I owe Caroline a 22 monthday post from Friday. I want to blog about the fun weekend we had on Long Island with my friend Kim and her adorable boys and the super-cute Sesame Street themed birthday. I’m working my way through a bunch of internet-inspired craft projects and can’t wait to show you my newly discovered semi-awesome sewing skills.

But yesterday I woke up to a laptop screen that is nothing but white with faint red-blue lines all over it and one big black bar of AWFULNESS. I used the power of Google to determined I was pretty much screwed, and then decided to go with the tried-and-true “shake it a little” method of repair.

It didn’t work.

I got really desperate and went all-out, using every computer skill I had and drawing on things I had one heard someone else talk about like “core processors” and “motherboards” and “card slots”. I managed to pry off all the covers to the laptop guts (that’s the technical term) and blew on them. Then I screwed all the covers back on and prayed really really hard to the laptop gods to just PLEASE let this WORK and I promise I will NEVER use my computer while my hands are covered in Smartpop dust ever again I SWEAR.

It worked. For exactly the amount of time I had the laptop on. Once I shut it down and brought it home my screen went backto death so I’m typing this on my husband’s computer but don’t tell him because our laptops are Things We Do Not Share. Not because we keep private stuff or secret lives or hidden Facebook pages or anything, but because we like things A Certain Way when it comes to our browsers and keyboards and when someone else uses your computer they MESS IT ALL UP.

It might sound weird to you, but it’s something we agree on – except in laptop emergencies while he’s on duty so his computer is literally sitting completely untouched and I don’t even know what I would DO with myself at 9 pm on a Sunday night without a laptop. Listen to the phonograph? Play the harpsichord? Darn socks? I don’t want to live in that world. But THIS computer is not MY computer and besides the fact that I keep typing nonsense like “aerdomr” instead of “awesome” because this keyboard is just sliiiiightly wider than mine it also doesn’t have access to my photos or editing software. So I’m throwing up my hands and going back to

What I’m saying is, good stuff coming up! Tune in tomorrow or whatever day I can sell a kidney in exchange for a screen that works and has access to all of my stuff!

My friend Natalie did a funny post this week about what search terms people are using to find her blog. I thought I would check mine, but was disappointed that most of them are perfectly reasonable and not at all insane. I think that’s a sign that I’m getting boring in my old age – luckily there are still a few good ones to share.

why people like gin and lemon zest sorbet so be – So be…what? Finish your thought! But to answer your question, because gin is delicious, then end.

free boobes iamges cow – I’m not exactly sure what you were looking for, but shame on you anyways.

why do trees have pine cones – To make super cool crafts with, duh.

tramp stamp tattoos – I RUE THE DAY I ever typed the word “tramp stamp” on this blog. It is rued.

zombie party foods – Brains, obviously. You probably shouldn’t be planning a party for zombies when you don’t know very much about them.

naked carpet – I have no idea how this landed someone on my blog, unless it’s how they found my laser hair removal post in which case I’ve officially died of embarrassment.

are cats from the devil – Yes.

h&m black men’s jeans 2011 – You must be really, really lost.

troll baby – Amazing Halloween costume idea, dude. Go for it.

This is not another BlogHer recap post, so don’t run away. It is, sort of, a reaction to BlogHer and the many many BlogHer recap posts that have been written. It’s also about what I learned at BlogHer, what I didn’t learn at BlogHer and what I suspect I will never learn no matter how many BlogHers I attend.

You cannot teach someone to be talented. Talent is something you either have or you don’t have, like a super fast metabolism or a crazy drunk grandmother. You’re either someone who can eat cheeseburgers and ice cream and pop all day and still fit in your high school jeans or more likely you aren’t. One may become thin by exercising and watching what one eats and skipping dessert and working hard but it’s never the same as just having it. Talent is like that. You can foster a love of something and learn the technical aspects and search out things that inspire you and work your ass off – but you will always be at a disadvantage to those who were born with a natural skill.

I do not have a talent for writing. I enjoy writing. I like to think I am pretty good at writing. I once had a creative writing teacher read my essay out loud in class. But that was in 2003 and I’m still bringing it up now so obviously the accolades are few and far between. I have no illusions that I am going to wake up one morning and sit down at my typewriter and pound out the next great American novel. At best I might Instagram a photo of myself sitting in front of my dad’s old typewriter making duck lips and holding a gin & tonic.

My blog isn’t poetry, it isn’t how-to, it isn’t deep thoughts, it isn’t photo essays, it isn’t brilliance. It’s in a no-mans land, a junkyard, an oasis of random – except that there are hundreds of other bloggers here with me. It’s the world’s most crowded deserted island and I feel like we spend half our time sharing coconuts and the other half fighting over who gets to sleep in the cool kid’s hut. We’re all struggling to tell our stories and capture a snapshot of our lives with the words we do know, limited as they may be, so people will stand up with us and say “I share this experience” or “Wow!” or even just “Cool story, bro”. Maybe we’re all crazy narcissists for thinking our lives are worth documenting – but does it make it better if we realize that’s what we are? If I’m willing to acknowledge that I have reached maximum saturation among people who like red headed children, occasional recipes and mediocre photography do I win an award of some kind? If I admit I am not that good do I get to keep writing?

Maybe these words right here are some of the most unnecessary ever posted on the internet. Since the fact that everyone is writing about writing has already been written, why bother to publish my thoughts at all? Why am I asking so many questions I have no intention of answering? Why is the rum gone?

In the end, the thing I love about blogging is my space gets to be mine. I am the captain of my blogging destiny, or at least the only one with the login to my WordPress dashboard. I don’t have to be the greatest. I’m not competing for Babble’s list of the Top 10 Bloggers Whose Posts You Think Are Super Deep But You’re Not Really Sure Because Your Eyes Cross Half Way Through or even just Top 10 Mom Bloggers As Chosen By Their Friends Who Also Work Here. The rules for blogging are not actual rules and there are no blog police who can shut you down for not being good enough.  There is more than enough room on the internet for everyone.

Let’s be friends.

1. Win the lottery. (Note to self: remember to buy a ticket next time, dummy.)

2. Become super famous through my adorable yet honest, funny but touching, amazingly photographed blog about my pregnancy. Babies. Home. Dog? Crafting? Coupons? I’m still working on it.

3. Die. Come back from dead. Write bestseller about heaven.

4. Invent time machine. Go back in time and invest in Apple/Microsoft/Facebook.

4a. Invent time machine. Go back in time and invent salad in a bag.

4b. Invent time machine. Sell rides on time machine for $100,000 a piece.

5. Find buried pirate treasure while playing with the kids on the beach.

6. Discover a supplement that leads to drastic weight loss, but only if you consume copious amounts of chocolate, wine and cheese daily.

7. Create the first at-home coffee IV drip.

8. Get discovered by P. Diddy while singing karaoke in a bar. Sign billion dollar recording deal to become the next Beyonce. (Note to self: learn to sing.)

9. Start extremely successful business as a baby stylist.

10. Convince half of Martha Stewart’s Twitter followers to send me $1.

Obviously I am about to strike it rich ANY DAY NOW.

I’ve been staring at this blank page for ten minutes now, wondering how to write a BlogHer12 recap post and I’ve just decided I don’t actually want to. It’s only been a few days since I got home but the posts, tweets, threads and private gossip is coming fast and furious. Who was rude, who got pushed, who snubbed who, what super top secret parties I didn’t get invited to, whether or not bloggers who don’t use all the words count as bloggers at all… It’s amazing how other people’s experience can completely change how I view my own. I don’t want to be responsible for doing that to anyone else. If we met, I thought you were LOVELY. Truly, every single person I met was kind and welcoming, from people I’ve admired for years to brand new faces.  If we didn’t meet, I’m so so sorry and I hope we can get together soon. That’s my entire opinion of the conference besides these photos and captions…done as haiku. Please enjoy.

Wednesday:

Walked to Central Park
With Miranda in the rain
No dead bodies found

Went to find some food
The sunset was amazing
But there was no pie

Thursday:

Blographer and more
I met Ree for the third time
She did not know me

Friday:

Sessions and Martha
The meat of the whole big thing
With fun for dessert

Bright lights and good friends
Toys and swag and all the things
Can’t even compare

Saturday:

Disney made me cry
Katie and Serenity
Too many highlights to count

My friends may be weird
But that’s why they understand
I treasure them all