Blog Her? I don’t even know her!

When I was in high school, all the cool/popular/wealthy kids took Latin as their second language. I don’t think it was because of an inherent love of antiquity so much as it was about Latin Convention.

In the spring, all the Latin students went to Latin Convention where they dressed in togas, played games and competed in smart people shit. They got to stay overnight away from their parents, meet kids from schools all over the country, and stay in a hotel – which I’m sure was the real appeal. I’m not sure if crowns of laurel were mandatory.

I didn’t take Latin. I took French. I am a francophile and have been since my tweens. It’s a beautiful language and unlike SOME languages, it isn’t dead (side-eye, Latin).

The popular/cool/wealthy kids talked about Latin Convention all year. When they got back, they passed their photos to each other surreptitiously during class (this was before the Facebook era, when “sharing” a picture meant handing a piece of photo paper with an image on it to someone). Many times, I had to pass shots of frolicking classmates from one to another while my teacher was looking away. All the while, I felt left out and missing out. The yearbook had pages of pictures of all the best and brightest (and coolest and most aloof) making lifetime memories at this weekend-long event. When I signed yearbooks, I inevitably viewed others’ scrawls wherein they wrote about their “awesome time at Latin Convention.”

I was never part of the crowd.

This weekend, in San Diego, which is a mere 90 minute drive from where I live, there is a “Blog Her” conference and I am not there. Everyone who’s anyone on the internet (who can afford it) is there. It’s kind of like Latin Convention all over again. I feel like I’m not “one of them.” I’m nobody. I don’t exist on the blogsphere and I will always be a discontented high school teacher, squinting at bad essays, dreaming of being a writer. Out there, the cool kids, the successful talented kids are all together having a good time. I’m supervising the tree trimming through the window while I walk my six week-old around the house and beg my two year-old to take her nap. Maybe I’ll pick up some clippings and make myself a crown of laurel.

Yet, earlier this week I was reading a blog I follow and became annoyed at the “woe is I” envy of the writer for a more popular blogger. Projection, I guess. Because envy is what I feel right now.

Maybe this year just isn’t my year. Yeah, I’ll go with that.

About Mrs Odie

Friendly Pedant; Humble Genius
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10 Responses to Blog Her? I don’t even know her!

  1. Chelsea says:

    I used to be part of the Blog Her club, but I quit. It’s kind of like Amway for blogs — it seems like a good idea at the beginning, but then you just start pimping your blog to make a few extra bucks. I’ve never gone to the convention, but it seems like a big pep rally for blogs where people are whoring their URLs just to get a few hits.

    You ARE a writer, and a damn good one at that. You don’t need the club membership to prove that.

    Oh, and Latin Convention, while fun, wasn’t THAT fun. We took tests. We took a LOT of tests. I spent more hours scribbling on Scan-Trons than I did having fun. And we stayed at strangers’ houses which was always a bit awkward. Toxic Best Friend and I once got accused of stealing beer at a house, when in fact their son did and shifted blam to us. Good times? Not so much.

    • Mrs Odie 2 says:

      I wondered if you’d respond. It is funny to think of you and TBF accused of stealing beer. I wonder where that son of theirs is today. I don’t think TBF tasted alcohol until she was a junior in college! And I know you’re not a drinker. Funny story! Thank you for sharing it.

  2. Sinead says:

    I know it is no Blog Her convention, but I don’t read a lot of blogs … I mean I have read a lot of blogs but I don’t follow many – yours is one of three that I check in with regularly and look forward to your new posts.

    Like my reading material I like my blogs to have words – words that tell stories, give opinions and ring through. I don’t go for picture books … they are boring. I don’t mind the odd photo thrown in now and then – just for context … but I find photo blogs to be kind of empty. No soul and no truth.

    You can change any picture and make it prettier, more artistic or more exciting. You can’t do that with words – they are what they are – and I think yours are good.

  3. Lily says:

    I have been following your blog for a few months now. Your acidic wit is endearing and refreshing in a blog world where a lot of people sugar coat their opinions. After months of reading, though, I wonder if you are beginning to do just the opposite of sugarcoating things. I wonder if things are really as bad as you write them to be sometimes. It seems as though your writing has changed slightly from biting commentary more towards needless complaining. I like a good rant now and again just like anyone else, but I feel like you’re way too hard on yourself. This post almost seems to be fishing for compliments. Do you know how many people who would LOVE to have 100,000 hits on their blog??? You’re a talented writer with words people want to read! I loved the post about when you started dating Mr. Odie, I’d love to see more like that. Your posts don’t have to shit glitter; you don’t need to be Kelle Hampton or at the Latin Convention. I think what I’m saying is I’d just like to see the glass half full for you, at least once in awhile! 🙂

    • Mrs Odie 2 says:

      Guilty as charged, Ms. “” Culpable. Caught.
      I WAS fishing for compliments. I needed them. I was feeling mighty low. Thanks to those of you who gave me some. It made me feel better.
      I think that if you read my blog regularly, you see that I do see the glass half full very often. If you just read my KH posts, you will NOT see that.
      And Odie is just Odie. We don’t need those “Mr.” formalities. It’s his first name, not his surname.

  4. kelly says:

    Your writing is superior to any of the bloggers attending that convention. I shudder to think that Kelle Hampton and many of the others even call themselves writers. Dribblers would be a more accurate description. Diarrhea of the fingers even better. Your dream has come true — you ARE a writer. And a damn good one.

  5. Rosemary says:

    This year is sooooooo your year! Look at that beautiful little 6-week-old you’re schlepping around your living room – and tell me how creating a beautiful new life doesn’t qualify you as living in one of “your years”!
    It also qualifies you for a Sleep-Deprived-Person-of-the-Year Award! 🙂

    I think that being a member of this club, doesn’t make a person a writer, any more than having a Gymn membership makes a person fit! 🙂 You’re just as worthy a writer as anyone at the Blog Her convention – you’re busy right now – that’s all!

    For what it’s worth, I’m one of your readers that checks on you regularly – and when my email doesn’t link to a new post from you for awhile, I wonder if, and hope that, you’re OK!

    Take care………………….Rosemary

  6. Amory says:

    You are someone on my blog stalking list!!!!! And you are having a better time shhh’ing your infant in the comforts of your own home… not an uncomfy hotel lobby. 😉

  7. Meghan2 says:

    I am not as pithy as the previous commentors, but I would also like to add that you are a full fledged writer to me. You seriously make me laugh when I need too (like now) and at other random times in my day.

    Regarding Latin, I was neither, cool, smart or etc. but I went to a school that required Latin for three years as a second language (it was a school w/grades 7-12) and if you did a fourth you met the graduating requirement (if three was enough, you had to do two years of another language). I choose to do the four, but we didn’t have any Latin Convention. We had BUTT loads of homework, classwork and tests. But, now I can say “Always wear [where] underwear [under where]” in latin: “Semper ubi sub ubi.”

  8. cathycan says:

    I was a big fish in a small pond in high school and it was fun. Now i am a tiny fish in a giant aquarium and as long as I can slowly swim the the treasure chest bubbles once in a while, I’m pretty happy.
    Not to say I don’t whine now and then, looking at all the FABULOUSNESS can cause discontent. I just need to remember, swim through the bubbles, swim through the bubbles…

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