I attended BlogHer Food in Austin

I did. And imma gonna tell you about it.

It was kind of was what I expected it to be in most ways. I’m glad it wasn’t a huge, sprawling conference and glad there was ample, ample time for networking with newbies, friends, brands, big-time food bloggers and others. Maybe it was my inexperience navigating the conference, but I felt it was a little light on the learning opportunities. I wanted more sessions!

I got to Austin the day before the conference and after settling into The Bubble, I headed over to the Tasty Kitchen party. It was a relaxing room full of awesome women who noshed on delicious food and sipped from an open bar. In fact, the hostess fetched me a drink just as soon as I walked in the door. 

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 There was a catch. Ahem.

I talked to Rebecca from Foodie with Family for a good long while (a blessed, recurring theme throughout the weekend) and after a couple of delicious and not-too-sweet margaritas, I sauntered over to the buffet for a snack. Looking around the room of confident women bloggers is a special kind of hell for me. See…they all seem to know each other well. Like old friends. They are old friends. I’m still a pretty new kid on this go round of writing on the Internet. There were no natural empty seats with people and I wanted to meet these ladies. I also wanted to eat. I inhaled the delicious scent of sauteed spinach and simmered black beans and reminded myself, “Comparison is the thief of joy. Just go eat alone. One thing at a time.” 

I found a corner with two large, empty sofas and sat down. As I tucked into my deliciousness, a nice lady walked up and asked if I minded if she sat. Perfect! We chatted one on one for 20 minutes or so and remembering that I was supposed to be networking, I fished a business card from my purse. She looked at it strangely, paused, and said, “I think I followed you on Twitter today.”

 

Yep, Merry from The Merry Gourmet  and I had chatted each other up for a good, long while before discovering we’d already met briefly on The Twitters, thanks to Vivian. And, eventually, once my blood sugar raised and my inhibitions lowered, I chatted with lots more people. Elise Bauer from Simply Recipes and her beau, Diane from Momo Fali, Meseidy from The Noshery, and a bunch of other women whose names I almost immediately forgot because…open bar.

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After several more appetizers, a few hours and a bunch of water, I snuck out of the party and raced across town to catch the last 1/3 of Matt the Electrician at Strange Brew. I almost blew it off, but so glad I didn’t.

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The next morning I headed to breakfast and then my first session, Principals of Storytelling. Almost immediately my table began exchanging business cards and I panicked. I wasn’t going to have enough to last through Day 1, much less Day 2.

::Activate MacGyver Mode::

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I searched for “business cards in downtown Austin” and came up with Paper Source. Perfect! A cab ride later I bought blanks and a nice felt-tipped pen, tweeted a pic of my cashier to The Pioneer Woman (I overheard her being a superfan) and strolled over to 24 Diner for workspace and glass of cava. Then I walked back a mile to the convention center. It was then I decided that Day 2 would not include my camera equipment and laptop. (ouch) To answer your question, I really don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I thought I’d be able to hail a cab on the way? Stop. I can hear you laughing.

The rest of the day was a bust, content-wise, but the evening brought foodie excursions out in Austin. 

Maria’s Taco Xpress. Whip In. Gourdoughs.

First stop! #AusProgEats

#ausprogeats #blogherfood2013

Fat Elvis, lit by the glow of a Moontower. #ausprogeats #blogherfood2013 #peanutbutter #banana #bacon

If you want more detail, feel free to meander over to Twitter or Instagram and search the hashtag #austinprogeats. I won’t spoil the whole story but I will tell you that Whip In is a Indian-fusion Gastropub and Gourdoughs sold me a donut topped with peanut butter icing, grilled bananas and bacon. It’s amazing I even came home.

Saturday was more conferencing, though this day’s sessions spoke to me far more than Friday’s did. My favorite session was called Blog on the Run and taught by Mallory Dash. Later in the evening I made my first pilgramage to Stubb’s BBQ for BBQ (duh) and a party hosted by Ree, Jaden and Elise. Ree told bad jokes. There was much merriment. I line danced and wore a pretty dress. Most of the bloggers from my last trip to The Ranch were in attendance and it was nice to catch up with them. So, I guess I maybe DID know some folks after all.

The day still wasn’t over! While at the party I got a call from my cutie neighbor with the invite to come see the new restaurant he was helping to open. So glad I did. 

Turns out it is called Eden East. It is on a farm. In Austin. Hyperlocal dining at its best. 

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I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t even eat and I didn’t want to leave. Then I woke up the next morning, didn’t want to leave, went to 24 Diner to eat a waffle, didn’t want to leave… then drove home.

I moved.

I’m tempted to let this post be then entirety of my thoughts on the subject.

I moved. The end. 

BUT… it’s been good. It’s tough to move houses and even tougher to move when it is a facet of starting your life over. To say that I had a mental block on packing is an understatement akin to saying, “Yeah, it’s a little warm in Oklahoma in August.”

I had several kick-ass friends come help me, though. Shelley, Glynis, Sara, Lindsay, Ryan and Rachael all helped me pack. If it wasn’t for the guilt of them giving me their time and resources, I would still be in the ghost house wishing for a fairy to save me. I got more than one fairy….the gratitude overwhelms me. Every day. 

Monday morning, after I went for my “run”, had a shower and breakfast, two enormously strong men arrived at my doorstep with a big truck. After a few hours the truck was half full and the tall one strutted past me with my entire queen-sized mattress on his shoulder like it was a scarf and I decided to marry him. For a minute. 

Oh. Hell. Yes.

Now, I’m in the new house. The walls are freshly painted and the floors are freshly redone. The whole craftstman-style house is nearing 100 years old but is glorious and has that new-house smell. So much smell than I will be sleeping with two air purifiers in my bedroom tonight. This is above my mantel, as it has been at my last two homes. 

"Getting lost will help you find yourself." @holstee #manifestoThis is not the path I chose. Not by a long shot. But damn it all to hell if I’m not going to make it shine. Onward and upward, beotches**. 

 

**Seriously unrelated: Please visit any and all websites (including your personal Twitter accounts) through this: www.gizoogle.net. Thanks fo’ tha headz up, Matt.

 

We saw Seryn at The Blue Door in Oklahoma City, then in our living room.

A couple of weeks ago one of my friends, Geoff, texted me that Seryn was coming to my favorite venue in Oklahoma, The Blue Door. I’ve wanted to see this band for a year or so and was half-heartedly thinking about a trip to Dallas in June to catch them. But…they were coming to my backyard! Nearly literally! The Blue Door is about 3 miles from my current house (about 1.5 from my new). 

The show was on a Wednesday night, which is a night when I always have my kids. They had been to their first show a couple of weeks ago and these tickets were only $10, so… family outing! The day of the show I took them straight home from school for snacks and disco naps. We were all set. 

Seryn on Band Camp. Feel free to start the music while you read this post. 

Geoff, his wife Holly and two of their kids saved us a seat on the front row. They also saved us cupcakes. 

Cupcakes & Seryn

The show was incredible. I get a little judgey of bands who fill the stage with lots of people as often one or two of those people’s only function seems to be to provide body count and perhaps more cowbell. Not the case here. They keep six musicians on stage who all play something besides their primary instruments. And what a line up of instruments! That night I saw banjo, drum kit, extra tom tom for the lead singer, violin, ukelele, misc percussion, several assorted guitars, electric bass (sometimes played with a bow), two xylophones (one sometimes played with a bow) and a partridge in a pear tree.

Additional elements of the soundscape were provided by Mother Nature. That night a typical, tornado-possible, dramatic spring storm came rumbling through the state. As several of the songs ended in their beautiful, delicate arrangements the music would soften into near silence while the thunder rolled in the distance, seemingly on cue. It was magical.

They had two more members of the band who were production people to help with things like sound and merchandise. Eight total. As the show ended, Holly heard one of the band members mention that they needed a place to stay. She wished they could but their house was in El Reno, 1/2 an hour away. 

Flash to a seemingly unrelated moment earlier in the day when I saw my friend Ann post that she often makes decisions based on the story it would provide to her life. And that she was moving to live on a chicken farm.

Seryn was my chicken farm.

I gave my contact info to Jenny, the only female band member. That seemed the least creepy way to go about it. I am not one so desperate for a story that I’ll hand my name, address, phone number and Instagram handle to a guy. Yet. 

I told Jenny that I had a five bedroom house about three miles away. That we were about half-moved out and that there weren’t enough beds for everyone. She enthusiastically said they mostly needed just a roof and floor. I moved my son’s extra mattress to an empty bedroom and put my daughter into my bed before they arrived. (BTW, it’s been years since I’ve slept with her. What an ENORMOUS bed hog.) Sure enough, about 40 minutes later after I arranged kids into bed, she called to say they were on their way. 

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My front door seemed like the gateway from another realm. Eight hipster humans, all very nice (and most very tall) entered my living room laden with backpacks and pillows then took off their shoes. I really urged them to look at the carpet because that wasn’t necessary, but like I said….they were nice. They thanked me profusely, asked for the showers, asked for directions for fast food and worked out their sleeping arrangements. It turns out that only three of the eight had to sleep on the floor (I think. I didn’t check with my own eyes.) I stayed up late talking with one person or another. I had a long, lovely conversation with Trenton about SXSW, Newport Folk Festival (bucket list for both of us for different reasons) and the Telluride Bluegrass Festival (which both of us loved dearly for the same reasons). And about his Native American culture, lovely wife who is in the restaurant biz and music in general.

After not enough sleep, I got up and got the kids ready for school. We walked softly around the house and tiptoed through the living room. My daughter whispered as she looked at the guys sleeping on the sofas, “This is so weird. But so cool.”

I took them to breakfast at Kitchen No. 324 after promising them that it really was just down the road. I think I clinched it when I explained the “free” part. They marveled at the space (hell, I still marvel at the space) and raved about the food. I was proud and happy to have extended hospitality to a group of talented artists who were also nice people. If you get a chance, check out a tour date. 

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