Pause

Still Alive! Just back from BlogHer Business

Just got back from the marathon business trip that culminated in an absolutely awesome inaugural BlogHer Business Conference. I didn't know what to expect. Of course, we would have awesome speakers, but would we still be able to pull off the energy that is normally experienced at the summer BlogHer Conference (which I've dubbed, BlogHer Blowout)?

There's something about getting a bunch of women bloggers together, whether they are Mommy bloggers, business bloggers, or, as I learned, companies seeking to learn more about social media. Every woman (and man) that I met at BlogHer Business oozed curiosity. There was a generosity of spirit--attendees who offered up their best practices--and humility. Veterans mixed it up with the newbies. Publishers chit-chatted with consultants. The business bloggers ate Twizzlers with the agency execs. Media behemoths pow-wowed with tech giants. And there were shoulder rubs to boot. One big business love-in, without singing Kumbaya.

THIS is why I do this.

BlogHer Business conferences

Why I've been a Bad Blogger

I've heard all kinds of reasons for why people stop blogging--writers' block, burnout, weddings, gag orders, death--mine seems so mundane in comparison: business trip.

You would think that having ample time on planes would make blogging easier, usually I knock out several in the air, then post them when I'm back online. But for the past few months I've been the most challenged as I have ever been with blogging, ironic, since I am growing a business around the blogging community. Rather than piss and moan about how busy I am I figured I would provide a numeric portrait of My March, thus far:

Number of days on the road: 16

Cities: 5

Flights: 11

Layovers: 4

Layovers in Dallas: 4

Number of times I bumped into Mary Hodder at an airport or hotel: 3

Number of times I bumped into my neighbors:1

Days with JetLag: 2

Rides to/from airport: 5

Train/Shuttles to/from airport: 4

Late flights: 2

Hotel Nights: 8

Number of times I checked luggage: 4

Nights at Mom's in Chicago: 6

Train rides: 1

Subways: 7

Meetups/parties: 4

Nights out to dinner: 7

Number of french fries I broke down and ate: 25

Number of onion rings: 1

Glasses of wine: 9.5

Margaritas: 2

Hangovers: 1 (Anticipated for the day after the BlogHer Business Conference and the last day of my business trip)

Panels: 3

Meetings: 16

Cancellations: 1

Conferences: 2

Press Conferences: 1

Average daily phone calls with H-band: 2.5

Number of times I accidentally referred to him as my boyfriend: 1

Number of times he's had the boys over since I've been away: 1

Number of nights he's been out with the boys: 3

Number of wistful emails H-band has sent with a picture of him on our doorstep and the words, "Ya miss me?": 1

Unread email in inbox: 448

Email messages that I need to read: 200

Lost iPod Mini headphones: 1

Variation in temp between cities: 50 degrees

Number of busted wireless connections: 2

Pair of clean underwear I packed: 10

Pair of clean underwear I need: 16

Number of laundry loads done at Mom's house: 2

Average number of hours of sleep per night: 6.5

Number of sleepless nights: 1

Variation in hours of sleep, from least to most: 10

Episodes of American Idol in hotel room: 1

Number of times Elisa Camahort declared what Simon Cowell was going to say, seconds before he said it: 3

Episodes of Lost from the road: 2

Bungled attempts at streaming the video The Secret from my laptop in hotel room: 1

Number of pushups done in hotel rooms: 144

Number of sit-ups: 480

Number of significant walks: 4

Schwag items collected from meetings/conferences: 10

Amount left with friends/family: 7

Number of outfit variations I've managed to coordinate with the same five sweaters, two pair of jeans, two pair of pants and one skirt: 16

Number of times I will wear these combinations when I return home: 0

Number of bloggers I've hugged: Lost count

Blog posts: 3

Posts on Pause: 1

SXSW BlogHer Business American Idol Lost The Secret

Elisa Camahort

Mary Hodder

Three Reasons Why I Will Still Fly JetBlue

My latest on the Fast Company Blog. Yes, I like to complain. Yes, I will still fly Jet Blue. Why? Because when something really works, customers will actually stick around when it breaks. Not forever, of course, but for a while.

Contemplating [the nest]--a magazine for us Tweeners

H-band was rather shocked to see yet another magazine in our pile of unappreciated media matter: [the nest]--a sister pub of the Website the Knot.

"You can't even get through what you have," H-band said, eying the cover of the Naked Chef and his wife. Apparently, if we read the magazine, we would learn how to make good dinners for two.

"I didn't order it, hun. It just kinda showed up."

I had heard of the pub and marveled at the marketing smarts behind it without realizing I was a key customer. [the nest] is for newlyweds, addressing their life together after the hubbub, after the dress gets freezedried or whatever the hell you're supposed to do with it. Most people think we're not worth much after we say 'I do'. We become sensible again and would never think to engrave napkins in gold or buy pantyhose with built-in-girdles again until our kids' weddings.

But au contraire: we're worth a lot, actually, though it's been hard to determine why. We're feeling a bit off-kilter. We look at our partners and think, "OMG! This is the person I'm married to!" We wonder if the years will be nice to us. We feel differently but can't quite put our finger on it. We feel a new sense of responsibility toward someone, and this someone becomes a reason for saying no to things. "No, I won't be joining y'alls on Friday night; I'm watching Psyche with my husband..." You can't look at this person who helps to support you emotionally and financially and say Screw You when he tells you it probably isn't a good idea to go shopping for new boots. You can't understand why you've become more generous with headrubs, because giving them is like receiving them. You don't know why you are so excited about discovering a new way of making burritos.

All of this is worth something. [the nest] is betting on it.

"When you pitch in without being asked--even if it's not your job--your partner will notice," H-band said. "You've given your partner the gift of your time."

"Huh?" I said. "What are you talking about?"

H-band, came out of the bathroom after a long reading stint, about three-quarters of the way into [the nest].

"There's an article in here on cleaning the bathroom that I think you should take a look at," he said. "You do some of this already, but you should check out the part about cleaning your hair and gobs of toothpaste in the sink."

Looking over H-band's shoulder I see a page for [the nest] baby shop, and now I feel a little bit less special. We newlyweds are actually not that special. Rather we're a feeding pool for the real moolah--the breeders. I imagine we'll remain in this less-appreciated purgatory for a little while longer, at least, maybe even forever. But at least our bathroom will be clean.