Join Me in Snarkville

Do you know how I just LOVE to say that I suck? Well, it is because it is so true. I do suck. (And probably not in the good way, unless you think the good way is because it makes ME perfect blog fodder.) If I was capable, I’d list all the ways I suck and move on, but you know me, I will list them; come back to them; re-hash them; and beat myself up about them. I will be having those (not-so-silent) conversations with myself in the shower for a week. Why? Because I just spent a full week at BlogHer in two days. Yes, I crammed a week’s worth of horrible suckage into a two day women blogging love fest. Only the Queen is truly capable of doing this.

Oh, you are wanting to know the depths to which I suck. Well, let’s stick to a theme lest I be curled up in the fetal position the rest of the day because I’m overwhelmed with suckage.

Today’s theme: How I can say the perfect thing HOURS after the need for that perfect comment. Yes, why was it that as I’m driving home late Saturday night that all the RIGHT things came to mind to say and I’m a complete dork because my mouth/brain function is not capable of it in the actual moment. Here’s a sample.

• With Mir, she says to me — “I read your entry about meeting me. You know I’m not famous and I feel bad you were so concerned.” What I said: “But you are famous to me.” What I should have said: “No, Mir, you aren’t famous and I probably worded my angst a bit wrong. What I meant was that I like you and I want you to like me too — or pehaps not to think I’m a total loser or an ass. The post really wasn’t about you being famous — it could have been written about anyone I admire and dream I’d be friends with. It is about my complete inability not to make lousy first impression.” (case in point on my first impressions.)
• I met this delightful woman from London one evening. She was witty and fun and we spoke about travel and how much I love her city. I even impressed myself that I asked her what part of London she was from (not being told at the time she was FROM London). What I said was something like, “See, notice I was able to narrow it down to London and didn’t ask you if you from York or Blackpool or something.” She nodded politely. What I MEANT to say was, “You are a delightful woman, what blog do you write.” Because had I asked this question, I would have learned that she was Annie Mole of Going Underground Blog. I learn this when? When I’m sitting in a session that she is speaking at. Let me tell you, had I known who she was the night before my conversation would have been so much more awesome — and not at all about the story of the London Cabby who scared the Prince with driving through the streets the first time we were there.
• When I met Karen, who as a complete aside is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met in person — seriously, she is stunning. And yes, to top it off, she was funny and enjoyable to listen to (before I was called upon to open my horrible mouth). There was this group of women talking, Karen and Mir amoung them, and Mir was seriously digging herself a hole — see I’m not the only one — though it was funny. I saw “the look” across Karen’s face, and in a flash — I rush in and say, “you see ‘the look’, that’s the look that says the second you stop talking, she’s going to jump down your throat.” Karen was polite and laughed it off — but I so didn’t mean to come off like I just said Karen was going to eat her young. What I mean to say, <smile>. What I was able to stop myself from saying was, “OMG, Karen, do you have any idea how beautiful you are — I literally can not take my eyes off of you and I’m SO not gay.” See, I have some small filter.
• An oft-asked question at BlogHer is “What do you blog about?” My standard answer was “me, my life, what I want to.” This was ALWAYS met with stares of non-comprehension. I’m not sure if my answer was a cop-out or if I failed to speak English. No matter, the best part was, in an effort to explain more clearly, I gave an example of one of my popular posts. When I tried to explain what it was about, I merely mentioned the selling of “used” diapers. Then I hear, “I used cloth diapers” and died a little. So, what I meant to say, “I’m an East Coaster who has been transplanted into a little bohemian world on the West Coast. I’m constantly shocked by the things I hear at my mother’s club and while I completely respect that all mother’s make their own choices; there have been a few things that I don’t understand AND thus, I blog on that.” Preachy probably — but much better. I will say this, I spoke to this mommy later and she’s sweet and nice and didn’t hold my post about “used” diapers against me.
• Finally, if I had any sense, I would never have launched into a conversation about being shy versus being introverted. That in itself wasn’t the problem. It was the fact, I did something I hated, I quoted my own freaking blog! How horrible was that? Yes, I did it, I’m not proud — I heard way too many times during BlogHer someone say, “I wrote about this in my blog.” I cringed everytime I heard it — like is it not possible that we can relate to people without rehashing our very own posts? Are we not more than what we write about in our blogs? And then, at the end of BlogHer, I fell firmly into the trap of doing just that. URGH, I suck.

More on the goody bag tomorrow, I promise. I also have to let you know that the Mail Buoy podcast is going up tonight I think. This is number 4, and deals with cruising myths. (Please do me a favor, if you listen — send Prince a note and tell him to stop stressing that it is an hour long — PLEASE. Or, send me a note and tell me to shut up already. Either way.)

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