Showing posts with label bloggers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bloggers. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

An un-recap of BlogHer '10

(I tried really hard to add some pictures to this post but Blogger is being a complete douche canoe so for now think of this as one of those old school, photo-less posts.)

I sat down to write my BlogHer recap post, I put aside time, put the kids down for a nap and everything, but I found that I... can’t. I can’t write about it. I tried, I really did. But... no.

I want to write in depth about the love and community and sisterhood (okay, there were some brothers there too) I felt at the conference this year. And the lack of drama! Hooray!

I wanted to write about getting my groove back, at least for a few days. About high heels and pretty dresses and statement necklaces (!) (some of those sparkly gems deserve extra exclamation points) and getting my hair done up in rollers while in the midst of a hundred people and the stylist’s shock at how well my hair took a curl. (*brush, brush, brush some more, now brush it that way and back again, flat iron, brush brush brush*. Damn.)

I wanted to write about how I had planned to hang it up once I got back - give up blogging, no more conferences, maybe even shutting down my Twitter account (*cue collective gasps*) - but how being surrounded by so many influential women who have created so much from “just” a blog... Well, at least I’m inspired to get off my couch more, if not fully bitten by the writing bug yet.

I wanted to write about how I acted like a five year old during my first trip to NYC since I was little girl and spent most of my time outside the hotel looking around like I had never seen a tall building before, and Wow! All the people in New York are so beautiful! (“No Tania, just the ones on Park Avenue.”) And how I would totally move there if only I could take just a half acre of my land with me. I could be convinced to lower that to a third. A quarter?

I wanted to talk about dancing (except for those Amish types) and dinner at midnight with people I love and people I had just met (whom I now love) and meeting kindred spirits who are gracious when they have to let you into your hotel room at 2am because you thought you lost your I.D., credit card and room key but - Surprise! - you didn’t. It was in the lining of your bag the whole time. Oops. (I swear I was sober.)

But I just can’t. The full extent of the conference has not hit me yet. When I think of it, BlogHer ’10 is all one big pink glow and, honestly, I think I’d like to keep it that way.

So to you and you and you and definitely you (you know who you are), thank you for the conversations, the hugs, the meals out, the jokes, and for holding my hand and convincing me that everything was going to be okay even when you had no idea that’s what you were doing. I’d link to every one of you but I’m afraid the sheer magnitude of blogs I’d have to call out to would prohibit me from finishing and publishing this post. And I don’t want that to happen. It would be a disservice.

So just, thank you. I think I’ll stick around a bit longer.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Winning is its greatest reward. Winning, not having to wear spandex AND eating a jar of Nutella the next day is better.

Whoops. I might have missed posting about a little something last week.

That bet I had with Matthew? Ahem... [totally doing my best impression of Elle Woods when she finds out she got the last intern spot] I WON!

Oh yes I did.

I lost 11.5 pounds in six weeks! Boo-freaking-yah.

I went from 139.5 to 128. I'm still in shock that I was able to pull this off, especially - and don't tell Matthew this - since I really effed off during the first week. It was apple cider doughnut season and I refused to go an entire year without partaking of that manna from the heavens that is a fresh from the fryer apple cider doughnut. I have this thing about doughnuts. It's a problem I have no desire to get help for. So during that first week I may have eaten four doughnuts...

Okay, five. Five doughnuts...

Six, I ate a half dozen doughnuts. Are you happy? I was, until I checked the scale and I went up at least half a pound. So actually, I lost 12 pounds.

I don't have any before pictures because I forgot to take them and I don't have any after pictures because every mirror in my house is in a really dark room and I can't take a decent photo. I'm going to try to remember to take my measurements later and compare them to some measurements I took late this summer but my jeans are saying I lost some serious weight. From now until I save some money to buy some new pants, you can call me "Saggy ass" because my booty has gotten so much smaller it swims in pretty much every pair of jeans I own.

But the first thing to go, I'm sorry to say, was my chest. A moment of silence for my breasts please.

.....

That's a cruel twist and especially not fair to those of us who didn't have much in the chesticle region to begin with. I'm really wishing I hadn't thrown away all those Miracle Bras I owned.

However, I fit into my goal jeans now! And most of the time I need to wear a belt with them!

You can't see me but I'm doing my happy dance right now. It looks like a slightly less coordinated seizure.

Our weight loss challenge came right down to the wire and in the end I only beat him by something like .06%. I have to admit there was a small part of me that felt bad when I told Matthew how much I had lost. I know he worked his ass off (pun intended) and I also know I gave him the impression that I was not doing so well. That was not completely intentional. I knew it would mess with his head a little bit but I was totally on the level with him from the beginning. For the longest time I seemed to be stuck at 8 pounds lost. I couldn't lose any more than that damn 8 pounds and normally I'd be fine with that but for the sake of this challenge I had to get over that hurdle. And I did but don't ask me how. It's a mystery.

Then I broke my toe, the same one I broke back in June. But this time I didn't accidentally kick a foot stool. No, this time I accidentally kicked the five pound weights I had left on the living room floor. How's that for irony?



No pictures of me in all my skinny glory but I've got a big picture of my discolored broken toe for you. You're welcome.
But ain't it purdy?

Then I got the head cold from hell. The only bright spot in that last week of the challenge is that, thanks to the cold, I had no desire to eat, which came in handy because I couldn't work out for three days due to the sickness and the toe. But those last few days before our final weigh-in I stuffed my angry toe into my sneakers and I did intervals on my elliptical trainer until I was practically in tears and hacking so badly I needed to sit down or risk passing out. I was NOT going to let him beat me.

Stubborn? Who, me? Why yes, yes I am.

If you haven't done so yet, please go gaze upon Matthew in all of his spandexed glory - that was our bet, after all, loser wears spandex and posts pictures for the world to see - and while you're there tell him what a great job he did because I never could have done this without his motivation.

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For more on my love of doughnuts, I have a review up at New England Mamas about a Sweet pastry shop and dessert lounge. If you're a local and love a good pastry, you might want to check it out.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Because no one else understands my obsession with Ralph Macchio like she does

My heart hurts today.

I'm going to just cut to the chase - My friend Anissa Mayhew had a stroke yesterday and today she is in the ICU. I am completely devastated by this news. Anissa is a new friend, I only just met her in July at the BlogHer conference, but I feel like I've known her forever. If you know her you probably feel the same, she just has that way about her - instantly likable. As news spread of her condition over Twitter and the internet the outpouring of love from the people who know her, both online and off, was amazing and inspiring. She is truly a loved person.

Anissa is a mother of three, a wife, a fellow blogger, founder of the fabulous community blog Aiming Low, Ralph Macchio's other biggest fan, and the most wonderful person you'd ever hope to meet. Like most, I'm worried for both Anissa and her family. If you feel like I do there are things you can do to help.

First, pray for her. Or if you have a hard time with praying, keep her in your thoughts. I believe in the power of positive thinking in times like these so send her some good juju.

Second, go here. A PO Box has been set up to receive any items you may went to send to the Mayhew family. Gift cards are important right now to help defer the cost of keeping her children occupied and fed. Anyone who has had a loved one in the hospital for an extended stay knows how difficult and disruptive it is for the family, especially small children, and home cooked meals are hard to come by when you're eating on the run. Please consider giving something, even if it's just something that will make her laugh. She loves to laugh.

Anissa is the most magnificent person with a smile that could light up whole cities. Last night was a dark one. I missed seeing her in my Twitter stream desperately.

I love you, Anissa! If anyone is going to make it through this, you are. Ralph Macchio is counting on you!!


Thursday, August 27, 2009

Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains

I am a baseball fan. More to the point, I am a Red Sox fan, but I'll root for any local team even a Little League team. And when one roots for the local team sometimes a wager or two needs to be made in their honor. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, blah blah blah.

Anyway, I lost a bet. To this guy. A Padres fan. You have no idea how much that pains me, but I always make good on my bets.

So I'm over at his blog today. I always pay my dues, but I don't give up that easily. Heh.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

I'm too sleep deprived to come up with an interesting title. So: Post-BlogHer '09 recap post. Yawn.

Raise your hand if you've never said or done something you really wished you could take back.


The three of you who raised your hand, the ones who are either sainted, mute, or have lived alone in a cave all your life, you can put them down. Your prize is waiting for you over there - a lifetime supply of Turtle Wax and a map of the road to Righteousness. Sorry it's 2009, the GPS to the road to Righteousness.

As for the rest of us, we're human. We say dumb things. We DO dumb things. We have a finite amount of time on this earth to try and get things right but in the meantime we're stumbling around in the darkness, feeling our way along the path to being perfect, until St. Peter comes calling and we have to defend our lives in front of God and a choir of sparklingly clean angels with golden ringlets, floating on downy clouds. Or some shit like that. Feel free to insert your own dogma here.

This does not excuse us, however. It doesn't give us a free pass. When one has foot in mouth disease (as I do, and I was called on it this weekend and didn't do nearly enough bowing and scrapping) you learn to live with the nasty aftertaste. When we do something we dearly regret later, as we all have, we need to live with that memory forever.

Where it gets sticky is in the year 2009 we have this thing called The Internet. And The Internet never forgets.

As internet users and internet writers, we have the responsibility to use our words correctly, and in the presence of others we need to check ourselves because chances are there are people watching who aren't afraid to use their words. Words are mighty. Words are powerful. Things written or said - I'm not talking about specifics here - in jest or seriously can be judged and analyzed, blown out of proportion or taken in correct context. And those words that are said out loud or written will come back and hit you where [choose your deity] split you.

So whether your words are being directed toward a corporation or an individual person, keep in mind that you're not living in a bubble.

I don't judge. Like I said, I have occasional diarrhea-of-the-mouth attacks as well as someone-stop-me-from-being-a-dumbass syndrome. You did what you did because for the .02 seconds it took you to decide it seemed like a really good idea. We've all been there. You'll know better next time.

I guess what I'm trying to say, again without getting into specifics because chances are you know the specifics, is that from now on maybe we can start to remember that what we say, write or do is being watched by the world. And the world? It has access to The Internet and it's not afraid to use it.

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This was not the post-BlogHer recap that I set out to write.

What I set out to write was all about the positive aspects of this conference from my perspective because for me there were more positive than negative. But after three different revisions and too many rewrites to count, this is what you got. So if you came here for links to the more unpleasant happenings, sorry. You're not getting them here.

But I'll be happy to tell you about what was good about BlogHer '09, as seen by little ol' moi:

I decided to stay away from the panels this year, not because I wasn't interested in what was being said there - to the contrary, I was very interested and wish there was more time - but because I was set on attending the Room of Their Own breakout sessions. And for the most part I was very happy with my choice. Most were very informative and the ones that weren't, well, at least they were entertaining.

The best party had nothing to do with swag, it had to do with friends getting together and dancing like damned fools. To the ladies at MamaPop: Best. Party. EVER. To quote your honorary gay boyfriend, it was legen - wait for it - dary.

My bags made it to Chicago and back and didn't get lost once. Wheeee!

I had a gracious roommate who tolerated my late night tiptoeing (so as not to wake her delectable baby) and genuinely enjoyed her company, if for no other reason than because she's damn funny and she made me laugh and I'd like to think I did the same for her.

I had great non-conference-sponsored meal conversations with wonderful women that both set the tone for my positive weekend experience and nicely wrapped it up (and please let me know if I didn't link to you because I really want to! I just can't deal with sorting through these business cards yet.), and shared cheesy bacon fries and mutual admiration with someone I expected to like, just not as much as I did. I'm now planning on abducting her and moving her into my home.

I approached a writer, who has long been a favorite of mine, after his moving keynote reading and at the risk of being a fan girl told him how much his writing touched me. I may have freaked him out but he didn't run away immediately, so there's that.

I spent quality time with someone who is becoming a cherished friend and met another who, though tiny enough to fit in my pocket, is a powerful force to be reckoned with and as genuine a person as you'll ever meet. Just don't try to get past her at a party.

I met my twin (okay, not in an outwardly physical way but trust me, twins.) and though we didn't spend enough time talking, we finally were able to speak face to face. And discussed the skunking of her dog. If I could I would take the train to her, rescue her from the stench and bring her to live at my house. I'm thinking of starting a commune.

I introduced myself to others I knew only by blog or Twitter name or avatar; in elevators, in bathrooms, in the hallways, just because. Shook hands and shared hugs, just because. Danced wildly, even though it's not my nature, and laughed hysterically, which is in my nature, just because. Was even coerced into going out to a nightclub at 2am (fer chrissake) against my better judgement and I'm glad I did, just because. But most important I made personal connections, just because I wanted to.

I talked with old friends and made new ones. Yes, the people in the computer are my friends. The gin was only a partial help because a majority of this was done during daylight hours.

All in all, swag or no swag, an experience I'm happy to remember over and over.

And now I need a nap.

Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Because we can. Because we should.

Today I was beaten repeatedly with a rattle. I have a fat lip, a bump on my nose and a headache.

Today I was used as a jungle gym and now my back hurts too.

Today I listened to whining, screaming, crying, demanding, and multiple tantrums.

Today I prepared meals for a preschooler who begged for said meals and then didn't eat them.

Today I fed a growing, hungry baby and was immediately puked on. Twice.

Today I changed more diapers than I'd like to remember and the day is not over yet.

Today I dealt with an overtired baby who refused to nap.

Today parenting was pretty exhausting.

But despite it all, today I doled out extra treats and allowed extra TV shows and I gave extra kisses and hugged extra hard. Because I can. I just wish it didn't take a tragedy to make me remember, make us all remember, how good we sometimes have it.

Be at peace, Maddie. And may your mommy and daddy find peace one day too.

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After you've hugged your kids maybe you could donate what you can to the March of Dimes in the memory of a very special little girl, Madeline Alice Spohr. And then take a look at this tribute to Maddie. And then go back to hugging your kids.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

She puts the hitch in my giddy up

I can be a bit of a pessimist, believing that given the chance things will almost always go wrong. But sometimes something good, really good, happens to someone who deserves it and my faith in human kind is restored... For at least five minutes.

One of those sometimes happened to a friend of mine and Boy Howdy! She deserves it. Tanis, the lovely, talented, beboob-ringed (which is way better than being bedazzled) Tanis, has adopted a beautiful little boy and I honestly can't think of a person, a whole family actually, who deserves this happiness more.

A bunch of women who are wonderful in their own right are throwing Tanis a virtual baby shower and part of it is all about getting in touch with your inner redneck. This is something I have no problem with since I grew up in redneck country myself and had my first taste of Schlitz when I was still a wee baby. Or maybe it was Pabst Blue Ribbon? I forget, maybe they should have watered it down first.

Here's my contribution:

You know you're a Redneck Mommy when:

You not only own a blaze orange vest but you also have one for your baby (and for your whole family, dogs included too. But they wouldn't pose with us. Ingrates.)

Congratulations, Tanis! All the love in the world from our redneck family to yours.

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Show off your inner redneck and give Tanis some love too. Go here. No, really. Go HERE. Don't make me get my gun.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

My faith in humanity has been restored. No, really.

This year I really wanted an Advent calendar so Chicky and I could count down the days to Christmas together. And so the two of us would have an excuse to get a piece of chocolate every day for 25 days all in the name of the holidays.

I searched online for the perfect Advent calendar; a calendar I would want to keep for awhile and something the kids would be excited about taking out year after year. And I searched. And searched. Some of the ones I found were really... Jesus-y. They looked like my Catholic upbringing had thrown up all over them. You could practically see the guilt. Seriously. They stressed me out.

Others were too childish. I know the calendar is supposed to be for the kids but it has to live in my house, so Disney Advent Calendars were not even considered. That goes double for anything with a princess on it. I don't know about you, but a Princess Advent calendar just doesn't scream Christmas to me. It screams "You're the mother to two girls! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!", but it doesn't scream Christmas.

So I did what most people do these days when faced with a challenge - I bitched about it on Twitter.

The response I got was overwhelming. Within minutes I had all sorts of suggestions from the people who live in my computer. I love Twitter. Twitter completes me. So do the people who live in my computer. And the voices in my head. They're pretty cool too.

Then a certain lovely lady suggested I make one. Um, make? I'm sorry, that does not compute. Like with my hands? And glue? Did she not see what happens when I attempt to get crafty? I couldn't craft my way out of a paper bag with a hot glue gun and pinking shears with Martha Stewart personally giving me directions.

So she offered to make one for me. It just came today:


Pretty sure I Squee'd when I opened it. And I don't Squee. Unless I'm drinking, but since it arrived this morning I was still relatively sober when I opened it.

I gave her dog training advice, she gave me a handmade advent calendar. I think I got the better end of the deal.

Thanks, PGoodness! You've convinced me that not all people suck. Most do, but not all and certainly not you.

(And Happy Birthday, girlfriend. You don't look a day over 25.)

Monday, October 27, 2008

Saving money the old fashioned way - Sure it's hot as hell but I don't need to go to the spa now

So Bossy - or as I like to call her, Bossy - is having this thing called a Poverty Party and I knew immediately I had to get involved because a poverty party has got to be better than the Pity Party I usually throw for myself.

Here's the gist: Things suck right now, economically speaking. People are now, more than ever, trying to save some scratch in new and inventive ways. I'm all for that, because who knew two kids could be so expensive? Not only that, but Mr. C and I decided this summer would be the perfect time to buy a new house. And if I hadn't thrown my crystal ball across the room when it told me I had a week's worth of laundry in my future I might have realized that now was not a good time to get into even more house debt. Maybe.

Okay, probably not because this house? She was made for us. I truly believe that. She spoke to me and told me so.

No, my meds don't need to be adjusted. Why do you ask?

Anyway, with money tight my husband and I are thinking of ways to stretch our dollar. You know, paper money being so flexible and all. We've already proven our commitment to saving some cash in some ways and here's another way:


This is the wood stove in our Great Room. I call it our Great Room because, um, it's great (duh), but also because when the stove is lit and there's a roaring fire in it you can take a Great big sauna in that room and sweat out all that Great box 'o wine.

Throw one of those steamer pots on top and it will also clean out your pores. See how I just did that? I just saved myself hundreds of dollars in facials.

It doesn't matter that oil prices are starting to fall a bit, we've decided to try to heat our house a good portion of the fall and winter with this stove. Of course, the first weeks don't count because of the money we had to sink into that ugly ass child safety gate around the stove. But that was an important purchase because -

Hot Stove + Sensitive Baby Hands = Nasty Flesh Prints + Smell of Burnt Flesh + Emergency Room Co-Pays.

My math is not so good but I'm pretty sure the sum total is money out of my pocket for things like skin grafts, therapist bills and aromatherapy candles.

And the television is just to the right of the stove, so the way I figure we'll also save money on electricity because we won't be able to sit in this room to watch TV because it gets hot as Hades in our Great Room. Great.

This is just one of the ways we're making our money go farther. Tune in next time to see how I use plain old black beans to not only feed my family for days but also as an inexpensive preschooler toy!

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Now I will reward myself with some of that chocolate

First, I can't think of anything to write about. Then, I'm all over the internet yappin' away.

Today I'm blogging at not one, but two blogs other than my own. First up, I'm over at the New England Mamas talking about my own secret place to get the best homemade chocolates (Mmm, homemade chocolate. Mmm...) and then I'm over at my friend Sarah's blog pinch hitting for her while she's off having an actual vacation. Damn her.

And for all my New England readers, don't forget we're having a contest at the NE Mamas. Share with us your secret spaces or hidden gems and you just might win something. Uh huh. That's right. Spill it.

After I rest up from all this writing business, I'll start working on your questions. You're waiting with baited breath, I can tell.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

I may be a heathen but I know when someone needs my prayers

Whether or not you are familiar with Midwestern Mommy, please go to her blog and leave her a comment or send her an email with your thoughts and prayers. She just found out she has cancer - either colon or lymphoma, she wasn't sure at time of posting - and though she's trying to put on a brave face, joking about the inevitable weight loss, she desperately needs your best wishes.

And please, even if you're not a church goer, say a prayer for her family as well, especially her beloved husband and her adorable little boy (and hell, for her dog too!). They need all the support they can get during this difficult time.

Monday, January 21, 2008

How do you title a post like this?

You guys. Your recommendations for meals have been really great. I'm really looking forward to trying them and like promised I'll post the results. We made those chicken bacon roulades last night so I'll write about that soon and include the pictures of the debacle yummy outcome.

If you haven't added your favorite family meal - and I really don't know what you're waiting for, ahem, it's just my families health at stake here - go here and leave it for me.

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Today is MotherGooseMouse's virtual baby shower! Julie is about to add a little man baby to her family that already includes two girls so if you have any advice on raising boys for her, today is the day to offer it. I wish I had some words of wisdom but I have very little experience with boys... Except to date them.

So, Julie, the only thing I can say is raise a boy who respects women. I've met some real winners in my life and very few of them had any idea how to treat a woman with kindness and respect. With Tacy and CJ around I don't think that little boy of yours will have a choice but it's worth mentioning!

Oh, and teach him about romance. So few men know how to romance a woman. I know this is making you all squeamish since we're talking about your baby boy but someday that baby will be a man. Hard to believe, I know. Teach him the fundamental ways to a woman's heart: Teach him how to cook, how to play an instrument, how to clean up after himself, how to have a conversation and how to fight - the right way. Basically, raise the perfect man. You can do that, right? Sure, no problem.



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And last but not least, I have a new review up at my other blog. I was asked to review the really cool Comfy Easy PC Learning System for toddlers and pre-schoolers. We're obsessed with our computers here in the Chicky household and our little Chicky is no exception. We looked long and hard at different toddler-friendly PCs since we were trying to find the right combination of fun, learning and ease of use. Did we find it in the Comfy Easy PC? Please click here to find out.

(Please? Pretty please?)


Monday, July 02, 2007

I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know if I'll be back again

My cat is still missing.

My Gram is having surgery this afternoon to remove the mass from her pelvis because she's in so much pain her doctors decided to do the surgery first instead of waiting, doing a few chemo treatments and seeing how that went.

And tomorrow I'm hoping on an airplane with Chicky and Mr. C to go visit his sister and her family in Minnesota.

But wait, there's more!

On Friday the whole lot of us are packing up the cars and driving at least five hours one way (not accounting for frequent stops) to visit Mr. C's grandmother in Wisconsin. And then driving back to Minnesota three days later followed by another plane ride back home.

Oy.

Pray for me. I know I've been asking for that a lot but this time I really mean it. I may not return from this trip.

I'm very much looking forward to all the visiting - I love my sister-in-law and her husband and kids and my grandmother-in-law - but the traveling might just send me over the edge. But I'll make it through. I always do. Because my brother-in-law? He makes beer.

Thank you, Jaysus!

While I'm gone I'm leaving you in the very capable hands of some fabulous women bloggers whom I deeply respect. Sarah, Major Bedhead, Binky and Fairly Odd Mother are fellow NE Mamas while Redneck Mommy, Mrs. Fortune and PunditMom are writers who I just couldn't resist seeing what they would come up with for my site. Please come on by and visit them because blog sitting can be lonely. If they do a good job, the next time I go away I'll ask them to watch my pets and water my tomato plants.

Have a fantastic Independence Day. If I survive eight days without access to the internet you'll hear from me next week.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Um... Uh... Er... Yeah

From the bottom of my cold, dead heart and all the way down to the ends of my freakishly long toes I want to thank you all for your thoughts and prayers for my Gram. I wish that I could say that they all kick started a miracle, I really do, but they didn't.

Instead of being sent to that hospital 45 minutes away from her home Gram was, instead, sent to Mass General in Boston. Not an easy drive for my aunt, the woman who is honorary caretaker and chauffeur for my grandmother.

(If my mom was still around it would have been her doing all the driving and speaking with the doctors. My aunt calls me often to curse my mother for leaving her. She says it with a smile, but curses nonetheless.)

Gram was admitted this evening and tomorrow they'll do a battery of tests to determine what's going on with the 8 inch "growth" on her pelvis. They believe it's ovarian cancer but the doctors won't commit to that diagnosis just yet.

Oh yeah, and the cat still hasn't shown up. Also, I've learned just how weird some of my neighbors are. Bonus.

So no miracle yet, but those thoughts and prayers could still help. Thank you for them all.

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On a happier note, Sarah thinks I rock. More specifically, she thinks I'm a rockin' girl blogger. I don't feel so rockin' right now but who am I to argue with my new real life friend?

Apparently, this is one of those pay-it-forward deal-ios. These things always make me feel like I'm playing favorites but in this case I really don't give a hairy rat's ass. Call it a popularity contest, blahdee blahdee blahdee, but I'm of the opinion that there are some rockin' chicks out there in blogland and they deserve to be recognized. Dammit.

1. Blog Antagonist - She doesn't know it but she's talked me off of more proverbial ledges than any other blogger. She's my idol, I want to be just like her if I ever decide to grow up. For now, I'll just consider her my big sister on the web. And the woman can write. If you don't visit her blog regularly you really should because when she's a big time published author us lucky readers will be able to say we knew her when.

2. Mama Tulip - Because we've experienced the same loss we're bound for all eternity. A bit much? I don't think so.

3. Redneck Mommy - T is the shit. She's a tough betch who will undoubtedly kick my ass if I don't keep her in alcohol at Blogher. And did I mention that I'm rooming with that tatooed and pierced freak (says the woman who calls her sister "dirtbag" as a sign of true and deep affection)? Pray for me. I may never return. I may not want to, we may just run away together.

4. Binky of 24/7 - My scrod, another woman who can write circles around me. And I love her for it. She can render me speechless with the smallest of paragraph and.... See? I don't know what else to say. She's just that good.

5. Jenny of Mama Drama and now the Bloggess - She's so fantastic that I may have to move to Texas just to stalk her. You think I'm joking. I'm not that funny. She's that funny.

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One more thing, if you have a dog who is afraid of thunderstorms or fireworks I have a new post up at Dog Gone Blog about it.

Now, if you don't mind, I think I may just go get drunk now.

Monday, May 14, 2007

Killing two bloggers with one stone

Like that would ever happen. I played first base so, consequently, I have no arm. I couldn't hit the broad side of a blogger if I tried.

Not that the bloggers I met this weekend had a broad side. I didn't notice any broad sides. I was too busy trying to talk myself out of saying really inappropriate things like, "Wow, you're hair is really shiny in person. Can I touch it? How about if I just sniff it?" to notice if they had a broad side.

As a matter of fact, I should just drop the whole broad side thing all together. This is exactly what I told myself I would not do when I decided to go off in search of real blogging women, outside of their computers - say stupid shit. I guess I just can't help myself.

To reiterate, there were no broad sides. But there was shiny hair. And, no, I didn't sniff it.

Anywhoo...

Part of my Mother's Day gift to me was to get the hell away from the computer and meet some of these amazing women in real life. So I headed off to the book store - yes, the book store - to meet Boston Mommy, Meredith O'Brien, one of the women writers that inspired me to start my own blog. Meredith recently wrote a book, did you know that? A funny one. A book about motherhood that takes off the gloves and laughs in the face of competi-mommies everywhere. And on Saturday she was at a local bookseller signing copies of A Suburban Mom: Notes from the Asylum - a book that I really must insist that you go and buy right now - and I had a chance to shake her hand and chat with her for a few minutes.

Do you know what? Not only was she gracious and funny but she was also stunningly good looking. Really. Gorgeous in that way that you just can't hate a woman for because she just seemed so genuinely nice. I hate to harp on another woman's physical attributes but it's hard when you're talking with someone and you keep thinking "She's got three kids and her skin looks great. How does she do that?"

It was a pleasure to meet Meredith, and I would have loved to have had more time with her, but her public was waiting and I had bogarted enough of her time already. So I went off to the coffee shop to wait for my next victim blog date with the lady of Cape Buffalo.

And I waited.

And I waited.

(hey, at least I had a good book to read)

And I waited.

When in she came, frantically apologizing, with her adorable daughter in tow. I couldn't fault her for being late because 1) I was sitting in a coffee shop, sipping iced coffee, and reading a book without a toddler trying to get my attention, 2) I'm the one that's usually late, and 3) She had just taken her 7 year old to get their nails done. Would you be ticked off at a mom who took her kid to get pedicures the day before Mother's Day? Didn't think so.

I knew I was going to like Kara as soon as she sat down. Those of you who know her will back me up when I say Kara is just one of those people you want to be friends with. I don't know what it was about her but she put me instantly at ease, which is no mean feat since I'm usually a bundle of nerves when I meet someone for the first time. But then she told me a story about losing one of her cats in my hometown years ago, when she lived no where near my hometown, so I figure we must be cosmically linked some way. Yeah, it's fate. I truly believed after hearing that story we were destined to be BFFs, have slumber parties, and braid each other's hair, but then, as she and her daughter were helping me pick out some books for Chicky, she took a call from a friend who, as luck would have it, is adopting a puppy very soon. And Kara told that friend that she didn't have to search for a dog trainer because she had (to paraphrase) the best dog trainer in the area to recommend to her.

That would be me for those of you playing at home.

I'm thinking of making her my agent. Or my pimp. She can sell me to whomever she wants as long as she keeps saying nice things like that.

I'm so easy.

So, that was just Saturday of my Mother's Day weekend. This doesn't even cover Sunday, a day that started with getting to sleep late, included a picnic and a gift, and finished with Coq au vin and a good bottle of Chianti (somewhere a French chef's head is exploding) prepared from scratch by my husband. The chicken, not the wine. If he could cook and make wine I'd keep him locked in my basement so no one could steal him. But if you had tasted his Coq au vin you might want to steal him anyway. It was to die for.

Come to think of it, I wonder what size shackles my husband would need?

Hope all you moms enjoyed your weekends!