be all, 'why didn't you say hi to her?' at me, because I already did) and so we had another very short chat where she was totally nice and awesome to me, so apparently I didn't scare her too badly before.
And I got a photo.
Bossy's Excellent Road Trip The Second: Must Include Australia.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Take Her Home In My Pocket Award: Jory Des Jardin
My first award goes to the BlogHer founder I cried all over this afternoon.
We met Jory at the Newbie Mixer, and she was nice and came up and said hi, and I was impressed that the Founders were wandering and chatting, but I really shouldn't have been.
Let's fast-forward to the Macy's cocktail party.
I think we're a little past polite hellos at this point, don't you?
Jory gets this award for being one of the awesome BlogHer founders, which means it's all her fault I even came.
She gets it for being a freaking awesomely fun person to hang out with, and also because she was doing all this awesome hanging out with me.
She gets it for putting up with me telling her "I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH!" about fifty bajillion times over the course of the weekend (although, let's be honest, who doesn't want to hear that?), and for enduring me crying all over her on my way out of the hotel. And also for being the person I wanted to be crying all over at the end of it all.
Jory Des Jardin: If I could have put her in my purse and taken her everywhere with me, I totally would have. Jory, in case I didn't mention this - like, ever - I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH.
We met Jory at the Newbie Mixer, and she was nice and came up and said hi, and I was impressed that the Founders were wandering and chatting, but I really shouldn't have been.
Let's fast-forward to the Macy's cocktail party.
I think we're a little past polite hellos at this point, don't you?
Jory gets this award for being one of the awesome BlogHer founders, which means it's all her fault I even came.
She gets it for being a freaking awesomely fun person to hang out with, and also because she was doing all this awesome hanging out with me.
She gets it for putting up with me telling her "I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH!" about fifty bajillion times over the course of the weekend (although, let's be honest, who doesn't want to hear that?), and for enduring me crying all over her on my way out of the hotel. And also for being the person I wanted to be crying all over at the end of it all.
Jory Des Jardin: If I could have put her in my purse and taken her everywhere with me, I totally would have. Jory, in case I didn't mention this - like, ever - I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH.
BH&B: All Over
I am back at FCM's house. Chilling. Seriously in need of some chill-out time.
We leave San Francisco tomorrow, and we're lucky enough to get a ride in one of the GM-sponsored cars. Yay! More on that as it happens.
The conference is all over. Done. There were so many sessions and I met so many people. It was A-FREAKING-MAZING, but man, it might take me a while to post about it all.
I have decided to give out awards to people I met at the conference and maybe places and perhaps things and it should be clear that I haven't really thought this through. In addition, I will be in LA and then Vegas and then Michigan and then flying and then writing a fricking thesis, so when exactly am I going to do all this posting?
Whatever.
Point is, if you don't get posted about, it's because ... whatever. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME BUT SO VERY EXHAUSTING. Sleeeep.
We leave San Francisco tomorrow, and we're lucky enough to get a ride in one of the GM-sponsored cars. Yay! More on that as it happens.
The conference is all over. Done. There were so many sessions and I met so many people. It was A-FREAKING-MAZING, but man, it might take me a while to post about it all.
I have decided to give out awards to people I met at the conference and maybe places and perhaps things and it should be clear that I haven't really thought this through. In addition, I will be in LA and then Vegas and then Michigan and then flying and then writing a fricking thesis, so when exactly am I going to do all this posting?
Whatever.
Point is, if you don't get posted about, it's because ... whatever. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME BUT SO VERY EXHAUSTING. Sleeeep.
Friday, July 18, 2008
BH&B: Newbie Party / People's Party
Parties were awesome.
People are awesome.
There was a lot of squealing. Also alcohol.
People are awesome.
There was a lot of squealing. Also alcohol.
BH&B: CALL ME!!!
I have a new phone number for while I'm here. I wouldn't usually go around posting my phone number on the internet, but this time I actually want all you crazy (BlogHer) people to call me.
The number is:
415 254 3561
Seriously. Call me.
Or come visit. Room 1078.
The number is:
415 254 3561
Seriously. Call me.
Or come visit. Room 1078.
BH&B: What To Expect From Me At BlogHer
There are a couple of people from the blogosphere I think I would recognise. I did ok with FCM and SuperTiff at the airport. The presence of The Cutest Kid In SF helped a lot there. I would recognise a couple of Internet Rockstars. But people who don't post pictures of themselves often, yeah no way. Meaning you have to find me. This is your guide on what to look for.
Way back before I had two hours of "sleep" in thirty hours, I would have looked like this:
Now, since SF is both cold and windy, I might look more like this:
You might find me here or here:
There might be a lot of "ooh"ing at bridge!s or bussses or beep-beeps (TM The Cutest Kid In SF).
If you happen to be behind me (*cough*FCMonthecablecar*cough*), I might look something like this:
If you hear me talking, I may sound a bit Australian, as I am screaming at you "GUESS WHAT? WE'RE IN SAN FRANCISCO!!!:
And if you are really lucky, you might even get to have your photo taken with us:
So, to the 998 posts I just read that said "OMG, I'M ABOUT TO LEAVE FOR SAN FRANCISCO!" I say:Ha ha, suckers. We've already been here two days. Hurry up and get here so we can party! We can't wait to meet you. See you tonight!
Way back before I had two hours of "sleep" in thirty hours, I would have looked like this:
Now, since SF is both cold and windy, I might look more like this:
You might find me here or here:
There might be a lot of "ooh"ing at bridge!s or bussses or beep-beeps (TM The Cutest Kid In SF).
If you happen to be behind me (*cough*FCMonthecablecar*cough*), I might look something like this:
If you hear me talking, I may sound a bit Australian, as I am screaming at you "GUESS WHAT? WE'RE IN SAN FRANCISCO!!!:
And if you are really lucky, you might even get to have your photo taken with us:
So, to the 998 posts I just read that said "OMG, I'M ABOUT TO LEAVE FOR SAN FRANCISCO!" I say:
Thursday, July 17, 2008
BH&B: Auckland to San Francisco
This post was written (with pen and paper) on the plane from Auckland to San Francisco on Tuesday 15th.
VIDEO KILLED THE AEROPLANE STAR
The airline gods clearly approve of this trip. Once again, the seat next to me is free. Can I get a hell yeah?
You know, the flight attendants or stewardesses or cabin crew, or whatever they like to be called, really don't have much to do (except bring me a new I94 form because I ignored their instructions on how to fill it out). The only part of the safety demo they still physically demonstrate is where the exits are. They don't even have to mess up their hair getting the life jackets on. Also, was I the only one who giggled every time they mentioned the business class 'ottomans'? (Hee.)
I've decided I quite like flying. I like the smell. I like the food.* I like the blankets and the teeny little pillows. I like that no-one ever wants to (or, more importantly, does) sit next to me.
*Cordon bleu. And now roast lamb or ... something. (I think the fact I forgot it meant I was destined to have 'it' - fish.) And something about chocolate for dessert.
I like the free alcohol, even if I haven't taken advantage of it. (Come on, not even I am going to drink for 15 straight hours, especially with scary US immigration people at the end of it. [I had a great chat with the guy, he was awesome. He was even joking around and we messed up my photo because of it, and had to take another one. Not scary at all.]
I also like my own personal adjustable tv screen with remote control and entertainment on demand. I forsee a lot of time in the movie section. [I watched Penelope and Definitely Maybe.] So far, I've compiled my own personal playlist - some Spice Girls, little bit of Miley Cyrus, some Chris Brown, Madonna and JT, Usher, and Fergie, then some old school Abba and Bee Gees. I ran out of room for Evermore, Foo Fighters, and the Killers, but I did some shuffling and they got added.**
So far? This trip freaking rocks.
MAKE LOVE IN THIS PLANE
Track 9 in my customised playlist reads:
"Make Love In This Club - Usher feat. You..."
That right there is Usher taking the Mile High Club to a whole new level.
I finished dinner and the chick next to me (but ONE SEAT OVER!) pointed out they'd stiffed me on dessert. So I asked for one.
And then they bought me two.
And then it was triple-choc ice-cream.
And then I moved into this plane until the day I died.
The end.
Man, I have a lot to say up in the sky. I am verywitty wordy up in the sky.
PS: You try listening to the Spice Girls' Stop and not doing the actions.
WHY DO I WANT TO GO TO DISNEYLAND?
**I also like the turbulence. It's like going to a theme park! But cheaper. Or not, actually. Well, you don't have to stand in lines all day. Hmm, that doesn't work either. They don't demand a kidney for a plate of food! Wrong again, NEW ZEALAND AIRPORT'S FIVE DOLLAR CUP OF JUICE.
VIDEO KILLED THE AEROPLANE STAR
The airline gods clearly approve of this trip. Once again, the seat next to me is free. Can I get a hell yeah?
You know, the flight attendants or stewardesses or cabin crew, or whatever they like to be called, really don't have much to do (except bring me a new I94 form because I ignored their instructions on how to fill it out). The only part of the safety demo they still physically demonstrate is where the exits are. They don't even have to mess up their hair getting the life jackets on. Also, was I the only one who giggled every time they mentioned the business class 'ottomans'? (Hee.)
I've decided I quite like flying. I like the smell. I like the food.* I like the blankets and the teeny little pillows. I like that no-one ever wants to (or, more importantly, does) sit next to me.
*Cordon bleu. And now roast lamb or ... something. (I think the fact I forgot it meant I was destined to have 'it' - fish.) And something about chocolate for dessert.
I like the free alcohol, even if I haven't taken advantage of it. (Come on, not even I am going to drink for 15 straight hours, especially with scary US immigration people at the end of it. [I had a great chat with the guy, he was awesome. He was even joking around and we messed up my photo because of it, and had to take another one. Not scary at all.]
I also like my own personal adjustable tv screen with remote control and entertainment on demand. I forsee a lot of time in the movie section. [I watched Penelope and Definitely Maybe.] So far, I've compiled my own personal playlist - some Spice Girls, little bit of Miley Cyrus, some Chris Brown, Madonna and JT, Usher, and Fergie, then some old school Abba and Bee Gees. I ran out of room for Evermore, Foo Fighters, and the Killers, but I did some shuffling and they got added.**
So far? This trip freaking rocks.
MAKE LOVE IN THIS PLANE
Track 9 in my customised playlist reads:
"Make Love In This Club - Usher feat. You..."
That right there is Usher taking the Mile High Club to a whole new level.
I finished dinner and the chick next to me (but ONE SEAT OVER!) pointed out they'd stiffed me on dessert. So I asked for one.
And then they bought me two.
And then it was triple-choc ice-cream.
And then I moved into this plane until the day I died.
The end.
Man, I have a lot to say up in the sky. I am very
PS: You try listening to the Spice Girls' Stop and not doing the actions.
WHY DO I WANT TO GO TO DISNEYLAND?
**I also like the turbulence. It's like going to a theme park! But cheaper. Or not, actually. Well, you don't have to stand in lines all day. Hmm, that doesn't work either. They don't demand a kidney for a plate of food! Wrong again, NEW ZEALAND AIRPORT'S FIVE DOLLAR CUP OF JUICE.
BH&B: Adelaide to Auckland
This post was written (with pen and paper) on the plane from Adelaide to Auckland on Tuesday 15th.
THE MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE
I doubt I'll get any sympathy from any working/parent type people, but I had to wake up at 7am today.
I showered, dressed, and packed, and I even remembered my toothbrush. I was still debating my packing choices with myself in the shower, like, shouldn't you already have this sorted?
I had my last vegemite crust in Australia, at least for the next three weeks, and discovered the Housemates had left me a goodbye note tacked to the door. Considering I haven't spent much time with either of them lately, I thought that was nice. They might just be glad to get rid of me.
TO THE AIRPORT ... AND BEYOND!
Shelle came and picked me up right on time, because she is awesome and I love her. By this point, breakfast and Hannah Montana had calmed my stomach and all was well. Until we walked to the car and my laptop strap broke.
1. It's not even unusable, merely inconvenient.
2. I bought a new one at the airport, in lieu of a bottle of kahlua, so now I have a quasi spare if I need it.
3. If this has taken care of the inevitable something that goes wrong, I'm ok with that.
Shelle and I (by which I mean Shelle) got coffee (well, I got a milkshake) and they disappointed me by giving us a number instead of letting me give them my fake name. ("Hi! I'm Kylie!") Everyone should have a fake name. For Starbucks and randoms.
Had a phone call with Carla, because she is also awesome and I love her. I discovered the following:
~ She is a Birthday Extremist. Be proud, sister. That's just how we roll.
~ I am an idiot.
~ Tuesday the 4th of August does not exist in this year. (See above.)
Watched a little kid repeatedly punch his dad, asking, "Does this hurt?" every time. I'll show you what hurts, kid. When he pulled back his fist and asked the mum, she shut him down so fast. So he turned back to the dad and kept going with him. Great parenting, guys. (Thankfully, the kid is nowhere near me on the plane, as far as I can tell.)
I am now in seat 25A. In a great start to the trip, the two seats next to me were empty! I say 'were' because the second the seatbelt light went off some bitch from across the aisle took the end of my row. She's probably watching me write this. Hi, bitch! I had plans for these seats! Piss off! Love ya!
Since I am uninterested in their movie (College Road Trip? Is that even a real movie?) I am going to read some Sherlock Holmes and work on my thesis. ... Ok, you guys finish laughing and I'll be back later.
PS: I'M GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO!!!
THE MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE
I doubt I'll get any sympathy from any working/parent type people, but I had to wake up at 7am today.
I showered, dressed, and packed, and I even remembered my toothbrush. I was still debating my packing choices with myself in the shower, like, shouldn't you already have this sorted?
I had my last vegemite crust in Australia, at least for the next three weeks, and discovered the Housemates had left me a goodbye note tacked to the door. Considering I haven't spent much time with either of them lately, I thought that was nice. They might just be glad to get rid of me.
TO THE AIRPORT ... AND BEYOND!
Shelle came and picked me up right on time, because she is awesome and I love her. By this point, breakfast and Hannah Montana had calmed my stomach and all was well. Until we walked to the car and my laptop strap broke.
1. It's not even unusable, merely inconvenient.
2. I bought a new one at the airport, in lieu of a bottle of kahlua, so now I have a quasi spare if I need it.
3. If this has taken care of the inevitable something that goes wrong, I'm ok with that.
Shelle and I (by which I mean Shelle) got coffee (well, I got a milkshake) and they disappointed me by giving us a number instead of letting me give them my fake name. ("Hi! I'm Kylie!") Everyone should have a fake name. For Starbucks and randoms.
Had a phone call with Carla, because she is also awesome and I love her. I discovered the following:
~ She is a Birthday Extremist. Be proud, sister. That's just how we roll.
~ I am an idiot.
~ Tuesday the 4th of August does not exist in this year. (See above.)
Watched a little kid repeatedly punch his dad, asking, "Does this hurt?" every time. I'll show you what hurts, kid. When he pulled back his fist and asked the mum, she shut him down so fast. So he turned back to the dad and kept going with him. Great parenting, guys. (Thankfully, the kid is nowhere near me on the plane, as far as I can tell.)
I am now in seat 25A. In a great start to the trip, the two seats next to me were empty! I say 'were' because the second the seatbelt light went off some bitch from across the aisle took the end of my row. She's probably watching me write this. Hi, bitch! I had plans for these seats! Piss off! Love ya!
Since I am uninterested in their movie (College Road Trip? Is that even a real movie?) I am going to read some Sherlock Holmes and work on my thesis. ... Ok, you guys finish laughing and I'll be back later.
PS: I'M GOING TO SAN FRANCISCO!!!
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