***THIS GIVEAWAY IS NOW CLOSED.***
The universe works in mysterious ways, and sometimes, even a giveaway winner’s email can bounce. After a minor hiccup, I had the pleasure of selecting a new lucky recipient. A huge congratulations to Jessica, our latest winner!
By now, your blog reader or social media feed has likely been inundated with enthusiastic recaps of the Haven Conference. Perhaps you’re already feeling a sense of recap fatigue, or maybe a twinge of annoyance if you missed out and are tired of hearing about the fun. So, what’s my solution? Let’s dive right back into the conversation! Yes, you read that right. I’m about to serve up yet another conference recap, but with a unique twist that might just make you crack a smile.
Instead of another gushing account of how wonderfully all us bloggers connected and adored each other (and trust me, we absolutely did!), I’m here to offer you an exclusive, no-holds-barred look at some of the more delightfully awkward encounters I had the distinct pleasure of not just being in the middle of, but often, the unwitting cause of. Consider this your backstage pass to the cringe-worthy, the comical, and the downright clumsy moments that peppered my Haven experience. And for sticking with me through this journey of social missteps, there’s even a special treat for one lucky reader. (No actual quiz, I promise, so feel free to skim – but you might miss some gems!)
Leading up to the conference, I harbored a rather significant apprehension that I might struggle to connect with my fellow bloggers. My rationale was simple: my life felt fundamentally different from the idealized, family-oriented narratives I often encountered in the DIY and home decor blogging sphere. I live alone; many are part of bustling households. I am single; most are happily married. I have Charlie, my beloved canine companion; they have children. My sense of humor, often fueled by copious amounts of Family Guy and South Park references, tends to lean towards the less refined. Hand me a beer, and my natural volume setting jumps straight to eleven. Furthermore, I felt a deep sense of imposter syndrome regarding my blog engagement. While many other bloggers are meticulously attentive to each other’s projects and posts, I’d been navigating the demanding waters of grad school, and, to add to the chaos, I hadn’t had a fully functional bathroom since March. Essentially, I hadn’t been the “good blogger” who consistently commented and supported others, leaving me feeling unprepared to initiate conversations with polished lines like, “Hi, I absolutely adored your kitchen remodel!” Of course, this isn’t to say there weren’t abundant commonalities – after all, we were all gathered at a conference centered around DIY home improvement and design. It’s just that, for a multitude of reasons, my attempts to make a memorable (and often funny) impression frequently backfired, leaving me with the distinct sensation that I should just stuff my business cards into my mouth to prevent another mortifying sentence from escaping.
The contrasts became glaringly apparent in several conversations. When someone finished regaling me with a heartwarming or hilarious anecdote about their children, my carefully curated, yet utterly irrelevant, contribution would emerge:
“Um… my dog once climbed onto my roof.”
The silence that often followed spoke volumes. It wasn’t that their stories weren’t delightful, but my brain, trying desperately to find common ground, could only retrieve anecdotes from my own very distinct life experiences. Similarly, when a fellow blogger eloquently discussed their impressive lawn care or intricate landscaping projects, I found myself stumbling to offer anything remotely comparable:
“…I didn’t even know my bonsai plant was living for four months.”
Again, the pause, the polite smile. It was a stark reminder of the different stages of life and homeownership we all inhabited. Then there was the recurring theme of my blog’s rather memorable name. Upon introducing myself as “Sarah… from The Ugly Duckling House?” I was met, on more than one occasion, with a jovial, yet slightly mortifying, exclamation: “Oh, right! You’re the ugly girl!” My internal monologue would scream, “Um… not exactly…!” It was a testament to the power of branding, perhaps, but certainly not the impression of grace and charm I aspired to project.
The struggle to maintain a semblance of competence continued into discussions about conference sessions. When asked, “Are you taking the furniture painting class?” my response, delivered with an almost apologetic shrug, highlighted my current chaotic reality:
“Nope. I can’t even pee and shower in the same room. So, um, furniture isn’t a priority right now.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t *want* to learn furniture painting; it was just that my immediate home improvement needs were far more fundamental. These candid admissions often felt more revealing than intended, stripping away any pretense of being a perfectly put-together DIY guru.
Another classic case of foot-in-mouth disease struck during a conversation with the wonderfully talented Roeshel. Admiring her gorgeous conference bag, adorned with her blog’s logo, I blurted out:
“Ooh, I love that bag. But I thought you had a red logo?”
A beat of silence. Then, the mortifying realization dawned: she had completely redesigned her blog, and I, having primarily read it through my phone app, hadn’t noticed the significant aesthetic overhaul. Whoops. The digital world, while connecting us, can sometimes create these odd disconnects, leaving one feeling entirely out of touch. And speaking of names, I completely blanked on Carmel from Our Fifth House. For someone already challenged with remembering names, trying to recall both a person’s name *and* their blog name felt like an impossible mental acrobatic feat. To my everlasting embarrassment, I repeatedly called her Carmen. She was incredibly gracious about it, but I felt like an absolute ass for the entire exchange.
Beyond verbal blunders, my awkwardness found other avenues for expression. Living in the Atlanta area, I didn’t require a hotel room, which meant I found myself in a rather undignified situation when it came time to change for the evening cocktail party. While everyone else enjoyed the privacy of their hotel rooms, I was the girl in the bustling lobby bathroom, awkwardly wriggling into a cocktail dress. I simply plopped my bag down on the floor and maneuvered into my attire, as if this were the most normal thing in the world, completely oblivious to the glances. The contrast between my impromptu dressing room and others’ luxurious preparations was palpable, adding another layer to my conference experience.
The cocktail party itself presented a fresh set of challenges. I found myself engaged in pleasant conversations with several attendees, but as I mingled, it felt as though someone had cranked the room temperature up to an unholy 200 degrees. I found myself repeatedly fanning the back of my dress, knowing full well that the alternative was a noticeable, giant sweat streak. I seemed to be the only one overtly affected at the time. Explaining my sudden, inexplicable hot flashes helped cool my embarrassment somewhat for those close enough to hear my mumbled excuses. However, for the ladies across the room, I probably just looked like I was vigorously fanning a fart – a truly elegant visual, I’m sure.
To cap off the parade of peculiarities, I even won a giveaway for stopping by one of the vendor booths – a Kreg Jig. This fantastic tool, an absolute game-changer for any DIY enthusiast, felt like a true blessing. Except for one minor, rather awkward detail: I already own one. And while I love, love, LOVE this tool, one is sufficient for my needs. For those unfamiliar, the Kreg Jig K4 Pocket Hole System, along with the Kreg KHC-PREMIUM Face Clamp, simplifies joinery, making projects like my super easy DIY craft desk incredibly accessible. Rather than let this duplicate sit unused, I decided to pay it forward to one of my wonderful readers. After all, shouldn’t you, my loyal audience, benefit from my awkwardness? It was, in many ways, the foundational principle of this blog when I first started writing: “Learn from my mistakes.” And now, having come full circle from my early blunders to winning a tool I already possess, I’m left wondering where to go from here with the site. Awkward, indeed, but always an adventure.
*Totally kidding about the quiz. But seriously, aren’t you glad we got the chance to get to know each other a little better through these shared (and sometimes self-inflicted) moments of conference awkwardness? It’s these real, unvarnished experiences that truly connect us.