Letter B

BlogHer '09: Way More Than Bags Of Crap

My BlogHer this year was pretty much a big sundae with a thousand cherries on top. I know there have been some reports of swaghogging and general misbehavior and/or cliqueishness but my own experience was incredibly positive. That's not to say I didn't experience moments of social anxiety or feelings of inadequacy or even experience times when I wished I had never heard of BlogHer or the Internet. But on the whole it was as it has been the last two years: an experience I wouldn't miss for the world.

If nothing else, I got to talk and listen about blogging, social media, and the Internet-technology-at-large for 3 whole days. For the rest of the 362 days out of the year I get very few opportunities to get my geek on so BlogHer is a pretty fun place for someone like me. And if that weren't enough I get to see all my friends from inside the computer in one place. For a whole weekend. WITH BOOZE, a lot of it FREE. I'm sorry, but if you know me you are probably shaking your head in disbelief that I ever came home.

My panel on microblogging went really well and it was incredibly fun to do. Which, honestly, surprised me because I was pretty nervous beforehand. But often when I am sitting in audience at the panels I wish I could just chime in on the conversation whenever I want and this time I could chime in to my heart's content. That was really fun. Especially because I was having a conversation with such interesting women, both on the panel and in the audience. I hope that I added some new insight on why microblogging (i.e. Twitter) is such a compelling format. I know that I learned a lot from Erin, Susan and Lucretia as well as from everyone who spoke from the room. I would love to do it again and I sincerely hope I get the opportunity.

The other panels that really stood out for me were The Transformational Power of Blogging, Women of Color and Marketing, and  Dying is Easy, Comedy is Hard. All were really interesting with fascinating women on the panels. Women of Color and Marketing may have been my very favorite and not because HeatherB is my friend and Thruway neighbor or because Karen Waldron called me a genius when I stood up to ask a question (whereupon I lied down and whispered into the mike that God could take me now) but because of my absolute conviction that the world we live in now is a far better place than the world we were living in just two years ago. I left the panel brimming with optimism, which with me is no mean feat. Then again the comedy panel might win as favorite for the motherf*cking LULZ. Holy crap did these women bring it. I was truly laughing my ass off as I was sitting on a very hard floor (another totally overflowing room). It was totally inspiring and made me want badly to strive to improve my funny. But then again the stories in the Transformational Power panel had me weeping. Listening to Kate from Sweet|Salty made me want to kiss the Internet on the lips. It is a completely transformative medium in the adept's hands. And, boy howdy, is she ever an adept.

Other highlights were both speeches and spaces. Like last year, the Community Keynote was a knock-out. Amazing stories told by incredibly brave people. My only criticism was that they did not hand out Kleenex and I had to keep bumming it off JenB. (Hello? Kimberly-Clark? I am no marketing whiz but I know an branding opportunity when I see it.) And the Saturday morning keynote with Tina Brown, Donna Byrd, and Ilene Chaiken was outstanding. When Tina Brown started things off by saying that she would never want to go back to print my jaw went crashing into my cherry danish. And it pretty much stayed there. The Shutter Sisters suite was an oasis in the chaos. Seeing Tracey and Jen again was a treat and they and the other sisters were so generous with the space. And Isabel and her cohorts outdid themselves with the CheeseburgHer party as well as the Recovery Breakfast in the presidential f-ing suite. Fabulous doesn't even cut it.

As wonderful as the panels and keynotes and as fun as the parties and the bags of free stuff can be the sundae cherries that were the sweetest were my old friends and my brand new ones. So many awesome friends.The parties? They were fun because my friends were there and I met all kinds of new friends. The late night Chi Bar scene? Fun because I was with my friends. The musical chairs seating at breakfast? Great because I met cool new people at random.The run to Walgreens for Visine? Fun because my friends reminded me to get Advil too. I can't, and won't, list everyone because it's late and I'll forget someone incredibly wonderful and I can't stand that. You'll see many, but by no means all, on my Flickr stream (if I ever finish uploading, which feels unlikely right now). But I will mention just one: my sister, Kara, made it this year and that was the cherry de la cherry. She took BlogHer by storm and I fully expect everyone to be saying "aren't you Kara's sister?" next year. Next year? New York City, kids. She'll be coming. And I hope you will be too. We'll have a blast. If you can get me to shut up about the Internet for five minutes.

 

Wheels Down

In Chicago and ready to rumble. If you're going to be at BlogHer I can't wait to see you or meet you. My panel is on Friday at 2:45. Please come and laugh at my jokes. Zoinks!

Good Gravy

Lowell came home from daycamp yesterday with a pretty high fever, but with no other real symptoms (you know, other than an inability to do anything besides sit on the couch, chug pedialyte, and whine for more Sponge Bob). One of his friends had just come down with the same kind of weird fever the day before so I really was not that concerned. I gave into his whims, fed him soup for dinner, dosed him with Motrin and sent him to bed early. A few hours later I heard him wake up and run into the bathroom and then I heard a panicky whimper for me to come up. I ran upstairs and he was sitting on the bathroom floor completely glassy-eyed and red faced and so hot to the touch that I started running a bath before even reaching for the thermometer. When I took his temperature it was 105+ which, um, yeah, HIGH. His hands and feet were slightly swollen and he was red all over and obviously distressed and confused by it all. This is where I should mention that Matthew was in the city and I was home alone. Unsweet!

Everything turned out fine. His fever dropped right away after the bath and his pediatrician said to just keep an eye on him and bring him in the next day. Since he had no other pain or symptoms at all I really never felt any panic. It was just a spike, a scary spike, but nothing more. By the time I checked on him before getting in bed he was completely cool and normal feeling. Thinking about it today though, I am surprised that I wasn't more freaked out. It always surprises me when I react calmly in a stressful situation. It's one thing to just be calm for the kids while you're freaking the fuck out on the inside but this time I honestly never got there. And lord knows I can get there. Why, I feel panicky all the time!  But when I look at the pattern of my anxiety it almost always strikes when everything is fine. I know what this is about (blah, blah, blah, therapy-talk, hi, I've been in therapy) and yet I still have trouble not feeling the creep of panic when all systems are go. For instance for months now I have been (silently, secretly) afraid that something was physically wrong with Lowell (based on NOTHING at all in reality) and feeling all manner of anxiety over it and suddenly he gets a 105 fever and I'm all, hey, no problem! I wish I could channel real-crisis-me when when fake-crisis-me starts getting my google on late at night, right before bed. Actually, I could do that, that's what I have been taught to do, but it's hard. Yep, being mentally healthy is hard.

Gah. Two heavy posts in a row! This always happens when I start forcing myself to post. Okay, gratuitous cute picture! I should just carry this picture around in a little glass case marked "Break In Case Of The Howling Fantods¹" 

¹ Infinite Jest reference right there. More on how that's going later.

The Past Is A Foreign Country

This picture showed up in my inbox today from our friend Joey who just got it himself from a mutual friend. A long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long time ago Joey organized a sail on a schooner around lower Manhattan for a bunch of friends and co-workers. Just because. Just because we all lived our lives by the water but rarely went out on it to get a good look at our beautiful city. I have lots of memories from this cruise but one of the most vivid was a gorgeous sunset as we sailed through New York Harbor towards the the Narrows. Matthew and I had just started living together at this point and our future together was slowly taking shape. The one part of the future that we never imagined is obvious in this shot. It's a picture from a world that's gone. Our private world and the world over Matthew's shoulder. It's both an image I want to put at the bottom of a box in the back of a closet and one I could stare at all night.

Constructive Summer

Matthew is finally done with school and now we can get this summer started. And by "started" I mean let's break out the Sheetrock! Last year we did no summer projects on purpose. This year, not so lucky.  We have a list of what that stretches into infinity and beyond. (I was going to christen this summer "The Summer of Noggin" but I think it might turn out to be "The Summer of Toy Story 2.") The fraction that will actually be accomplished is probably about 0.001%. And that would be a good number. This is when I wish we could just hire a crew, give them some plans, a sack of dough and then fuck off to the Cape for a couple months. .... Sorry, still reveling in that fantasy. Just give me one more second... Okay. I'm back. Dammit.

So anyway, yes, the List. We decided the most important thing on it is to get the kids into the same room. And because this requires a little demolition it's obviously the one Matthew wants to do first. (The man teaches ninth graders. He has some tension to release.) Right now Willa sleeps in a dormer room that is off our bedroom. (Saying it's a room is generous, it's basically a closet with a window.)  This little nook was created by the previous owners who walled off the dormer from another bedroom (Lowell's) and opened up a new door from our bedroom. We plan on tearing down the false wall, boarding up the door and returning the bedrooms to their original state. (Why am I using all these words? What is this, the 19th century? Pictures here if you prefer visuals.) This will make Lowell's bedroom bigger and we'll basically just keep Willa's crib where it is now and voila! They share a room. On the one hand I know getting Willa into another room and out of ours is a good thing. There is just a curtain separating us from her which was lovely when she was a baby (and not in bed with us which wasn't often.) But these days it is starting to feel a little flimsy. We want our room back so we can stop worrying about making noise or keeping the light on (walka-chicka wahh). We both feel like it's a good time to do this since we'll have time to adjust before we do any travel. And yet. And yet. I am having trouble. I don't want to say goodbye to the baby stage and this feels like we're taking a sledgehammer to the five minutes of babyhood she has left. (Okay, a sawzall, it really is a flimsy little wall.) I keep coming up with things to procrastinate the task but Matthew's not buying it. It starts tomorrow unless I chain myself to the wall. Which I won't do. But I will be sorely tempted. Goodbye, little nursery. I will miss you so.