I may be the only blogger not going batty at the prospect of landing in New York next week for the BlogHer conference. It’s not that I’m not doing the happy dance at the prospect of meeting my TBFF and writing partner, Juliette, in person for the first time. It’s not that I don’t like a good obessive freak-fest about which outfit to wear for what since I am famous for putting on mascara and lipstick just to go buy a gallon of milk at Walgreens. And it isn’t that I’m not looking forward to doing that whole Social Media thing in person with as many bloggers as my little Social Butterfly wings can get me to before the festivities come to an end.

But it is that I’m knee-deep in trying to pack a suitcase for 17 days for a combined family vacation to Michigan, where I’m landing on Tuesday to drop off Buttercup, with enough crap for me, The Husband, and the princess-child. It is that I’d like to bitch-slap The Husband for booking me a flight that requires me to get Buttercup out of bed at 4 so we can be at the airport by 5 and because said flight includes a 37 minute layover which I’m supposed to navigate with a toddler, our carry-ons, and a stroller in an airport I’ve never been to. It is because I’m not going to be able to breathe until I’m safely on the second flight because of the anxiety I’ll have about not making that second flight. It is because I know that for 6 hours, I’m going to be going absolutely senile trying to keep up with Buttercup’s “But why’s” and “Mama! Mama!” because I won’t have The Husband to play relief.  It is because I just finished a book and have my head so far into queries and agents and submission guidelines that I can’t see pass the words “Dear (Insert Agent Name Here).”

And until I land in Michigan, I won’t actually have a real moment to concentrate on the flight that takes me to New York City. A moment to myself. A moment to realize I’m actually going to BlogHer. And I’m actually going to meet Juliette after a year of a social media match made in heaven all day Gmail conversations that eventually went beyond the expected formality of actually saying good-bye when one of us needed to, you know, pee. Watch out, baby…the Mexi-fro is a site to behold in person. Trust me. The photos did not do it justice.

So until I get beyond Round 1 of my traveling craziness, I won’t be able to properly freak for Round 2 of BlogHer bliss. Until then, it’s all about keeping tabs on my sanity.

 

There’s a certain writer who’s memoirs I used to devour. Each and every book made me feel like I was having a conversation with a really good girlfriend…with toe-nail painting and glasses of wine and the gab-fest spanning into the wee hours of the morning.

And when I found this writer on twitter, I went all fan-girl and followed. Fast. But I didn’t send a tweet right away. I didn’t want to seem desperate, you now.

Instead, I waited for one of her tweets to come across that seemed a natural for a response from a fan. I wasn’t too surprised when I didn’t get an immediate tweet back. I have 2 thousand followers. She has, um, way more than that. But I still had hope since I saw plenty of interaction with other fans. Maybe I just hadn’t said anything interesting yet.

So I tried again.

And again.

And again.

Still.

Nothing.

Coincidentally, I had just purchased one of this writer’s books. I had made it to the second chapter in the book right around the time I started talking to myself on twitter, and found myself wanting to pick up the book less and less with each ignored tweet.

Granted, the account may be manned by an assistant. Or maybe my stuff just isn’t being seen for some reason. God knows how many tweets this writer has coming in any given moment from adoring fans. But no matter how I rationalized not being acknowledged, I was still finding myself less and less interested in reading that book.

It took a conversation with TBFF Juliette for me to figure out why. I was rambling, like I usually do, about Stuff that Doesn’t Matter, including this very topic, when I suddenly had an epiphany. (That automatically made this a blog post because I don’t have those very often.)

“I know I’m not famous or anything, but I see her interact with other regular people.” I said. “But she writes memoir! That alone is like being allowed to peek inside her head. And not even getting a single “hi” or even a “thanks for the tweet!” makes me feel like she doesn’t want me there.”

“Makes sense,” Juliette said.

“It does?” I was stunned I said something that qualified. “Wait! It does! If she was writing fiction, I wouldn’t be nearly as annoyed. Fiction writers create worlds, but they don’t take you inside their own. And to me, it only makes sense to try and interact fully, if interacting at all, to make sure fans feel like that world is accessible. Instead of welcome, I feel like I’m eavesdropping on a private conversation with the rest of the world every time I try to open that book back up.”

 

Sometimes, good things happen to really good people. And this time, I happen to consider one of these good people as a true friend.

My TBFF, writing partner, and all-around sounding board, Juliette Terzieff, has been selected as a finalist for the BlogHer Voices of the Year competition. Thousands entered. Juliette made the short list. This is a major accomplishment and I am so very proud of her.

Please take a look at Juliette’s entry here and, if you are so inclined, leave a congratulatory comment for the super star.

She’s going places. I know it. And I can say I knew her when, which honestly, is pretty awesome in and of itself.

Oh and Juliette? Your first BlogHer drink is on me.  High fives, babe.

 

After two tantrums and a pouting session, I got a new video camera. I’ve got two here at home (one which I don’t trust and the other which is such an annoying shade of pink that I was hard-pressed for coming up with an actual reason for needing a new one) which made my case almost impossible to prove with The Husband.

“I want a insert brand name here video camera.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what everyone else on twitter is taking to Blogher.”

“But isn’t insert brand name here the one that glitched out on you when you tried uploading Priceless Memories a few years ago and haven’t used it since because you stopped trusting it when you lost all the video?”

“Well…yes.”

“So why do you want the new version?”

“Because that’s what everyone else on twitter is taking to BlogHer.”

And by everyone, I mean the two conversations I’ve had or witnessed with two separate people all giddy about the video camera that The Husband flat-out refused to buy for me after some online research, product review homework, and his final verdict. But he had no problem buying me another brand, which he said was Better because it did insert technical jargon here and blah blah blah and I didn’t give a damn because I was regressing to being a 6 year-old again. We went to the store, left with The Husband-approved camera, swiped the credit card, and came home with a camera  I didn’t even want to play with because it wasn’t.the.one.I.wanted.

To be fair, I did give it a shot. At swim class with Buttercup. On the way home from a long day out with photos and video of some awesome cloud and rain action over the mountains. And then whenever The Husband was home, just so he could see I gave it a fair chance before telling him I just wasn’t that into it.

Turns out I didn’t have to.

“If you don’t like it, we’ll just return it and you can take both of your old cameras to BlogHer and you should be fine.”

Sure they are teeny and sure, three total hours of video is a lot when you consider the actual length of most videos I’d ever be taking. But the sheer inconvenience of having to lug two embarrassingly obsolete models with me to New York was enough to take me back to the moment my father tried convincing me that the knock-offs from Pay-Less were just as Totally Cool as the K-Swiss the rest of my middle school class was wearing. I wasn’t buying it.

So I pouted.

The Husband rolled his eyes, sighed, looked up at the ceiling as if to ask God why, and reminded me he had no problem buying me a different camera to replace my dinosaurs, but no way in hell was he buying me an insert brand name here because insert brand name here sucks ass in his humble opinion, and that would be a ridiculous waste of money.

And, more importantly, he now wanted an actual reason…like…one that would hold up in court, for why exactly I needed a new camera when I had at least one that actually worked, even if it was a sickening shade of pink and only took two hours of video with no expandable memory.

This is when I got quiet. It was essentially my last bite at the apple, and it had to be good. The Husband can spot bullshit a mile away, too, which makes my life very difficult and forces me to be creative.

So I thought up this list in my head:

* What if I meet the Manic Mommies and my blackberry (the only device I currently use to upload any images into my blog) fails me, leaving me with an awesome story and no proof?

* I need to be able to count on the fact that I can document meeting Juliette for the first time after spending a zillion minutes in contact with her over the past year, committing to writing a book with her (after Baby F(Ph)at is done, people…keep your panties on), publicly declaring her my TBFF (click the link and think about it for a minute, if you are confused.)

* I want to start posting vlogs on Aspiring Mama geared for the writing peeps. And I’d like to be able to do that without having to rely on someone else to be here to film me or having to contort myself into advanced yoga positions to do so.

* I want…

And this is where I got interrupted because it turns out I was verbally reciting my list as I thought it silently in my head, and I’d finally said something that The Husband thought was a valid Reason.

So we got in the car. We drove to Best Buy. And I came home with a Sony Bloggie.

I am happy because:

* It’s cute.

* It has a cute name.

* I can film myself without having to contort into advanced yoga positions.

and because

* my accountant will accept this blog post as a reason to add the Sony Bloggie to my tax write-off list for the coming year.

So stay tuned. I’ll eventually post something on here that involves a bit less text. Feel free to lie and tell me it Doesn’t Suck when I do.

 

Once I figured out I was going to BlogHer10, I had a new slew of crazy to add to my regular To-Do List. And even though I’m still navigating the joys of cross-country childcare, a trip top Michigan to drop off Buttercup so I can hope another plane to NYC from there after she’s safe and sound with my mom, and of course, figuring out how much it’s all going to cost me when I finally book a plane ticket, I can  still call it good.

After all, I’ve got my self-proclaimed official BlogHer10 Blog Bling from Survival of The Hippest in my hot little hands.

Yeah, I know I still have to arrange for dog care, call a neighbor to pick up the mail, have someone else stop by to feed Buttercup’s new Birthday Fish, and make sure another someone else is on standby to dispose of the body and run out for Emergency Backup Birthday Fish should Original Birthday Fish not survive to two-week trip to Michigan that’s sandwiching my BlogHer10 festivities…

But let’s concentrate on my new shiny, pretty, Sparklies.

It keeps me calm, people. It keeps me calm.

First up we have my super-awesome-because-it’s-mine key chain. This bad boy is made of sterling silver, spelled correctly, and sure to reflect all known sources of light from that mega-huge purse that I’m still looking for, because that’s where I plan to hang it.

And you can bet your ass I plan on working it into the conversation if this conversation-starter just happens to go unnoticed.

Hi! Nice to meet you! My name is Pauline and I’m Aspiring Mama on Twitter.” Smile, smile, gush, gush, chuckle for effect. “Lemme get you a business card from my purse. Oh this?” Bigger smile as the camera pans in. “It’s my new twitter bling from Survival of the Hippest. No, they didn’t sponsor. I paid my own moolah. But that’s cuz I love them!

What do you mean, actually use it as a key chain? Are you crazy? Oh no! This baby stays on my purse, where it can be protected, fawned over, and shown off on a regular basis, but thanks for asking!

The bracelet, while super awesome in and of itself, could be attributed to allowing myself to hit SUBMIT ORDER before letting myself think the whole process through. My friend and BlogHer10 roomie, Juliette, just spent a very reasonable amount of money on business cards and other Things That Make Sense. I? spent a very unreasonable amount of money on Things That Don’t.

And here’s the beauty of it, folks.  I still feel good about it. Because thanks to Survival of the Hippest, I can count on making an impression even if I don’t squee, fan-girl, or otherwise make an ass of myself.

But since we all know I’ll be doing plenty of all of those, I can now safely say all my bases are covered.

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