So, I’ve been In New York for about twenty four hours.

BlogHer has been interesting.

I’m feeling overwhelmed.  But, not quite in the way I expected.  I don’t want to elaborate too much because I’m not a ranter.

Let’s just say, I’ve done some watching while I’m here.

I’ve watched how one “type” of blogger will treat another “type” of blogger, and I’m… surprised.  More on this later.  Much later.  Maybe never.  I don’t know.

Okay, how about I just say that there’s something reminiscent about Pink Ladies and Heathers and it’s all very surreal?  And, some of it, frankly is just tacky.

Everyone deserves to have a smile returned with some degree of genuine feeling, their name asked of them and “Nice to meet you” said to them.

That’s all I’m saying.  I don’t care who you are… that’s just good manners.  And, no, I wasn’t snubbed (much) by anyone, but I’ve seen it happen at least a dozen times in the past day and it just hurts my heart.

It also hurts my head to see grown women act like thirteen year old sheep.

I had this voluminous post typed up about myself that I intended to post here as a “landing page” of sorts. It was suggested to me that I do this because maybe someone would get my card or a link here at the conference and they might want to know more about my blog or me, etc.

I deleted that post.

Because I think that every prize requires some effort.

Inside this blog, there are posts that contain wisdom, beauty and heart.  Those valuable gems, though?  Are only visible when a person takes a genuine interest in finding them.

These treasures also only reveal themselves to the people who search with the conviction that they exist in the first place.  Those worthy few… they are the ones I’m interested in meeting here.  People who believe that everyone has something to offer, and that they, in turn, can also offer in return.

I’m lucky that I’ve already met a few such women.  I’m also a little disappointed that I haven’t met more.

Getting to know a person or a blog requires effort.  Value is not apparent on the surface.

Not on the first page that you see.

Vaue lies deep beneath.  Sometimes it lives in something bright, shiny and popular.  Sometimes it flowers in the shade of relative anonymity.

Either way, the prize belongs to those willing to search for it.