The conference was over (a little bit of a "finally," right there, because picture being spun around a hundred times and then, pushed off a cliff. That was the weekend, more or less), and the UnConference was starting, in one of the smaller meeting rooms. Mo Pie and I had dropped by to see what was going on, to say goodbye to people before we had to leave ourselves. The shape of the UnConference was interesting--a room full of people, all of whom got to suggest topic ideas for panels to throw over the next eight hours. They said, "Come put a session on the board!" and it seemed that nearly everyone in the room got up and started writing down their ideas. With so many people lining up sessions to lead, we wondered who would be left to actually attend the sessions. Too many bloggers, too little audience.

All weekend, it was so many bloggers, and all weekend, we talked about ourselves, and what we write and how we write and how to write more and what to write about when we're writing even more, and how to take our blogs and make them bigger, stronger, faster, more exciting with better bells and whistles. We talked about how to make the leap from writing online to the fancy, legitimate world of publishing. We talked a lot about ourselves, and it was very important and we had many good things to say about how blogging is going to save the world, but mostly, we really did talk a whole lot about ourselves.

Sometimes, we talked about you. We talked about how to make you a community, how to reach you, how to keep you, how to thrill you right down to your toes, how to make you love us. We talked about you, but when it comes right down to it, I don't think we talked enough about how important you are. How without you, we're pretty much talking to ourselves. It's clear that we can spend an entire weekend talking to each other about ourselves, so that will sustain us for awhile, but then, we will slowly collapse and crumble and blow away, and then what will you do? Probably go read a book.

Bloggers make the blog go--we natter on, and then we publish. But you guys are what make it work. You guys are what make the blog happen. A tree in the forest falling down, a blog without an audience. We might as well be writing in our diaries and then locking them, if it wasn't for you guys.

The best parts of the conference:

• Weetabix and I talking to the ridiculously awesome Jessica and Charlene about how lucky we are, to have readers like you guys, who get what we're saying, and say things better than we ever could.

• Big Fat Deal meetup, the textbook example of exactly what a blog can create, how it can bring together a group of funny, smart, outrageously sassy women who have important things to say...and like to drink mimosas.

• Talking to the adorable Kaboodle girls over delicious drinks about how bloggers will not always have a lock on content creation, and we ought to watch our backs--and being glad about it.

• Comparing comment and email notes with the stunning Jennette--so many smart people reading us, with so many good things to say. So we sometimes wonder why we're the ones behind the keyboard.

• Also, you guys? I met Grover.