Fame Is A Bitch

Happy Monday chickens! I spent time over the weekend in Atlanta and got to watch the HBO premier of "Grey Gardens" and it was fabulous. I could not help but steal Big Edie's favorite endearment, expect me to go around for at least a week using it inappropriately on everyone.

Except for one person. She's going to get an "endearment" of her very own and it's not an affectionate one.

I went to Atlanta this weekend for the primary purpose of taking a writing seminar called "Blog Your Way Out Of The Recession" from a locally famous published author that I had long admired. I have been excited about this for a month as I move forward with a writing career, especially as this particular writer was someone whose life and sense of humor is as weird as my own. Now I'm sitting here after the horrible experience of it all shaking my head in disbelief that I actually spent my monthly allowance of La Mer Eye Concentrate so that I could spend the day with this condescending bitch.

I met her the first time last month at the Spring Book Convention and found her to be abrupt and dismissive with me, but I don't tend to take things personally. She seemed quite friendly to the other people that approached her. I had actually never heard of her until I had an essay accepted into a regional compilation being put together by Susan Reinhardt. If you've never read anything by her, run right out and get some of her books now, she's wonderful and funny. So I immediately went out to my local book emporium and bought the first book that "The Famous Author" wrote, and it was funny, offbeat and quirky which is just my type of preferred reading material. Later, I purchased her other two books to add to my library, so naturally I was excited about attending one of her highly acclaimed writing seminars. Apparently she is quite encouraging and nurturing with newbie writers.

Except for me. I felt like I had been sucked back in time to high school. The only thing missing in my nightmare was that I was not naked and unprepared for the final exam. She made a point of not greeting me when I came in, so I made myself a place at the conference table and started meeting all the other nice people attending. As we went around the table getting to know each other, one of the attendees was describing a wonderful blog he wanted to start and referenced a rather louche and hilarious blog called "Rate My Tits" that I check in on every now and then for a good laugh. She turns to me in highly exaggerated shock and made some crack about how she couldn't believe a soccer mom like me would know about a site like that.

Soccer mom? I'm sorry, on what planet do soccer moms wear Prada shoes and Philip Lim 3.1? Not in Atlanta I can assure you. Those ladies are all about the Talbots and maybe a nice little Kate Spade shoe/bag combo. Nothing wrong with that; just not my particular style.

Anyway, after a lifetime of dealing with petty bitches like this, I am a pro at ignoring them. I know when I'm dealing with some one's inner ugly, weird, loner girl and don't have time to coddle their insecurity. I was there to learn the ins and outs of being a successful blogger, not play head games with mean girls. She hosted the seminar with an awesome writer, Michael Alvear. He's a blogger with the Huffington Post, plus co-hosts HBO's series "The Sex Inspectors", has written a few books, and most importantly is probably one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen.

Which means in Atlanta that he is gay. However he still provides delightful eye candy and was a much needed break when I got tired of looking at her. Do check out his site at http://www.michaelalvear.com/ and look for his relationship advice book "Men Are Pigs, But We Love Bacon". It's the last book about men you will ever need and I plan on buying everyone I know a copy for Christmas/Hanukkah/Ramadan/Diwali or whatever heathen holiday they celebrate. If you are a friend or family member of mine, I am so sorry to ruin your surprise.

I did get to discuss my blog and it's evolution. At this point my most popular post has been "Sacred Cows Get Photoshopped", where I took a scary picture of my middle aged body and placed it next to a digitally enhanced middle aged Valerie Bertinelli. The point of the post was that a few Jenny Craig meals and a little exercise were not going to turn you into a People cover girl, plus I am tired of having unrealistic media images still being shoved at women. Just let us age gracefully without all the pressure of having to look like supermodels, dammit!

Well that didn't sit too well with "The Famous Writer". Apparently I don't look like the average middle aged woman to her and this seems to be quite a problem for her. She was quick to tell me she had a C-section scar and grew her boobs post childbirth.

Well woop-di-fucking-do. She was lucky to get a free pair. I grew mine in 2006 after a two hour procedure as I got tired of watching my very tiny ones sliding, not sagging, down my chest. I had erroneously assumed that small boobied girls didn't sag and I was correct. They looked instead like two fried eggs slithering down a grill, and just for once I wanted to have boobs that I didn't put away in a drawer at night.

I would guess my current blog didn't impress her too much, as she kept trying to get me to drag my library experience into it. I am currently writing a "fiction" book with those experiences in the hopes of not being ostracized by my small community, plus not blowing the confidentiality of the lovely people that trust me with their secrets.

After she finished praising and encouraging everyone else, we met with Grayson Daughters. Now this is a fabulous person and I look forward to working with her in the future. She even mentioned she thought she had seen my blog, which just saved the whole day for me. If you ever, ever want to see a fantastic website go to http://www.truegritz.com/. She actually has done so much with her writing, and her resume is phenomenal.

Despite the pettiness of "The Famous Writer", the day was not a total loss. I met an entire room of the most fabulous bloggers and wanna-be bloggers ever. Everyone had a great angle for their blog, and the variety of blogs they wish to generate was staggering. Here's a few of the ideas:

• Jim, who wants a blog describing current events and how many beers you would need to deal with them, plus gives gourmet beer pairings. Brilliant!
• Rachel, the hilarious lady that lives with almost as many dogs as I have cats.
• Brittany, who is currently running a blog on MySpace called "Snarky the Clown". She is a true example of how quiet girls are the funniest. I can't wait to read her blog as I did not get a chance last night.
• Ilene and Lysa, the Clayton Place girls. They live in a tiny little town up in Rabun County and tell scandalous tales about it. I called my BF last night to tell her I had met our North Georgia counterparts. We need to go visit these two, but I'm afraid we would all end up in jail. They should be putting their blog together soon, so I will definitely be looking for this one.
• The Peach Tart, whose real name I forgot. She was just a riot and has a book coming out, plus is working on a blog about screwing around in the kitchen--real screwing around. This is going to be a good one. She currently has a website that is darling: http://www.thepeachtart.com/

There were so many more that were also wonderful, but I just couldn't remember everyone. Finally it was time to go and I was dreading the long drive home. I got to say my farewells to my new friends and take one last look at the truly original art work. I should have grabbed a piece for the Teenager, he would have loved it. I spent much of the conference trying to pick out my favorite piece for him and finally decided just to look up the gallery online to purchase something later.

"The Famous Writer" had one final coup de grace for me. She stopped me at the door and thanked me for surprising her. Apparently I'm not as "prissy" as she had assumed I would be from her perception of my appearance. Showing much grace under pressure, I didn't share the fact that she wasn't anything like I had perceived her either.

And finally this morning I opened the email she sent out to all the attendees so that we would have each other's blog information and emails. Despite having written my name and email on the sign in sheet, all of my information was incorrect in her email. Name and email address. At least the blog name was correct. Oh well, fucked in absentia as well. I just shook my head and put it behind me as I pushed the delete button.

Love and Kisses,

Cult Diva