This is for anyone who’s been somewhere alone and had to overcome fear of being too shy, too lame, or like my fear: turning into an awkward stand-up comic and ultimately offending people.

Yes, it’s true, like many of you, I have lot’s of virtual friends.  Whether they’re old high school buddies that you communicate with mostly on FB or blog commenters, the entire twitter community, or exes you have kinky late night sexting with (I don’t judge), you’re aware that this tech bond exists.

I’ve been blogging for about 4 years, and over that time I’ve made many many many virtual friends.  I don’t want to brag, but tons of people, who don’t know me, really like me.

Wait, I feel that came out wrong.

Anyhoo, I got to meet many of those people this weekend and I think some are still my friends. Though these meetings didn’t come without their share of fear and trepidation. Yes, I was in the 7th grade this weekend – a grade I categorically erased from my memory after I did a solo performance of Madonna’s “Get Into The Groove” at that year’s talent show, during which I fell to the floor and cried.

I attended my first real blog conference, MOM 2.0 Summit, which is the ultimate in upscale blog conferences, as I’m sure you already know, I mean, DUH?  It was at the Ritz – obvi.  The peeps were successful, the speakers were brilliant, and the liquor was filled with alcohol.

I spent the first hour walking back and forth from my room to the registration area, as I was scared to talk to anyone – and I had nothing else to do with myself.  After the woman in the sign-up suite looked at me for the 5th time and said, “Um ma’am just give us 3 more minutes.” in a Why the f@ck do you keep lollygagging and peeking in? You clearly don’t belong here and simply want to steal a DOVE gift bag – well, I’ll throw off my bifocals and beat you down to the ground – BITCH. Kinda way.  What? I can tell what people are truly thinking.  It’s a gift.

Hour 2 and 3 – I spent at the pool – by myself.  On a lounge chair – alone. Ordering and eating my lunch – solo.  Staring at my phone and pretending I had a ton of work to do on my iPad, which was in fact, dead.  Yes, I was somewhere between giggling and crying as I wrote pretend emails, in reply to pretend messages.
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