I predicted two things about the recent Aussie Blogger’s Conference in Sydney.
The first was that, during my blog post reading, I would – like so many Hollywood movie protagonists before me – stop mid-sentence and run off the stage to be where I truly belonged. And no, that’s not back at home with my husband and children but rather at the pub across the road.
The second was that, with the entire room being hooked up to WiFi, I would end up on Twitter offering insightful remarks such as “Why does anyone think lemon slices in water is a good thing?” and “It’s 11AM. Is it too early to start drinking??” and perhaps even “My name badge just accidentally fell into the toilet but I’m still going to wear it. Wrong?”
(For the record, the fact it fell into the toilet pre-flush or post-flush makes no difference to me. I’d still wear it.)
As it turned out, I managed to read out my blog post (“Morning Is Broken“) without ‘epiphanating’ (that should totally be a word) and my twitter offerings were even more inane than anyone could ever imagine but it didn’t matter. There were so many people tweeting about the conference that my occasional interjections such as “The only thing I ever giveaway on my blog is my dignity. Fact.” and “@Woogsworld Stop posting pictures of my breasts on the internet!” were lost in the mêlée.
I mean, that is one of the best things about being at a blogger’s conference. Everyone – and I mean EVERYONE – is tweeting. When you pick up your iPhone, nobody – and I mean NOBODY – is saying in an accusatory tone “Are you tweeting?” as if they think they’ve just said something really amusing and you are stealing their fox spirit by broadcasting it on the interwebs. And in case you are wondering, my standard response when someone says that to me is “No, I’m checking my stocks” even though I don’t actually own any stocks and have probably just posted a remark on twitter about having just found half a donut down my bra.
So, yes, at a blogging conference, you are among kindred spirits – people with the same level of cyber-addiction as you and it feels… goooooood.
Other things I discovered that also felt goooooood:
Cyber-friends are for life and not just for Christmas… and that’s a great thing.
For example, I ended up liking cyber-friend Squiggly Rick’s so much that I became his Hot Cougar Wife for a whole evening. When I took off my tiara during the dinner-slash-dance, he asked me to put it back on. That’s when I knew it was true love. Oh, plus we developed the ‘chair line dance’ which is when you do a line dance in a chair. Admittedly, it all gets a bit Sharon Stone when you’ve rotated yourself around to the back of the chair but that’s half the fun, right?
(In the end, we had our marriage annulled because of our failure to consummate it. Turns out he’s gay. Who knew? Okay, so I did. I like a challenge, me… You can read Rick’s own account of our Britney-in-Vegas-style marriage by clicking here.)
Mark Pollard is hot!
Many of you may remember Mark from previous Not Drowning, Mothering adventures such as “An Open Letter To McCann Australia” and “Making My Own Fun“. Turns out he’s as hot as Squiggly Rick is gay. So hot that I had to have my photo taken with him to serve as a reminder never to cyber-hassle advertising executives without checking out what they looked like first.
So thanks to my ill-researched efforts, he and his family are now on a witness relocation program and moving to the States, like, forever. I now have to live with the guilt about that for the rest of my life.
Nobody seemed unduly disappointed that ‘The NDM’ was, in fact, just l’il ol’ me.
Despite all my misgivings about ‘outing myself’ (see “Great Expectations“), nobody threw their drink in my face shouting “Imposter!”. Although, admittedly, someone did say “I never ever thought in a million billion years that you’d be wearing a floral dress.”
For the record, I make the floral look my bitch.
If I thought that this statement was true before the conference, I now know it to be extra-true-with-sugar-on-top-and-a-vodka-chaser.
Oh, and look… if anyone’s wondering, my name tag didn’t fall into the toilet in the end. It came close once or twice. And yes, I was almost tempted to throw it in myself just to have something to blog about (so dedicated to my craft as I am) but ultimately I wanted it as a keepsake of one of the Best Times Ever.
AusBlogCon 2012? In my heart, I’m already there…
Big thanks to the organisers, who tirelessly worked to put this thing together. I’m still waiting for someone to explain the ‘B-string cleavage concealer’ in the goodies bag, though. I mean, why would anyone ever want to cover up their cleavage???
EDITED TO MENTION @AnIdleDad because he’s a bit upset I didn’t marry him for the evening. Maybe next year?