Anissa, a mother of three who writes here, has a long road to recovery after suffering a major stroke last month. Cleveland blogger Chef's Widow was gracious enough to organize a happy hour benefit in her name.
I knew I wanted to attend, but . . . could I conquer my overwhelming fear of meeting fellow bloggers in the flesh? My reluctance to haul myself downtown during rush hour? My nagging desire to just stay home eating ice cream and watching reality TV wearing a pair of elastic-waisted yoga pants, instead?
I did.
And I discovered that it's good to come out of your shell every once in awhile to talk to living, breathing humans who enjoy blogging as much as you do, whatever their aim or niche.
I also learned that:
- Bloggers don't bite. Except when they're sinking their teeth into The Greenhouse Tavern chef Jonathan Sawyer's mouth watering wings.
- OHMommy is just as fabulous in real life as she is on her blog. In fact, if you email her to say you are sort of freaking about attending an event where you won't know anyone else, she will totally offer to come over and pick you up.
Heartmychloe, OHMommy, and me
- World renowned chef Michael Symon is super friendly and approachable, even when you're all up in his grill with your point and click camera after three glasses of wine:
The Iron Chef and I - The name of my blog sounds weird when you say it out loud. "Rimarama" (Meep! Meep!)
The Chef's Widow
