Friday 24 June 2011

Not At CyberMummy

I was too busy looking for a job to look for a sponsor for CyberMummy this year, everything happened at the wrong time.  So instead of kicking up my heels in London and mingling with the great and good of the mummy blogging world, I'm sitting in front of my computer with a tub of icecream, Wimbledon on the telly, and a head full of hayfever.  There's a bottle or two of Cabernet Sauvignon in the cupboard, but I can't be bothered to get up & get any.  I'll just sit here with my ice cream.

I'll be honest.  If I'd made it, I would probably be sitting in my hotel room right now, on the laptop, watching the tennis and drinking a glass or two of wine on my own.  I'm far too shy and lacking in confidence to have braved going out, even though I've met some of the folk who are going to be there.  The night before the Graco press day, I shared a bottle of wine in the hotel bar with a couple of friends who live in London before retiring to bed at about 8.30 with a Ben & Jerry's from the vending machine & a bottle of lager, but you wouldn't have caught me venturing far, even if I hadn't had Squeaky with me.  I'm a wimp, plain & simple.

I never used to be.  I was the kind of girl who would go clubbing on her own, because I'd always see someone I knew.  I'd be happiest to be the centre of attention, because that's the place where people come to you.  Now if you put me in a room of strangers, you'll probably find I've got a book in my bag & I've spoken to no-one all day.

So.  If I make it to BlogCamp (I've registered for the Bristol one, but heard nothing back), or if the #notatcm11 twitter collective manage to put together a Wales &West satellite CyberMummy type event, someone please come & talk to me? I'm quite nice, and I'll talk to you if you talk to me, I just don't have the nerve to start the conversation myself.  (Also, these 9 years of living in Wales have had a strange effect on me. Every time I try to type CyberMummy, my fingers automatically go to the "m" key after I type Cy)

Oh yeah, and I spent a chunk of this evening taking photos of Squeaky with rubber ducks on her head in the bath & you didn't. So I win.

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