Two weeks from today, I’ll be in NYC, enjoying the final few hours of freedom BlogHer. And, like everyone else on the Interwebz (at least the 1500 or so women who are going), I’m ridiculously excited.
I’ve read all kinds of great posts and watched some great vlogs about what to expect, like this one and this one and especially this one. I even belong to a forum filled with advice, speculation and even some good old fashioned gossip.
I know what everyone will be wearing. I’ve heard about all the parties people are going to (and learned who was “lucky” enough to get invited to private shindigs). I’m prepared to network, and learn, and have a whole bunch of fun.
But there’s one thing I want to know that the internet can’t tell me. I’m wondering what everyone will be like in real life. Who are the women behind the blogs? How close are their real life personalities to their online personas?
I fall into the “what you read is what you get” category. I might be a little less rowdy than my blog leads you to believe, but generally speaking, the words typed here are the same words that fall out of my mouth in actual conversation (if somewhat more eloquently stated).
And, judging from the phone conversation I had with Mommy’s Still Fabulous the other day, I’d say she’s living her brand too.
But I’m wondering…
Will those who are free with cuss words online speak equally colorfully?
Will the funny ladies have us in stitches?
Will the writerly types hang back, watching (and writing) from the sidelines?
Will we have as much in common in real life as we seem to online?
Or will it be like that first junior high dance, where everyone just stared at each other and shuffled their feet awkwardly?
But you know what? Those questions will have to go unanswered for now. Because, for once, the Internet can’t stand in as a substitute for real life. I’ll just have to dive in to the great unknown that is BlogHer and find my answers as I muddle through.
By the way, if you see me standing somewhere looking hopelessly lost? I probably am. I have no sense of direction. So, please, stop and help?
Otherwise, I might have to throw one of those tantrums my daughter is so famous for. And that would not be pretty. Not pretty at all.