;)
Wednesday
Aug182010
BlogHer Unplugged
Wednesday, August 18, 2010 at 9:41AM
I never bring my laptop to BlogHer. I tried it one year and I only time I opened the bag it was in was when I had to do the walk of shame through airport security. Really, there isn't a more humiliating experience than the mad rush to find your bra shoes under the harsh florescent lights of morning TSA checkpoints and get the hell out of there before they drag you back for one more awkward full body scan.
That's part of what I love about going to BlogHer, the fact that I get to totally unplug for a weekend and just listen to all the bloggers I spend the rest of the year reading. The panels are always like a long slam poetry session for me, or a book on tape, or like my daughter must feel every night when I read her Frog and Toad Are Friends. Again. Because there isn't one other damn book in the world to read before bed.
Frog and Toad are quickly becoming not my friend. That's all I'm saying.
However, I am not one to ever easily be satisfied and that explains why I weigh 50 pounds more than I did 4 years ago is why, when my friend Rachel proposed staying in tents instead of New York hotel rooms, roasting hot dogs over a fire instead of bloggers over cocktails, I couldn't resist. Talk about pushing something to it's limits. It was like Fundamentalist BlogHer. I still got a blogger and I still got to learn something, but I got to take my unpluggedness to a whole new level.
Four days, three nights, two bloggers, two husbands, five children, zero electrical outlets, five flashlights, one lantern and I don't even know how many albinoish-transparenty crabs that only come out once the sun goes down. Which, it turns out, I am not a fan of.
I've never been camping before. My husband has, my sons have, Rachel and her family go all the time, but poor 3of3 and me had honestly not a clue what we were getting into. I was warned on Twitter that camping was evil and the devil and miserable and gross and it turns out, Twitter is a dirty liar. Because I love camping. I am currently trying to find a way to quit my job, home-school my kids and do nothing but camp all the way across North America.
It really wasn't all that much different from BlogHer, to be honest. We had panels, like the very popular "How to Get Day Drunk Like It's Your Birthday" opening keynote.
We attended the "How to Look Classically Graceful Under Tidal Pressure" break-out session.
There was the "Teach a Man to Fish" session, which is very useful if he wants to eat fish sticks for the rest of his life.
Every CampHer attendee received free pedicures and full body sea-salt and sand scrubs, courtesy of the Gulf Of Mexico.
Our beach front, five-wind-rating-stars accommodations afforded us all the privacy we wanted, to be able to change swimsuits and pretend like no one else on the beach could see us flapping everything our momma gave us out in the wind. Pretend being the operative word in that sentence. Lying to yourself is an important life skill that is best perfected in the wild.
Rachel and I got up early, before the kids and the crabs and the world and God, to participate in the Photo Stumble-Out-Of-Our-Tents. Which really was my favorite part. Especially when she didn't know I was behind her.
And just like you'd come to expect from any good blog conference, there was the exclusive, invite-only high class, black tie party. Or, you know, Cheesburgcampher. {Photos stolen with begrudging consent from Southern Fairytale's FlickR}
We came home with lots of sand swag in shiny pink coochies bags, but we came home with so much more than just sunburn on our shoulders (which doesn't make anyone happy, really), rotting sand-dollars in our purses and sand in our holiest of holies.
What we came home with is the understanding of the importance of really listening. Not just hearing, listening. We hear (or read, whatever) so much every single second of every single day...all of us, kids to grown-ups, and in the constant drone of internet and tv and friend and traffic and office noises we, more often than I think is proper to admit, forget to pick something, anything, to listen to. To feel. To taste. To learn.
But when you have nothing but sunrise and sunset to keep the pace of your days, when forward momentum halts and time becomes nothing more than a construct you can choose to ignore, when you have little but the roar of waves and the flutter of feet across the sand to occupy your thoughts, you are maybe a little better able to listen to what your heart is saying.
And it's probably saying that it's time to glow, or dance, or sit, or peek.
Or that there is no appliance in this world as beautiful as the one that makes a memory.
Or that no toy in the world will ever be as fun to play with as your daddy.
Or that maybe, just maybe, spending a few nights under an unadulterated night sky, suffocating under the weight of the moon and the stars and the galactic dust, and being reminded of exactly how small you really are is the simplest gift you could ever give to yourself.
That's part of what I love about going to BlogHer, the fact that I get to totally unplug for a weekend and just listen to all the bloggers I spend the rest of the year reading. The panels are always like a long slam poetry session for me, or a book on tape, or like my daughter must feel every night when I read her Frog and Toad Are Friends. Again. Because there isn't one other damn book in the world to read before bed.
Frog and Toad are quickly becoming not my friend. That's all I'm saying.
However, I am not one to ever easily be satisfied and that explains why I weigh 50 pounds more than I did 4 years ago is why, when my friend Rachel proposed staying in tents instead of New York hotel rooms, roasting hot dogs over a fire instead of bloggers over cocktails, I couldn't resist. Talk about pushing something to it's limits. It was like Fundamentalist BlogHer. I still got a blogger and I still got to learn something, but I got to take my unpluggedness to a whole new level.
Four days, three nights, two bloggers, two husbands, five children, zero electrical outlets, five flashlights, one lantern and I don't even know how many albinoish-transparenty crabs that only come out once the sun goes down. Which, it turns out, I am not a fan of.
I've never been camping before. My husband has, my sons have, Rachel and her family go all the time, but poor 3of3 and me had honestly not a clue what we were getting into. I was warned on Twitter that camping was evil and the devil and miserable and gross and it turns out, Twitter is a dirty liar. Because I love camping. I am currently trying to find a way to quit my job, home-school my kids and do nothing but camp all the way across North America.
It really wasn't all that much different from BlogHer, to be honest. We had panels, like the very popular "How to Get Day Drunk Like It's Your Birthday" opening keynote.
We attended the "How to Look Classically Graceful Under Tidal Pressure" break-out session.
There was the "Teach a Man to Fish" session, which is very useful if he wants to eat fish sticks for the rest of his life.
Every CampHer attendee received free pedicures and full body sea-salt and sand scrubs, courtesy of the Gulf Of Mexico.
Our beach front, five-wind-rating-stars accommodations afforded us all the privacy we wanted, to be able to change swimsuits and pretend like no one else on the beach could see us flapping everything our momma gave us out in the wind. Pretend being the operative word in that sentence. Lying to yourself is an important life skill that is best perfected in the wild.
Rachel and I got up early, before the kids and the crabs and the world and God, to participate in the Photo Stumble-Out-Of-Our-Tents. Which really was my favorite part. Especially when she didn't know I was behind her.
And just like you'd come to expect from any good blog conference, there was the exclusive, invite-only high class, black tie party. Or, you know, Cheesburgcampher. {Photos stolen with begrudging consent from Southern Fairytale's FlickR}
We came home with lots of sand swag in shiny pink coochies bags, but we came home with so much more than just sunburn on our shoulders (which doesn't make anyone happy, really), rotting sand-dollars in our purses and sand in our holiest of holies.
What we came home with is the understanding of the importance of really listening. Not just hearing, listening. We hear (or read, whatever) so much every single second of every single day...all of us, kids to grown-ups, and in the constant drone of internet and tv and friend and traffic and office noises we, more often than I think is proper to admit, forget to pick something, anything, to listen to. To feel. To taste. To learn.
But when you have nothing but sunrise and sunset to keep the pace of your days, when forward momentum halts and time becomes nothing more than a construct you can choose to ignore, when you have little but the roar of waves and the flutter of feet across the sand to occupy your thoughts, you are maybe a little better able to listen to what your heart is saying.
And it's probably saying that it's time to glow, or dance, or sit, or peek.
Or that there is no appliance in this world as beautiful as the one that makes a memory.
Or that no toy in the world will ever be as fun to play with as your daddy.
Or that maybe, just maybe, spending a few nights under an unadulterated night sky, suffocating under the weight of the moon and the stars and the galactic dust, and being reminded of exactly how small you really are is the simplest gift you could ever give to yourself.
Reader Comments (60)
Having had both types of weekends, I can safely say I prefer CampHer. Except, I kinda really enjoy a nice clean toilet and running water. A lot.
Beautiful.
New York was pretty cool, but... man, I'm a little jealous.
(except for the swarms of ghost crabs. you can keep your damned crabs.)
I'm buying my tickets early for next year.
No one was serving muscles at any of the after parties were they?
This is just beautifully written! I felt like I was right there with you. And a really nice break from all the BlogHer repasts I've been reading ;-) Which also are nice, but this one struck a chord. Thanks, Mr. Lady and family!
Where do I submit my application for my Sandcastle of Your Own session? "Best fonts and pebbles for love notes the sand"
YAY for you guys! What a great trip for you and your families. Beautiful.
And I have camped lots, but never on a beach. I want to try that!
Gorgeous! And no bears! My kind of camping.
I truly do hate camping. I like sleeping in a bed, and peeing/pooping in a toilet that isn't being shared with the rest of who knows who at a campsite or worse, in a hole someone dug in the ground. Those are my two main complaints against camping. Outside of that, your trip looks like it was FABULOUS and that last picture is GORGEOUS.
Wow, that looks like a ton of fun! Except the sand in the holiest of holies, that I understand from personal experience and is no fun. Never tried camping on the beach, I bet its better than the woods.
All of it, lovely!
Absolutely wonderful!
You'd be totally welcome at the gunblogger campout I'm organizing for Sunday night of Labor Day weekend. You know, just your scene :)
How is it that you never went camping when you lived in Colorado? Kid, this is the place to camp. Although beach trips are pretty spectacular, too, as your pictures prove.
You hit every reason why I love camping. The unplugging, the connectedness to the universe and the ability to soak in your surroundings.
Oh, and whiskey around a campfire doesn't hurt either.
Unbelievable pictures! Especially the kiddo in the water and the super blue sky full of clouds. Man, gorgeous!
I'd take CampHer over BlogHer any day of the week.
I am so jealous, drinks, burgers, beach, taking photos and sand in your cooch?
That's my dream vacay, I tell ya.
Now, I can't wait for the Labor Day camp out. There's no beach there, but I need some outdoor sleep after camp fire booze.
I'd camp on a beach if it was in a hotel on said beach. Otherwise, no thank you. I mean, I'm glad you had fun, but I can't survive without at least one real shower a day. Sometimes two. And a toilet.
While I fully realize this is completely missing the point of your post, I feel I need to stand up for Frog and Toad Are Friends. As I was once that little girl who forced her mama to read it to her. every. single. night. Frog and Toad? They're good people.
I just love reading what you have to say... And the pictures, Beautiful!
The fact that you are one hot mama in a bikini doesn't hurt either. ;-)
I'm just gonna go ahead and invite myself along for CampHer11.
How much sand did you bring home with you?
#campher2010 - the recap. http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2010/08/18/blogher-unplugged/
I love camping. Haven't been in a while but I think it is about time to go. Those pix are awesome.
Absolutely jealous of your CampHer. What an amazing time spent.
Oh wow. You almost make me what to go camping. But I still need a flushing toilet. lol Fabulous pictures!
I know I may have called you crazy one or twice. Ahem. Fifteen times. Maybe.
Anyway, I get it. Those photos? Make me see how one could camp at the beach and enjoy it. I'm glad you had a blast.
LOVE this post. So glad that you all had such an amazing time!!
All I can think of is awesome ..........thats maybe why you re a writer and I m a reader .....
I adore camping. If I can ever scrape together the money to attend BlogHer, can I please come with you? Please?
AWESOME photos!
Those crabs would give me nightmares. Actually, the mere mention of them likely will give me nightmares.
Beautiful photos! BlogHer was awesome, but I think I'd have preferred CampHer.
Love the pictures! Makes me want to go camping... almost. BTW- I just read your HeyMrLady website and hello?? I didn't know you could apparently braid like a MoFo? Can you come to my house and do my boys hair.. I have not a single bit of black hair braiding in me so instead I have to just buzz their heads :(
That sounds so fun. I did miss seeing you at BlogHer though. We used to camp on the beach every summer when my kids were younger ... the very BEST memories! Great job with the photos too!
unfortunately, i already know how small i am. ha ha the first picture makes it look like a real resort, i didnt even know you could tent by the beach. i have to say, you're braver than i, i've done the tenting thing in minnesota in wilderness and it wasn't fun for six days. only fun thing was going home the crab thing, i couldn't handle it. been there done that, probably wouldn't do it again unless kids begged me too. what did you use for bathrooms? that was a real pain camping too, esp. for a girl!
I'm in tears.
I was there.
and you captured it. perfectly.
dammit.
i love you.
this. so much better. can I just c*p some of this and send people to you because damn lady.
Sunrises, mimosas and pina coladas with you and yours are my idea of perfection.
Just. yes.
You're way wittier than I am but, my your words are my heart's own.
Doooode.....where have you been hiding these mad photography skills and shiznit? BEAUTIFUL, but I still won't camp. I went on a Fraternity River Trip once....once...
you rock - my kids would love you as their mom - me and sand - not friends!
You have almost convinced me to camp. If it weren't for snakes and bugs and outdoor toilets and sharing showers and naturally curly hair, I would do it. However, give me a beach and a sky full of stars and I'm there. Screw the snakes (because I've never seen one on a beach) and the bugs (although sand flea bites suck). I'll just pee and shower in the ocean because there is enough water that the two will never touch my body at the same time.
Ok, I have to go snuggle my babies because I'm having laptop guilt. Loved every second of this. Thanks for the reminder. I actually needed it very much!
I could be down with this kind of conference. As long as I can skip the tent part.
I missed you, but that suuuure looks awesome.
This is where you should have been on August 7th http://www.whiskeyinmysippycup.com/2010/08/18/blogher-unplugged/ (cc: @mrlady)
*sigh*
You almost make me want to go camping.
Almost.
I would need to find a battery operated straightener first.
Camping is complete Zen. Embrace it. Do it way more often.
And please continue to take absolutely gorgeous pictures. You have a eye for beauty and light and simplicity.
Love it.
Honestly, I am way too much of a diva to enjoy camping. My idea of roughing it was my in laws place at the lake, which was a lot, with a single-wide trailer with full electricity, and an add-on that had a full kitchen and bathroom with shower.
But I'm glad you enjoyed and found some zen :)
I love these photos! I've gone through them at least 20 times. Beautiful!!! I'm so jealous! We had bedbugs at Blogher and you had clear crabs. Which is worse? I let you decided. ;)
I ADORE camping. For all the reasons you mention. But most of all, for that moment when you wake up and realize the campfire has blown itself back into flames, despite the fact that you doused it with water, so you leave the tent to douse it again and look up to discover that the night sky is absolutely encrusted with stars. The kind of sparkle that takes your breath away more than any diamond ever could. I can't wait to show that to my children.
Just found your blog. LUH-VING it! Your a crack up...and the bravest women I know (for posting a pic of yourself in a bikini, go you!) except, of course, for Heather Spohr and her story about shitting herself at the Lincoln memorial (go her!)
I had a feeling that it would only take one weekend of communal living for you to experience crabs. Nonetheless, it sounds like a VD experience I can get behind.
I'm glad you had such a nice time. We missed you both though. The think I love about the beach is, when the sun goes down, I'm 10 minutes from my own bed, a shower and a potty with a door. :D
Those pictures are spectacular. The beach beats the city any day.