Today I went to my first blogade, hosted by Joyce Hanson of the Bad Girl Blog at Old Brick in Kensington. Joyce requested, well, encouraged attendees to read or share something from our blogs, which made me a little nervous to say the least. My husband told me he thought there'd be maybe 2 or 3 other bloggers there but what does he know, there were more than twenty, and I got to meet some very fine people and writers. I heard Shelly from Shellytown read a selection about being "On The Outside" which I was really enjoying until my dang cel phone started to ring. Doh!
Lisanne from Found in Brooklyn read her post about her experience in the Mermaid Parade, a subject as juicy as it gets, especially since it featured water guns. She had helped me pick my selection, which was about eavesdropping while shopping at C-town, a post called Sad about Tuna I wrote not long ago, featuring a Ouija Board. Joyce read a post about her gardening exploits rich with a very poignant cocktail of misguided gardening and cultural collision. Chris from the Flatbush Gardener began with a post regarding Corcoran Realty trying to persuade Victorian Flatbush home owners to pave their front yards. Elizabeth, who writes Midnight Cowgirls, read a post about a naked screaming crazy person who rolled around in his own shit, which was a crowd pleaser that left us all feeling a little better about ourselves. Rob of the Luna Park Gazette read a post about memorable times spent with his father, who is now struggling with alzheimer's. Ok, that sentence really did not do justice to the post, just so you know.
But then I had to go, missing out on at least two thirds of the readers, which included representatives of the blog Creative Times and OTBKB, and many more who I regret not meeting. It was before dessert and I was spaced out from drinking a tiny glass of wine, which Joyce called courage juice for my benefit, when I had to hit the road. I'm sure I missed some very good things, but truncated good times are better than none. Especially when the food was very satisfying and I got to try Burek for the first time. The pastry, popular throughout the Ottoman Empire as I understand, can also be spelled börek, if you prefer an umlaut.
Sorry I don't have linksage for everything above, and of course, that the list of shared posts isn't complete. It would be lovely if it were.
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2 comments:
Hey, it's me (the one with the shitty story). It was nice to meet you yesterday. You have a lovely blog here, and perhaps I'll see you at another Blogade or some such thing.
Hey, too bad you had to go as the rest of the readings were as good as the ones pre-dessert...but as you say truncated is better than nothing. The burek was the BOMB! That was my favorite thing I think. I think they gave me more food to take home than I had on my plate, if that's possible. Love that Macedonian hospitality!
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