The Casual Blogger's Conference is one of those things I don't want to get.
Yet here I am, discussing something that I have already defined, by choice, as un-get-able. Which would lead one to believe that I really do want to get this Casual Blogger's Conference, but am too embarrassed to admit it. Perhaps there's an element of truth to that. The real truth, however, is that I have a cake in the oven and feel like writing (making fun of) something. Figured this Casual Blogger's Conference was just as good a topic (target) as any.
To set the stage for this monumental blog post, let me first explain something I do get. I get blogging. (Duh.) I get that people like to use this here medium to write out their events, histories, frustrations and commentaries. I get that it's an extremely efficient method of excommunication. (Actually it's communication, not ex-communication, but notice the alliterative action in that sentence and I wanted the alliteration to amble on.) I get that friendships are foamed (har har) and I also get that blogging brews the brain -- by both reading what others have to say, and by the blogger's own research.
I get blogging.
I do not get Conferences for Bloggers.
(Doesn't that word look like boogers at first glance to you?)
From what I understand, here's the stage for this Conference that they ironically call Casual: A bunch of Mommy Bloggers gather 'round to acquire tips on making their blog better. There are communication courses, writing workshops, photography clinics, legal lectures (from a real attorney) and classes to demonstrate methods for making money. The conference offers direction from design divas and sessions to showcase ways in which to thicken your traffic -- ways to get more hitters hanging-on to your hooey. Which would ultimately allow you to earn thousands of dollars from your boring mommy memoirs.
Sorry. Had to say it. Mommy memoirs are boring (unless I know you personally.) I don't care if you're Faulkner or Stephen King or even Jane Austen-like in your clever dialogue, there is NO WAY to write up your diaper changing experiences so as to make them entertaining. Or interesting. Or worth reading.
Oh! But I have a diaper changing story! Lemme give it a stab:
Yahoo #1 was a few days old. Spouse and I were still out-of-our-minds intense about this baby rearing stuff, for we both understood that we were most definitely in the soup. When our first little screamer came out of the who-hatch, we understood that our purpose in life was to do one thing: Keep That Child Alive.
So everything was a big deal. Diaper changing included. On our "changing table," as the experts refer, we have a statue of Jesus with a few kids on his lap. It's quite a statue. It has always helped add a sense of calm to the diaper-changing process.
Perhaps it goes without saying that our situation could use all the sense of calm we could get.How did I do? Good diaper story? No? That's okay, I understand. If I make fun of your mommy blogging, you can most certainly bash my miserable excuse for a diaper story.
Spouse was changing the child. (You are all so jealous, right? That my wonderfully handsome husband also changes diapers.) He had just wrapped up the old 'n dirty, and was reaching for the new 'n clean, when that little Yahoo sneezed. Violently. Which caused this chunky-ish fluid to project from his nether region -- all over the Jesus.
I was in the other room. And this is what I heard:
"Hoooonnnneeey! He shat the Jesus!"
Back to the Conference. I have also heard, from a few sources, that Bloggers print business cards. Cards that provide the address of their beloved blog. They take these cards to the Confernce and hand them out with a phony smile. A smile, with mega teeth, that says, "Here! Read my blog! I won't read yours because I'm too important for reading the blogs of the plebeian populace, but read mine. Everything I do is JUST PLAIN EFFING FANTASTIC!"
You know what I think? It's just a blog. It ain't proof of your holy existence. It ain't the answer to world peace. It ain't the end-all-be-all of crafting. And it most certainly isn't the last word on decorating.
Megan had been asked by the Casual Blogger Conference people to attend and read one of her posts. This post. Her original plans for a U2 gig made it such that she'd be in town, so she obliged. Me, being the I-find-everything-utterly-fascinating-individual that I am, was curious. I sent her an e-mail asking if I needed to get tickets in advance. She replied to tell me that tickets are $125. For one day.
I told her I'd give her a ride. Asked if she'd read the post to me on the way.
Due to the misfortune of Bono, the U2 show was postponed and Megan canceled her trip. Which also includes the cancellation of her Conference footnote address. Bummer right? The Confernce people don't get to meet Megan!
At this point, I would like to provide an important piece of information: The Conference is SOLD OUT! As in, even if you were up for the $125 a day price tag, you cannot go unless you have already secured your spot. Those Conference people have landed a gold mine. They will provide all sorts of tips for earning cash via I-bahn blog, all while knowing the best (only) way to make money with this business of blogging, is to calibrate a conference. Bah! I'll bet they're busting their laughing buttons all the way to the bank!
On second thought, it would be so very, very, VERY fun to spend a day watching. And taking notes. Perhaps the people at Utah Valley Magazine could send me? I could write up some stuff for them. I know they appreciate my opinion.
If I were to go, I would be on my best behavior. Because you know what I always say?
"If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.
(Then go home and write about it on your blog.)"