I wish I could bottle this heroin type oh the joys wow what just happened I feel like I’m floating on little clouds of fuzzy kittens feeling I have after this weekend and my three hour drive home singing at the top of my lungs while dancing a wicked driver booty shake to all things iPod. There’s something to be said about entering a flock of women who already know your imperfections and insecurities. There was no “faking it” this weekend, no backstabbing (so maybe some of the foodbloggers and I got into it) and these people we love through written words really are that loveable in person, and usually they were even better in person. Which makes me even more confident that those of you who were unable to attend this year would make very good partners in crime next year. (I’m looking at you Poot and Jen.)
I don’t know how many of you got the chance to go in Second Life, but what I took away from blogher is that we all love each other so much. A shocking majority of us (me included) have taken down our blogrolls not out of laziness but out of fear of hurting someones feelings. It’s so easy to get caught up in numbers and comments, and it destroys us more than it helps us. All of you are in my reader, and I keep track of all of you like my little chickens. And if you only knew of all the amazing bloggers I’ve found. You are brilliant, you have all touched me in one way or another (Not like that, geesh.) I’m there, I promise, just as I know all of you are out there watching over me even though I don’t see all “the numbers”.
So if how or why you began writing is being affected by these “numbers” take a breath…they’re just numbers. And last I checked real love can’t be measured with numbers.