I know…  What? Huh?

But I say that because when you look at the posts, obviously it’s been taken hostage by Twitter.  Because the Twitter Posts outnumber the actual real blog posts like, almost 3 to 1.  Because, you know, any moron can type 140 characters. 

Hi, I’m a moron.

But it takes a little more to do a real post.  Like thought.  Or at least an idea.  That can’t be said in 140 characters.  And also, there’s that problem I have with attention span.

What? Where? Ooh, shiny!

Oh, sorry, where were we? 

So I guess I’m not quite as upset as I might be about not going to BlogHer ‘09.  What with the whole "I’m still unemployed" thing, and of course there’s the "my spouse is unemployed" thing, and then there’s the "not having the money for it" thing.  But most importantly, there’s the whole "my blog sucks these days" thing.  Yeah, there’s that.  That’s a biggie.  Because, while I’m really happy that Dooce is #26, I really don’t think that I have a shirt big enough to show my ranking in the "Most Powerful Women in Media" list.  Can you be in negative numbers on that?  Because I am.  Or my blog is anyway.  So, again, I’m kinda glad I’m not going.  Because all it would do is make me feel bad about my blog.  And I certainly don’t need extra guilt.

Remember, I have a Mom.

Oh, hi Mom!  Just kidding!  And BTW thanks for continuing to read me.  You and the mystery reader in Belgium are the bright spots in my statcounter, every day.

Meanwhile, maybe next year we can have a "Tweet-Her"?  I can so totally do that.

Maybe.

Ooohh, shiny!

Mmmmm, okay, bye.

Okay, so, my take-away from BlogHer was mixed.  I loved the meetings, the women were fabulous, but I didn’t come away with the feeling that I was a good contributing member of their tribe.  In fact, I actually walked away with the feeling that I was writing what might be considered by everyone who counts to be somewhat less than a good blog.  So I’m still trying to sort out my feelings and determine what my real take-away should have been, rather than this icky drag-down I got.  And before you say anything, remember, feelings aren’t wrong.  They belong to me, I’m the one feeling them, and they exist in a vacuum of sorts.  To explain further, here’s my tale.

From the beginning of the morning, my feeling of blog=epic fail was something that started off with my first conversation.  Because after they managed to read my "long as a country mile" url, they’d smile and say "so, what is your blog about?  What’s your niche?  Then they’d act all puzzled or uncomfortable when my answer wasn’t precise, clearcut, or exact.   Huh?  You mean you want me to file myself into a cutesy, free-range, chemical-free box, made from organic bunny poop and ribbons, that I buy off of etsy?  Wow!  How is it that I missed the memo on that?  And then, in the next session, I learned two points.  One: by not niche blogging, by not sticking to one area of concentration, I’m damaging my brandability and I’m producing a product that isn’t user-friendly or desirable to sponsorship.  I’m thinking that’s why Guy Kawasaki didn’t return my calls about Alltop, not that he’s allergic to flatulent French Bulldogs?  And the second point was that it was important to make my blog personal, about me, because that’s what people want to read.  Single niche, personal, kindness-focused?  And to prove that point, there were over a hundred happy shiny faces there, blogging about one thing only, and being amazingly successful in the process.  So, I’m thinking that this means I should delete "the house" and my blog will be a fanboy site for Elmo? ALL GIGGLES ALL THE TIME!  Srsly, WTF?  Me?  Um, no.  That’s not my mojo.  Never has been, never will be.  Sorry. 

I guess I was hoping that the leaders of the conference section would be talking to me, and to all the others like me.  People who aren’t dreaming of being the next Dooce.  People who just have stuff to say, and we’re saying it the best we can, on our own personal soapboxes, and when we aren’t then we post bad photoshop pictures of Johnny McCain, or zombies, or penguins.  Penguins are nice too.  Really, I’m sure you’ve been in the dark about this long enough, so I guess it’s time to confess, this blog is my non-stop therapy session.  It’s also my place to let out all the many voices in my head.  Oh, and it also makes a really nifty placemat or hat.  And I’m sure there’d be more of you reading if I did more careful consideration and audience targeting, or if I could ever figure out that cute little thing called SEO (it’s not a candy or anything condoms prevent, that much I have ruled out).  But, truly, I do my best writing when I’m full-on ranting, off the cuff, off the top of my head.  When I see the terrible or the inane and I immediately sit down and type my heart out about it.  Because that’s when you know it’s my heart that’s writing, not my pursuit of the all-mighty dollar.  And that’s when you truly understand that my blog is a perfect reflection of me… grammatical errors, zits, AD ooh shiny, and imperfections included.  That’s probably why I haven’t been more focused on monetizing this thing, because I’m too focused on writing it.  Too focused on words. 

Which leads me to the part of my campaign for acceptance where I make you some commitments in exchange for your undying loyalty.  Things I can promise that you’ll never find on here: a cause-of-the-week thing, because I’m just not that person and because I would prefer to continue doing my good deeds quietly, not with a parade and four write-ups in the paper.  I will also promise that I will always tell you exactly what I think about anything I choose to discuss on here.  And you can take it to the bank that I’m not exagerrating any part of who I am in order to stir up controversy or inflame you more.  This blog is me.  If you know my blog, you know me.  I can be outrageous, with a wicked sense of humor, and I have a mastery of sarcasm that knows no bounds.  To add to that, I accessorize well and I really love shoes and Sephora, see, just like a real girl!  Oh, and I do cuss like a sailor, can hold a grudge better than most anybody, and I’m very tender-hearted and will cry at the most random things you could imagine.  I love my family, annoy the shit out of most of them for multiple reasons, and will inflict serious bodily harm to anyone that hurts any of them. 

So, with all that, why would I change anything?  To make money off of something I do for love?  That would be like making Mabel and Lulu dance on the corner for nickels in order to pay for their dog treats. Um, no.  I would much rather see them dance just for the joy of being alive.  That’s why I write.  Because I love it.  And I hope you love reading it too. 

But because I want to show you that I care what my readers think, here’s a poll.  Let me know what you think about the blog and whether you think it should be changed in any way.  Go ahead, I’ve got on my asbestos drawers, flame my ass all you want! 

1. The blog is perfect! I love you and it!  By the way, I also think that you fart cotton candy and rainbows!
2. Seriously, is this a blog? I thought this was a creative writing exercise for the local mental health facility.  Or visual evidence that 1000 monkeys typing for 1000 days really won’t write Shakespeare. 
3. What’s a blog? I was just looking at the Google and found you instead. Why did you hijack the Google? I know it’s another one of those Obama tricks.
4. Blue 

Operators are standing by to take your calls.  I look forward to your response.

And we’re home.  What a trip! Really!  WHAT. A. TRIP!  Learned a lot, met so many dynamic fun women which included some idols of mine from Twitter and the Blogosphere, spent lots of quality time with Cathy and Sarah, oh and saw my country’s capitol in a whirlwind 4 hour tour that did not include a trip to any of the fabulous boutiques in either Georgetown or Chevy Chase (boo hiss).  There, that’s the trip, in 50 words or less.  Good?  Okay, cyabai!

Ha ha, you never thought I’d shut up that fast, did you? Really?  Um, no.  Since I still can’t talk with my mouth, I’m talking with my fingers today.  And there’s so much to tell.  Like that time, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, when I was tweeting, taking a picture, and juggling two other cameras all at the same time, and I faceplanted onto the steps.  Bet you saw that one coming?  Right?  Yep, that was me, kissing concrete like I was meeting the Queen of Sukmukdikistan, eating pavement like it’s Captain Crunch, and instead of worrying about my physical condition, my main concern was whether my Blackberry or my Canon and telephoto lens survived the trip.  Oh, and seeing the Limos outside of the Willard!  Finally I found out where the limo drivers keep the flags that they screw into those mounts on the front of their cars – under the hood, rolled up and ready to go!  Spoiler Alert – they have flags for everywhere, not country-specific, bunch of ho’s!  Oh, and we jaywalked once to cross the road, flouting custom and law, but we kept a weather eye peeled for for diplomatic plates.  Why?  Well, because everybody knows those f-ers are crazy and they don’t have to follow the law!  Speaking of laws, we not only saw where laws are voted on – you know, the Capitol, and we also saw where laws are actually written – K Street!  Oh, and keep this on the downlow, but I  think we might have accidentally discovered the location for one of the entrances to Dick Cheney’s secret bunker.  Don’t laugh!  It’s true!  After careful observation, I’m thinking it’s the underground elevator located right beside the Lincoln Memorial Hotdog Stand.  You know, the hotdog stand whose slogan is: "fourscore and seven hotdogs here, hot now!!!!" They’ve cleverly disguised the elevator as a garbage depot, but I’m thinking it’s Dick’s escape hatch/quickie lunchspot.

Other things I learned at BlogHer are:  you can live off of Nerds, Macaroni and Cheese, Yellow M & M’s, and French Fries.  The Gap is located on the third level of the National Mall, right next to Borders, and down the hall from the WWII Memorial.  Sorry, I meant the Fifth level, my bad, it’s really confusing.  Together, we also learned that the seats and seatbelts in our rockin’ Saturn Vue are infinitely more adjustable than we originally believed- HT to Sarah for sliding the thingy and double HT to Cathy for being brave enough to pull a handle while driving.  Thankfully it wasn’t the eject button or the airbag test handle – that would have gone really wrong.  And that’s just the surface of the vast store of information I learned while we were supposed to be learning how to blog better. 

Stay tuned, I’ll tell you all about that next.  Suffice to say, the major takeaway for is is that you won’t be reading any big improvements around here any time soon.  I know the cool kids, I saw them at work, and I think I prefer being success-challenged in the blogosphere.  Being otherwise just looks like too much hard work, oh and it would require a trip to a fat farm, a trip in the time machine to go back to being 30, and a new wardrobe.  So, no, not today, not enough time.  And besides, the Wayback machine needs cleaning, Sarah Palin’s pet Dinosaurs did a number on it last trip out.

     Just a beautiful day in our nation’s capitol.

"So, then you were the wild child in your family? Right?"

"Um, no… well, okay, maybe a little."

Go ahead, Mom.  Tell them that between my Nobel Research project in Quantum Physics and my heavy practice schedule as a Concert Pianist, there was simply no time for too much mischief in my younger years.  Right?  Mom?  OMG, I think she fainted.  Somebody help me here.

Yeah, that’s what she said.

Yeah, we’re here! WOOT! The Saturn was a lovely ride, we had a nice uneventful trip, oh, and I’ve already met a bunch of great bloggers and Tweeple that I’ve read and followed for, like, oh, forever! Amazing! And that was just the Pre-party! Thanks for a wonderful dinner to the lovely ladies from GM.  So glad we were there to witness Lesley’s first Lobster! Don’t worry, it was good for all of us!  Yum to the O!!! So, now that it’s after midnight, I’m headed to sleepytime slumber land.  I’ll write more tomorrow… while I’m busy learning amazing things at BLOGHER!

Yeah, this is a girly post and a little bit techie post, so if you are neither then click on that button that says NEXT BLOG.  Okay, you’re still here? Fine, then look at this site if you like kittens, or maybe this if you’re a guy and you’re into guy stuff… me, not so much, since I have my own and all that.  Seen one set, seen ‘em all I always say.

Anyway, for everybody who’s left here reading, here’s my progress so far. 

Clothes – check!

And yes, I’ve got the "perfect clothes" pulled together for this big event.  Complete with labels that say "perfect clothes".  Just because they are, and I’m like that, mkay? And by perfect, I mean that they are not too stylish, not too painful, not too Mom-i-fied, and not too young but not too cougar-y.  See?  Just right!  Perfect!  And we all know that "teh perfect clothes" are vitally important because, really, looking good is just as important as being there.  Right?  Um, er, yeah, right. 

Cute Shoes – check!

Yes, from the vast collection known as my attic, I have covered the conundrum formerly known as "what shoes to wear with "The Perfect Clothes"?  OH, and here’s a news shocker, I will be rocking some majah cute shooz for the cocktail party! No Jimmy Choos or

All together now, and a 1, and a 2 – yay for cute shoes!

Pedicure – TBD

Because I still have to get a pedicure.  Cute shoes demand cute toes, right?  Now I just have to figure out the where and when… yoo hoo – blogger girlz, any ideas? More importantly, if you’ve got room for girl-time this week then "Face" me and we’ll figure it out.

Transportation – DOUBLE-CHECK!!!!

Not sure whether I’ve mentioned this yet ;-> but we’re rolling to BlogHer courtesy of GM.  And, why is that, you ask?  Oh, could it be maybe because GM ROCKS!!!  Oh yeah, they frickin’ rock!  And because they rock so much, they chose us to be the "face" for their Saturn Vue Hybrid.  Impeccable taste on their parts, I think.  So, because of their inspired decision, this stylin’ whip will be delivered directly to our van down by the river on Saturday afternoon:

And, as if the coolness of the car itself wasn’t already too much, all the gadgets and gizmos are activated on it.  This means that we can enjoy the XM or get lost or whatever as much as we want.  Hey Neverlost! Better practice your mad skillz!  We’ll need you by Sunday!  The Bob and I plan on spending Saturday evening cuddled up in the car, staring at all the nifty new gauges and blinking lights by moonlight, and soaking in that new car smell!  Now that’s a date night to remember!  We will do our best to not drool on the upholstery, I promise.  Oh, and I forgot, I think I meant to tell you again that GM ROCKS!!! 

Laptop, Camera, Ipod & other gadgetry – check, well, sort of

I’ve got the lappy ready to go, after spending several hours cleaning crap out of it.  You know, because The Bob is very browser-ADD.  So there were 8 different browsers on that computer.  Yes, 8! I counted them as I took them back out.  Because none of them worked properly.  None of them.  I’m just trying to decide whether I’ll need a thumbdrive or a port. harddrive.  Yes, us gear queers are freaky.  I know.  Yeah, I know.  Oh, and the Ipod is loaded with everything I should need, including a book, and music that doesn’t show up in commercials.  Sarah should appreciate that.  The camera bag is packed, with too much stuff.  A sign that you’ve partially resigned your girl card is when your gadget bag is bigger than your shoe bag – or it’s a sign of the apocalypse, one or the other, you decide. 

So, that’s the packing.  The excitement builds! I’m ready!  Are you ready for us DC?  I sure hope so, ‘Cause ready or not, here comes BlogHer!  Yoo hoo, Waiter?  I’ll take a CheezburgHer and a Martini as big as my head!  For everybody!  

So, yeah, we’re fabulous!  We’re going to DC… yep, DC… for BlogHer Reachout 2008.  We’re going to eat some CheeseburgHers, drink a Martini (or 12), and polish up this skill (not so much skill as luck in my case) of blogging that we’ve taken as our own.  Impulsive? Yes.  Crazy? Yes.  Fun? Well, we’re planning on having lots of it.  And, now that we know it’s official, we’re also representing Knoxville in another way.   Because Cathy, Sarah, and I have been chosen as the only GM BlogHer Carpool group for BlogHer Reach Out DC!  Yes, believe it or not, GM is supplying us with a snazzy new car to drive up to the big event, with the giveback being that we have to Twitter and blog the entire trip.  You know, sort of like a 3 day test drive/reality show/Survivor GM thing?  They shouldn’t really worry about the results of that, should they?  I mean, usually we get a weekend pass from the Home every month or so.  And we pretty well know how to operate in the big world on our own, most of the time anyway.  Yes, I’m thinking exactly what you’re thinking.  This has the potential to be either a trainwreck or pure comedic genius.  But we’ll leave it up to you, the reading and watching audience to decide which!

So, of course, after that bit of news, our excitement level is approaching uncontrollable! I even saw Cathy soliciting fashion advice on Twitter earlier today, yikes!  Because, you know, there’s less than two weeks to go until we’re on our way!  Watch for all the updates as we make the trek!  It’ll be just as good as being there… er, um, yeah.  Okay, not really, but at least you’ll get to watch and read the fun!  Oh, and next year, maybe you’ll go too!  You should anyway, because, BLOGHER ROCKS!

So, if you follow my Twitterfeed, you’re aware that my big BlogHer trip to Nashville got thrown into the mashup machine this week.  Um, yeah.  What was going to be a short overnighter to Music City to hang with Busymom, Newscoma, and Suburban Turmoil is no more.  Nope, due to sponsorship issues and other things, BlogHer made the painful decision to pull the plug on our Nashvegas meetup on Tuesday afternoon.  Yep, still more than a little bummed about that.  Really wanted to see a more local face on blogging in our area.  But, before you start crying for me or anything like that, remember that you are reading the Queen of Improvisation!  You know, with the motto of "Improvise, Adapt, Overcome!"  Okay, so I stole the motto from Bub, but that’s become my watchphrase this week, so I think it’s okay to borrow it.  Anyway, when the cancellation letters were sent, they were very nice and all that, but I was crushed.  Elisa was kind, but I was despondent.  Until my friend Erin sent her own letter.  Because, let me tell you people, that Erin is a magician!  I LOVE HER!  Yeah, I’ve already told her that, now I’m sharing with all of you.  Because she was the one who suggested that maybe us Knoxville attendees might want to consider going to the DC meetup.  "Hmmmmm" I said, with a gleam in my eye, and that’s when the improvisation machine kicked into gear.  So, instead of a trip to Nashville (which I still want to make some time, maybe when you guys have another Blogger thing like you’re having this weekend? Keep me in mind, mkay?), now we (me, Cathy M, & the lovely Sarah) are making a trip to DC!!!  Three weeks before the election!!!  And the meeting up there has a political lean to it!!!  And I think I’m all out of exclamation points now, so it’s safe to take your hands off your ears. Really.  But, regardless of my hyperbole, you all can be sure that I am all up in the political stuff. 

In reality, as my poor beleaguered family would attest, I’ve been into politics and social issues almost from birth.  I wonder whether it had something to do with Kennedy being assassinated when I was in utero?  The whole bleeding heart Liberal thing, yeah, it’s always been a part of the mix too.  Actually, I can remember being around 4 or so and hearing my elders talk about those "damned dirty Hippies down at UT" and how they were "stirring things up".  I didn’t have any idea what it was that they were stirring but I sure wanted to help!  Fast forward just two years and you will find me all of 6 years old and arguing for interracial dating and marriage with my Nana and my Mom while we ate lunch at McDonald’s on Magnolia in 1970.  And, for those of you who aren’t from around here, that was when you could still see the image of colored water fountains and bathrooms all over east Tennessee.  In 1973, when I was in third grade, I wrote President Nixon to complain about there being no pork in a can of Pork and Beans, right in the middle of Watergate.  Um, yeah.*  In the Summer of ‘76 I sat up late at night and watched Jimmy Carter accept the nomination for President at the Democratic Convention.  Yes, I wore an illegal John Anderson Button on my Flag Corps. Uniform in 1980 when my high school Marching Band performed for Reagan when he came through stumping through central Florida for votes.  And, yes, I did in fact register to vote exactly on the day of my 18th birthday.**  In fact, I was the first registered Democrat on my Father’s side of the family in, well, forever.  In 1992 I argued politics at dinner here in Knoxville with people twice my age.  In fact, I caused much amusement  when someone asked me whether I was better off in ‘92 than I was in ‘82.  You do the math – I was 18 in ‘82; I lived at home with my parents and all my housing, transportation, clothing and entertainment was paid by them, but by ‘92 none of that was the case so my answer was a resounding NO!  I also watched with sadness and anger during every minute of the coverage of that travesty also know as the impeachment trial of Bill Clinton.  And I enjoyed the whole "let he who is without sin" thing play out afterward among the Republican leadership of the house.  In 2000, after I helped my late hubs make bumper stickers for both of our cars that looked like this:

BU**SH**

and then I proudly voted for Gore.  And it had nothing to do with Gore’s internet creation, but it did have quite a bit to do with knowing that a Baseball Team owner from Texas who just happened to be the son of a former President was bringing nothing to the table that qualified him to be the President of my country.  You know, sort of like living next door to Russia doesn’t make you a Foreign Policy expert, it simply makes you an Alaskan.  Of course, after I voted that afternoon, I had to sit up that long dark night and watch as my state made the term "hanging chad" a part of the political lexicon forever.  In 2004, I even got a grip on my grief over EB’s death (he had passed away almost one month prior to the election, after he had prudently applied for and received our Absentee Ballots because we were moving too close to the election to be able to vote in TN) and I cast my ballot for Kerry.  I didn’t send EB’s in (even though I could have) mainly because we’re not from Chicago where the dead vote early and often.  And I can tell you that after that travesty of an election night my hysteria was no longer single-focused, I cried for all of us.  Finally, to ice the cake, the Bob said he knew I was the girl for him when he asked me about Bush and I retorted that "there’s a village in Texas desperately in need of their idiot and I think it’s criminal that we are depriving them of him".  So, yeah, my credentials go back from age 8 to the present 44, and obviously politics is my thing.  So add it up:  a blogging event + in my nation’s capitol + three weeks before Election Day = Nirvana!  And no, I’m not talking teen spirit here campers, this is major excitement.  I CAN’T WAIT!!!

That’s why, in closing, I must say a big thank you to BlogHer for the changes you threw at us this week.  You have handed me the opportunity of my lifetime and I am beside myself with glee.  Because, I know this might be shocking, but I’ve also never been to DC.  Central Florida schools didn’t take trips there, too far away I guess.  But I’m finally going, at a historic time in our history, and that just about gives me goosebumps.  And because of the times we are living in, I am making time to see some of our Nation’s Capitol.  Making time to remember the history of our country and our democracy and the people who fought and died for it.  The Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument, the Vietnam War Memorial, and the new WWII Monument, all of those are on the "must see" list.  Those are the most important things to me.  Because seeing Lincoln and knowing Dr. King’s words and his dream this year seems very important to me.  I somehow feel the need to tell them both that they didn’t die in vain.  That everything they spoke about is finally coming true.  Because, I, for one, am very proud to say that in my country, all men (and women) are indeed created equal, and even the most outlandish and/or improbable dreams can come true.

Obama ‘08

*True family story. In the midst of Watergate, I was helping my Mom fix dinner.  I was 8.  I opened a can of Pork and Beans for her and when I poured them into the pan there was no pork to be seen.  I got very indignant about this and my Mom told me that if it upset me that badly I should do something about it.  Stop complaining and stop bitching was my Mom’s watchphrase I think.  I told my Mom that I was going to do something, I was going to write to the President and have him do something to fix those pork-less beans.  So, I wrote my letter, and my Mom took me to the Library to get the address to mail it to.  It was there at the Library that she learned that I had written to President Nixon, and not to the President of Stokely-Van Camp.  I’m guessing that I’ve been on a top-secret enemies list ever since then. Which probably explains why my luggage always gets hand-searched when I fly.  Don’t ever travel by air with me… I’m an unlucky charm!

**To put this into perspective, I didn’t get my Driver’s License until over a month past my 16th birthday, but I was hell-bent on voter registration as soon as I was eligible.  So, on the day of my 18th I went to lunch with my Mom, and we then went straight to the county offices and I registered to vote.  The next weekend my Mom and Step-Dad took me to the Dog Tracks and gave me betting money.  Woot for Mom & Herb! Only thing better would have been Vegas, but since I lost the gambling money in record time and spent the remainder of dinner playing with my Lobster Tail that probably wouldn’t have been a very good investment.