Last night, I attended Social Diva Celebrates Digital Divas, one of many events during New York City’s Social Media Week.
Really, the only reason I wanted to attend is because I have a strange fascination with Caroline McCarthy and her effortless rise to blogger stardom at CNET. In an interview with Gelf Magazine, she once said:
This is my first real job! I was a senior at Princeton and was getting ready to apply to journalism schools, because I wanted to write for a living (it’s what I’ve always wanted to do) but figured nobody would want to hire me because I had no background in the field. I saw a posting for an entry-level reporting gig at CNET on a job search site, and figured I’d apply on a whim. I couldn’t provide them any writing samples—I didn’t write for our school newspaper, and I figured they didn’t want to see the byline-free writing I’d done for Princeton’s proudly un-PC satire magazine—so it was sort of a miracle that they hired me.
I just had to see this superhuman creature in person.
And I did! She was wearing an emerald-colored cocktail dress, and her makeup was very pretty. I would tell you something less superficial about her, but the bar at the Hotel on Rivington was so crowded that I was only able to catch glimpses of her in the swarm.
I was relieved to run into my friend Sammy right away; otherwise, I would have been completely overwhelmed by the mosh pit that was the bar area. During my time at this event, I met one new person: someone who already knew Sammy and who was kind of drunk.
What was the point of this event? According to the Eventbrite page, I could “mix and mingle with social media’s finest Divas and even enjoy a Twitterific cocktail”.
What did I get out of the event? A chance to catch up with my friend, a free cocktail, and some head-bopping time.
I know what you’re saying – “But you didn’t try, Laryssa! You have to make an effort if you want to network!.
Networking is kind of tough when you’re trying to avoid getting rum spilled on your trendy outfit (in my case: jeans and my marshmallowey winter coat), dodging people rolling suitcases (it confused me too), and shouting over the loud music.
When I got home, exhausted, frustrated, and cold, I realized that Twitter isn’t all that bad.
Sure, you can’t see the people’s face, touch them lightly on the arm when they say something funny and/or endearing. You can’t wink at the cute guy across the room. But you can share and network in a quiet environment where no one is going to judge you for having ugly shoes.
Without Twitter, I never would be able to compliment Caroline on something she does well, like writing, even if she doesn’t respond.
(Photo by acnatta)
