The Most Boring Person I Met At BlogWorld

Two months ago I don’t know any bloggers.

Well, that’s not entirely true.   I was aware of The Bloggess and I once went back and forth via email with dooce.   By the way, at BlogWorld someone purported that Heather Armstrong (dooce) has more influence, because she has a bigger total audience, than Oprah.   Even if that’s not true, it’s cool to hear.

Now that my site is being read by more than just my parents, I have a TON of bloggers who seem to enjoy my crap.   And a lot of them are some of the sweetest and most fun people I’ve met.   You know, for nerds.

Tonight, I’m staying at a fan-turned-friend’s home.   She will be launching a blog in December.   We’ll be friends forever, I’m pretty sure.   I already had the lockets made.

Last night at the end of BlogWorld celebration, however, I met the most boring broad at BlogWorld.   (That alliteration was unintentional, but after reading it back, I’m leaving it in.   Don’t judge me.)

Her name is Megan and she introduced herself on the dance floor.   Meaning she grinded on me.   Hard.

No, we just happened to be on the dance floor and I went up and talked to her and her friend Angie.   Because they looked really fun.

Within thirty seconds I realized that that once again, I can tell who a fun person is just by examining their outsides.

We’re way too hard on ourselves about superficial judgment.   It works pretty well most of   the time.

You have to understand that at BlogWorld, everyone here is insanely passionate about something.   In a session yesterday, a man named Dave turned to me and started talking.   He works for Boeing, and when I asked him if he was an airplane blogger, he said, “Oh no, I just went through a bone cancer thing this summer.”

Just to be a dick I replied with a disappointed, “So you DON’T write about airplanes?”   Then I turned away.

Okay, that was a joke.   I’m not a total sociopath.   But how amazing is that?   It was sort of a bummer to reply with, “Um, I once wrote two stories about my dad’s dork.”   I felt like a total asshole.

So, when I asked Megan what she blogged, I expected her to write about something awesome like fashion.   Or being a woman.   Or rainbows and unicorns.   You know, girl things.

She replied really enthusiastically, “I work for a credit union, and do all their social media!”

I just stared at her blankly.   Then, literally, I turned to her friend Angie.   Thank God she did NOT work for a credit union.

Megan screamed, “Why does everyone keep doing that?!”

Because nobody knows exactly what a credit union is, and more importantly, nobody gives a shit.   I mean, honestly.   That’s a more ridiculously stupid idea that the chick I met who blogs with the title, “Hot Chicks With HPV.”   Okay, don’t Google that.   I made it up.

So, Megan had an uphill climb with me.   Her job sucks.

But not to her.   She was so pumped about what she did, and not in a hey-let-me-overcompensate-for-my-lame-job way.   She was passionate and genuine.

I still dubbed her The Most Boring Person at Blogworld.   I mean, somebody had to win.   Then I spilled my Sprite on her shoe.   But she didn’t notice.   Solid.

And then we talked for several hours.   I couldn’t stay away.   She was great.

Oh, this is funny.   Because she happens to be really hot, a TON of guys kept coming over to us and hitting on her.   One guy from the Middle East came over, said his name and then kissed her on both cheeks.   By the way, I’m pretty sure they don’t do that in the Middle East.   Then he just stared at her and stood next to me.   It was awesome.

The night before at another party some lowlife blogger slapped her ass.   She, of course, is married and wears a ring.   That, too, is awesome.   Guys are funny.

I guess this weekend taught me more about “finding my tribe.”   We all need community.   For support, mostly.   To share passion and to follow each other into the future.   I suspect Megan and I will be buddies.

And, quite honestly, The Most Boring Person at Blogworld was still one of the most fun and sweet people I’ve met all year.   I’m glad I was here.