Mine wasn’t so much a dinner table as my lap. Yesterday I spent the afternoon at the Media140 conference which was about journalism in the age of social media (the 140 refers to the number of characters in a Twitter post – I didn’t realise that either, don’t worry). After listening to a couple of great sessions, I was on a panel talking about ‘Do journalists do it better”.
I think ‘it’ refers to social media but everyone on my panel kind of ignored the topic and just gave our own presentations. I’m going to post mine when it goes up. I really enjoyed the presentations I saw and there was some thought-provoking ideas and opinions presented by journalists, social media experts and others.
However the whole day was rather stressful because since it was a conference about social media (and one that seemed to focus on twitter), during each presentation, everyone in the audience and those watching it on the live stream online were madly contributing to a Twitter stream of commentary also known as ‘people-you’ve-never-met-telling-you-that-you’re-a-dickhead-in-real-time’.
So, of course, every panellist then got to check out everything that had been said about them when their session had finished. THAT WAS FUN. MUST DO IT AGAIN SOME TIME REAL SOON.
After one of those taxi rides home where the suspension is so bad it feels like your arse is dragging along the road, I staggered through the front door utterly exhausted, barely able to lift up the phone to order Indian takeaway.
I never feel hungry when I’m doing a public speaking thing – adrenalin I guess – but the minute it’s over, my appetite roars back and prevents me from completing any simple (let alone complex) task until I feed it IMMEDIATELY.
I ate half a Peppermint Magnum until the Indian arrived and then shoved garlic naan in my face so fast I nearly ate a couple of fingers along with it.
How did dinner go down at your place last night?