It’s been over a week (yes, I did just check the calendar to make sure my math was correct) since BlogHer ’10 ended, and the posts and discussions are still rolling in. To be honest, I didn’t have enough forethought to plan a summary post, and I didn’t think most of my readers (YOU Awesome people) would want to hear all about the debauchery and learning stuff if you didn’t go. Which, HELLO? You need to go. Forget about the money or the family obligations or the other myriad of excuses. You should go.
This is my response to the BlogHer ’10 response posts.
There are 1 of 2, or maybe 2 of 2, reasons I don’t see the negative. Either I’m not smart enough to realize it’s happening, or my head is firmly affixed above the clouds and I thinks WAY too much about the good that I’m seeing.
OR, there’s a 3rd, and much more likely, reason: that I’m so narcissistic and worried about my own anxiety issues that I’m stuck thinking about me and only me and how I’m going to make it from my room to the next location without making an ass out of myself by accidentally ignoring someone I like or tripping on my sore feet and splatting my face on the floor.
I don’t see the negative at the conferences. I’m constantly scanning the throngs of people, seeking out someone I know or someone I wanted to meet. And really, can we all have our blog header and/or Twitter avatar and/or Twitter name plastered to our foreheads so I know who you are? I’m looking for the people I WANT to meet and not what I don’t want to see.
I don’t think I’m making any sense.
This is not new.
So when I read the post BlogHer posts about how blogging is changing (true fact) and how “this” shouldn’t have happened “there” and how private parties suck (no they don’t) and how people are assholes (they are), I think to my wee-brain self,
“Self, were we at the same place these people were? How did we miss all of this?”
And then I remind myself that we do what we want, we take nuggets of Awesome away from different situations, and we really aren’t negatively affected by the weirdness.
The “we” meaning me, myself, and I. We’re crazy like that.
OR, my final theory on all of the negativity: 2500 people who all spend 360 days a year alone in our houses typing away at our keyboards are suddenly out of our element, thrust into a 24/7 need-to-be-social environment, and when we return back home, we’re all in a state of debauchery recovery for at least 2 weeks.
Or maybe that’s just me.