A Happy Place - BlogHer 2015

BlogHer co-founders, Elisa Camahort Page, Jory Des Jardins, Lisa Stone

A happy place. Not somewhere in your mind but a physical space where you pack up a suitcase with the things you'll need for a few days, and then get on a plane that will take you there.

T shirt art by A'Driane Nieves

 

That's a BlogHer conference. It's a real place, with real people. People ask how you can be friends with someone you've never met in person, or wonder how odd it must be to meet someone on the internet. But it's doing that, on the internet, that is exactly what has enriched my life. I have met friends and found community because of the internet.

My friends in the computer. I am drawn to them because I feel accepted, included, and liked, when I'm with them.

The annual BlogHer conference is a very real place for me.

And the love I hold for the people that are all a part of this, is just as real.

The only thing that would have made my days at the conference more fantastic, would have been...
nothing. There is nothing I can think of. Except for the cab ride to the hotel from LaGuardia where the driver imagined I said, "I'm in a hurry! Get me there as fast as you can!" Otherwise, my cup runneth over with the good feelings from this conference.

It's good to be back home. More detailed posts on the conference--musings and ponderings on how the conference has changed for me and of how my expectations of what to experience have evolved.

And, of course, Auggie's list of lamentations of transgressions that took place while I was gone. Easily, the best part about going away and coming back are his "Tattletale Tales: Volume 1". I've been republishing his words for five years now, you can see the past years lists of how hard life is while I'm gone, here.

Here's what I sneak-peeked and read, "Day 2: we had to go for a walk in a near tornado." But otherwise, I have no complaints--a few requests for some good solid sleep tonight, maybe, but no complaints.

8 hours of this please

Well, all right. I do wish my house was picked up a bit more before I came home, but, I only say that because you twisted my arm.

More later. Because for right now, this -

"Mom, did you hear that? It's my sigh. You're home."

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