The BlogHer Hangover

Ninety minutes.

That is how long it took me to start crying after I got back into town.

I wasn’t even actually home yet.

I don’t know why I was surprised. This happens every year. I go to BlogHer and I leave feeling amazing. I see people I only get to talk to face to face once a year. I meet people in person that I have been internet friends with for five years. I watch amazing panels of women inspire me to be a better writer, mother, artist, person. I get more compliments in three days than I do for the other 362 days a year combined.

At BlogHer I make business connections. I learn. I socialize. I reunite. I am recognized as a writer. As a business woman. As an individual.

At home I am recognized as “Ian’s Mom”.

At BlogHer people ask me how I do it all.

At home people ask me why I’m not doing more.

At BlogHer I am one of the hosts of the most amazing party. We had a cake from Charm City Bakery, we had a DJ and we did The Hustle. I was sparkly.

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Jen and Sarah posing as “robot hookers”. We actually wore the same dress to Sparklecorn. What are the odds that two people would buy this dress? Photo by Laurie White

At home there is a rotting cantaloupe on my kitchen counter, my sink is full of dishes and I can’t find my glasses anywhere.

At BlogHer I meet with producers of major television news networks that want to discuss the upcoming book in which two of my essays will appear.

At home it is dismissed because it is a “little blogging thing” and did you hear my sister-in-law is going to have an article in Oprah’s magazine? Did I know that she was a real writer?

At BlogHer I sit on panels next to WNBA champions and people come to the session to hear me speak.

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With Megan Hueter and Kelly Mazzante at BlogHer 10. Photo by Laurie White

At home I sit next to my cat who will not stop meowing. I have no idea why.

At BlogHer I say intelligent things and people write it down.

Picture 14 The BlogHer Hangover

At home I walk into the wall and hurt my elbow.

The same wall that has been in the same place ever since I moved here in 2006.

Every year it is like this. Maybe next year, when I go to my sixth BlogHer I will stop being surprised.

I’ll see you in San Diego.

pixel The BlogHer Hangover

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  1. GAH! I can’t believe I only saw you for like half a second!

    I lurve you! I need to come to DC!

  2. FYI…San Diego is Spanish for ‘whale’s vagina’.

  3. What you might not have seen since I made a typo in your twitter handle while typing on my teeny BlackBerry with predictive text is the number of people who retweeted your words. You are smart, funny, wise and kick-ass all the time. I’m glad you get a chance to sparkle a bit more brightly at BlogHer.

    Rock on you awesome robot hooker. And I want a tee shirt, too. ;-)

  4. You are a real writer.

    I love you.

  5. Not only are you thought of seriously, you will also be thought of every time I now crack open a beer with my Goon Squad bottle opener!

  6. You were so hot. Sorry we didn’t get a chance to chat. Next year :)

  7. I’m so glad you had a good time. Love the dress. We’ll have to coordinate for San Diego. How do you look in red?

  8. Four days. For four days we get to go and just be us. Not moms, not wives, not people who need to cook or clean or whatever. We are just us. It’s not that we aren’t still that person we are at home…we just get a break from her. This is my thinking at least. My best guess.

    When I am there I feel so much support, I have a hard time not standing taller, walking straighter, smiling the whole time. I don’t know that I can explain it.

    I know three things: 1. I get this. Completely. You aren’t alone. 2. I cried when I got home too. Yesterday morning was hard too. 3. I will be in San Diego.

  9. This made me cray, because holy shit, I didn’t even get out of New York before I was bawling like a baby. I love our community, I love blogging, and I love you, Miss Sarah. Muah!

  10. You guys didn’t plan to wear the same dress? It’s like it was kismet.

    You’re fab. Your family knows that. They just may not let you know it.

    I’ll see you in San Diego.

  11. You’re a great writer and deserve all the credit you get – those who demean you just don’t get it, stuff them!
    And as for me, well, my life is so incredibly shitty right now, and I feel so utterly worthless in this crap life I’m leading, that I’ve deciced to try and do what it takes to save enough money (I’ll need about $1,500 I reckon) to get myself to either San Diego or, failing that, at least BlogHer 12. Even if it means shy, unread blogger me turning up at an event where I don’t know one.single.other.human.being. I’ll be scared shitless, totally intimidated and utterly likely to spend the entire time in the bathroom. But I’ll be me, not my ex’ “black widow” or my girls’ “grouchy maman” or my dad’s “why don’t you get a real job” daughter or my clients’ “hey, you work from home so of course it’s OK for me to call you on a Sunday night…”…
    I’m scared, but I can hardly wait. And the saving starts tomorrow… euro by euro, till I can afford the air fare/hotel/conference pass…
    You rock!

  12. All that “at Blogher” stuff is true. AND you have LEDs in your legs, so there.

  13. smart aleck says:

    At home you write the stuff that makes me keep your site in my bookmarks, even when I buy a new laptop, or my hard drive crashes…and curse the firewall at work that blocks it when I want a good laugh on a tough day.

    We love you–and I wish to Doubleday that someone would offer you a book deal–because it would be worth all the rotten cantaloupes in the world to stand on a book signing line, even in the NOLA heat, to meet you and tell you that you are cool OUTSIDE the Blogher convention bubble/three day time span.

    One day I want to be able to juggle as well as you do…

  14. Ugh, I hate the “real writer” bit. I have all kinds of writers in my family and at times different ones choose to point the finger and say the other ones aren’t “real.” What the hell does that mean?

    You are indeed real, and not only real, but REALLY GOOD! Fantastic! I love your writing. I sometimes come to your blog just for the inspirational lift!

    It is hard to go from our professional place of competency back to mommy life sometimes.

  15. That wall came outta nowhere. You should have it moved.

    (Typed with the pointy end of my brand spankin’ new Goon Squad shiv/bottle opener)

  16. I am right there with you, robot-hooker-comrade-in-sequins. For some reason this year re-entry was even harder. It was great getting to hang out a little bit but I am sad because it wasn’t enough. I really don’t want to wait until San Diego to do it again. On a bright note though I am already planning the side trip to Tijuana we’re all going to take.

  17. This was my 5th BlogHer and there is always a bit of a coming down when my plane touches Kansas City. In more ways than one.

    For 4 days, I am just “Kelli” with no adjectives (that I know of. Ahem) or qualifiers. And it is so nice to be just me again.

  18. Shiny robot hooker indeed! Excellent.
    I have an assignment for you. Find that person who implied that you’re not a “real writer,” and bring that person to me so I can smack him/her in the head.
    Now go.

  19. It sounds like an amazing time and I am certain I would have a hard time coming back home after as well.

  20. Dude. This is exactly how to describe Blogher. I have to link to this post. I want to say it was 90 min. for me as well. Probably about the time I found myself alone in a house with the kids, dog shit in a bed, kid piss all over a bathroom floor and a full car of unpacked (um, yeah small shoes and underpants all over the place) luggage to unload. Sigh. I was so upset I had contractions. Damn that false labor.

    Seriously though, you are amazing. I am glad to call you a friend and colleague. I’m honored to know you and love that you were my roommate again this year. San Diego here we come!!!

  21. When you are confused I will write little words so that you can understand.

    You know I think this already, but you’re that powerful, beautiful, sparkly, funny, SMART (and also tall) person every single fucking day. I will not allow you to forget it, ever, just like I’ll never stop asking you how you do, in fact, do it all.

    Now stop making me cry.

    I love you.

    (Oh, and he meows because he’s sad that my computer moved away again. Duh.)

  22. You know, I like both Sarahs. I really do. But yeah. I hear you.

  23. Yep. Exactly.

  24. Oh, yes. Yes. I really wanted to meet you. I will set my sights on San Diego.

  25. Okay.

    Your blog is the first one I read when I sit down at my computer. Sometimes I don’t even get around to working on the post I should be working on, and it’s all your fault.

    You’re an awesome writer.

    Oh, and when I saw you had commented on one of my posts, I was all like, “omigawdomigawdomigawd! Goon Squad Sarah read MY blog!

    It was kind of like meeting a rock star when you’ve only just mastered the easy part of Stairway to Heaven.

  26. Exactly what Laurie said. (She always says everything with exactly the right words.)

    I didn’t get a bottle opener. Save me one.

  27. I’m glad I got to see you at MoMA on Sunday, since I don’t think I managed to lay eyes on you at all during the actual conference.

    I know what you mean about BlogHer hangover. And what DOES the cat want when he’s going on like that?

  28. Writer shmiter. You’re obviously a big deal ;) but its hard not to forget that in those 11 3/4 months in between, isn’t it?

  29. Wow. I’m sorry. I…Well, I’m sometimes really critical of the blogosphere. I don’t always understand it. I think that is because I come from a position of privilege, at least from the perspective of being valued as a writer and a very strong woman outside of the blogosphere. So, this has always been just a place to put down more words. I forget that it can be so empowering for so many people. I have to remember to appreciate and value women like you much, much more. You should be proud of everything you accomplish online. It means something. You are really talented. I dig you. I dig your site. Hope you can find a way to make that once a year empowerment a lifetime thing, ya know?

  30. Fabulous post, Sarah. I cannot believe I only got to see you for 2 minutes.

  31. I wish I could have made it to the Women & Sports panel, as I had been looking forward to it since it was announced. Alas, breakfast was a carbfest, so I had to seek out protein.

  32. you and I will wear the same shoes in San Diego, deal?

  33. I know what you mean. For some reason having someone tweet what I said on my panel really made my day.

    I am sorry I missed you, though given that you were wearing that dress I am not sure how that happened.

  34. When I got back from BlogHer/NYC we had a family dinner at my inlaws. As is par for the course, my FIL asked about my work. Not in a “how are things going” way, but in a “have you got any work” kind of way. I explained I had several gigs at the moment, including a really amazing national program. in some realities, this would be cause for celebration and expressions of pride. In my reality it prompted, “And is this paying?”

    When I am around my blogging people, they see the me I feel myself to be. They interact with the me I feel myself to be. They celebrate things I want to celebrate, sympathize and understand the others. They validate those moments when I feel strong, successful, important. I am somehow for them the complete person I feel myself to be: wife, mother, worker, writer, etc. but above all, just me.

    I get it in large dose at conferences like BlogHer, but I get it every day in these online interactions, such as reading something incredible like your post that resonates powerfully with me.

    You rock.

  35. My husband calls blogging my “fantasy life”. He has no idea.

  36. I have had a week of moopyness when I got home. SOOOO great to see you.

  37. Apryl's Antics says:

    Before you sign anything with a producer, e-mail me. :)

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  1. [...] are actually two kinds of BlogHer hangovers. The kind of hangover I wrote about two weeks ago and the kind where you run out of words. Usually when I come home from BlogHer I find that I have [...]