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Obama’s campaign offices are thriving across the US – some have been going strong for a while and some (like the one closest to me) will swing open their doors this weekend – Sunday, July 27th at 5pm. Click here for more information on opening.
Cincinnati Madison Rd HQ (Cincinnati, OH)
1524 Madison Rd
Cincinnati, OH 45206
If you are in Cincinnati, stop by and warm the place up a bit. Better yet, get involved: no experience is necessary and you will be instrumental in electing our next POTUS. Join me, won’t you?
Not in Cincinnati? No worries – find an office near you on his website.
Here I sit at the last formal BlogHer event – the keynote address, a q&a with Heather Armstrong and Stephanie Klein (love these ladies, but I was secretly hoping for Michelle Obama). I have had an incredible time over these last three days. The comradery, the new friendships formed. The fun met and exceeded my expectations. To all the women; talented and beautiful souls I’ve had the honor of spending time with, thank you. More laughs then I can remember and real memories I’ll keep always.
As for the conference itself, perhaps my expectations were off. The only real expectations I had were one: meeting those wonderful women I’ve corresponded with a little or a lot over the last year and two: finding the desire to write more…blog better, be inspired, have stories to tell, something. On the contrary, if anything, I’ve been fearful of posting this entire weekend and I’ve been searching for the reason why.
Maybe it is as easy as I’m not a writer. I’m not an artist using WordPress as my clay. You’re not going to be casually cruising your local Barnes and Noble and see my big hair in the window on a book someday. I have neither the talent nor drive. Oh, don’t get me wrong, had I the words to do such a thing, nothing next to my role as a mother would bring me such a sense of accomplishment. But giving the world it’s next great masterpiece is not my purpose. I mean, I think we’d know by now if I was the reincarnation of Shakespeare, right?
Hell, I think we’d all be happy if I could manage to stop using run-on sentences and improper punctuation – baby steps I guess.
The amazing talent I stood next to this weekend humbled me. I’ve often stayed away from a subject matter because so many other woman were already blogging about it and saying it so much better than I ever could. I envy the writing abilities of so many of you out there. If I spent my time comparing myself to you, I’d never post again! Regrettably, I think I was doing a little bit of that this weekend.
A few years ago, after repeated failed attempts at regular scrapbooking, I took a stab at card making. It was really the only way to get the endless amount of scrapping shit supplies out of my house short of burning them in frustration and really how green can that be? I turned out to be a decent cardmaker. When I am crafting a card for someone I love, someone I want to impress and make happy, I thrive. Then my sister-in-law asked me to make invitations for an event she was hosting as well as a couple “freelance” jobs through friends and relatives of hers. It was a terrible three weeks. I hated every cut I made, every glue dot I used. Somebody else was dictating the theme, the colors, the feel. It was awful and the end result – the cards, my art – no longer represented me. In the end I lost the enjoyment of it all.
In some ways, this blog is my new card making. And this weekend, I could have easily lost sight of what makes it enjoyable to me. I’ll be damned if anyone (read: me) turns it into something I no longer recognized, something that no longer reflects me.
So this is my mission statement – a little late to the dance, but this is why I blog:
What you are reading right now is a means to connect with someone: you, my daughter someday, anyone who gets me or wants to. I am lucky to be surrounded in “real life’ by loving souls and I cherish them. But that doesn’t always meet my needs. Who out there is having their needs met entirely? This blog and more importantly the people it connects me to fills a void in my life.
I have opinions I want to express somewhat intelligently. As you all know, that is hit or miss. But know that if I’m taking the time to type even a paragraph about an issue, it is one that has impacted me in some way. I want you to know that and even if you don’t agree, I want you to add a little piece to the tapestry that is your impression of me. For better or worse, we are so defined by the things we prioritize, no?
I became part of this community to find people just like me, people foreign to me and sprinklings of everything in between. Thankfully, I have found enormous success in this area. And more importantly, through knowing them and their “missions”, I’ve been able for the first time to write my own.
So this BlogHer experience was a good one, if for no other reason than it reminded me of who I am and why I have taken the leap into this world I love so much.
Thanks to the gals who made the weekend for me (please forgive the very incomplete list that follows): Meghan at A Mom Two Boys and fearless leader of All Mediocre; Susan at WMAG; Shannan at MommyBits; K at Headless Mom; Casey from Moosh In Indy; Jennifer at Playgroups are No Place for Children; my roommate Nancy and all the others who made me laugh and think and feel like a unique piece of an amazing puzzle. In the days and weeks ahead, there are many new faces I will introduce you to and specific happenings (like winning a designer dress, see below, from Igigi that makes me look thinner – a miracle of modern sewing – thanks to MoPie at Big Fat Deal) so stay tuned!
no this isn’t me
no this isn’t me either
(it’s Headless Mom’s giveaway, pic by Shannan at MommyBits)
The latest offering from The New Yorker has the world abuzz. I’d love to hear your thoughts. I think those of you that know me can guess where I stand on this type of “art”:
I had respect for The New Yorker but is this their jumping off point for intelligent discourse about this election?
Does it help Obama to see front and center what some in this country might be thinking about him? I don’t know.
Here’s a thought to at least get a laugh out of this, comment below on how you would picture a similar cover if the McCains were featured. The one that makes me laugh the hardest might just win a prize!
I leave in less than a week for San Fransisco. I haven’t been there in years – since my military days (yes, I had military days, a story for another time). I am over-the-moon excited to head out for a weekend in the windy city city that never sleeps city by the bay – oh hell, what is San Fransisco’s nickname?
I have two lovely and local travel mates I can’t wait to get to know better: MommyBits and Susan at Working Moms Against Guilt. Smart and funny drunks women sure to show me a good time. (That is your number one mission ladies – show me a good time.)
I can’t wait to see A Mommy Story and Girlfriendology again. And meet, at long last, blog buddies like A Mom Two Boys, Headless Mom and of course The Bloggess. Not to mention the uber-savvy gals from Momcrats and my roomie, who might be too smart for this little (term loosely used) Ohio gal. I’m giddy just thinking of it.
Two months ago a trip to BlogHer 2008 was a pipe dream. I ran the numbers and like so many bloggers, a trip across country was not in the cards. A true believer, I entered every contest I could get my hands on and then something wonderful happened. I WON ONE! Courtesy of the amazing Amanda at The Mom Crowd (a most excellent site by the way and I’m not just saying that cause she’s my sugar daddy), I am able to go.
But wait, there’s more. A few weeks later, the lovely Stephanie at Adventures in Babywearing awarded a scholarship (that’s what I’m calling it as I was what you might call an educational underachiever and I need to boost my resume). HP was the generous benefactor of this $250 prize which just about covers my hotel stay. I use HP products everyday and they are the best. My HP Laserjet 4000 never fails me. I heart HP and Stephanie, and you should too.
Now, if I could just get Delta to cover my airfare, this trip would be amazingly free. Note to Delta: I don’t expect to get something for nothing, I know times are tough. In exchange, I’ll go through the lobby of the conference hotel (with or without clothing, your choice – but choose wisely) screaming DELTA ROCKS! at the top of my lungs until I’m escorted from the property. Have your people call my people. DELTA ROCKS!
But most of all to my husband who gave me the “Hell yes you should go!”. Thus the sucking up post in his honor from earlier this week. He is a good egg, plain and simple. He thinks DELTA ROCKS! too.
So next weekend I’m off and I couldn’t be more excited. Three days of no responsibilities to anyone but myself is a dream. Don’t get me wrong, I love motherhood and wifehood and workingforthemanhood very much. But it has been a long time since I have this many hours strung together where I’m accountable to no one but myself. And you couple that with the opportunity to meet and connect with like-minded, fun, spirited and strong women? I’m too lucky.
Thanks to everyone who is making the trip possible and thanks in advance to every soul I’m about to meet and be enriched by. Please say hello – you might just walk away with a little useless piece of Ohio to treasure forever. See you soon. DELTA ROCKS!
A couple weekends ago, I introduced P to the wonderful world of 80’s teen movies. She’s two, clearly ready for these life lessons. Her first assignment? Pretty in Pink of course. You know, the movie that made red hair cool in American high schools? I can assure you it wasn’t cool up to that point. Yes, Ralph DeLuca, I’m still bitter about the ‘pumpkin head’ comments.
I think I saw that movie for the first time the summer before my freshman year of high school. And anticipated that my experience would mirror Molly Ringwald’s once I lost twenty pounds and found a hair stylist to fix my unruly curls. Oh, and found a cool pink car.
Sadly, I’m still trying to lose the twenty pounds (and a few extra that I picked up along the last two decades – WTF? TWO DECADES?) and my stylist has improved, but the frizz is still the frizz and likely always will be. My car is neither cool nor pink and I’m selling plasma to fill the gas tank. Oh I kid, plasma selling is my Plan B, for now I’m just couponing. Yeah, cause that’s believable.
For those of you living under a rock, I’ll briefly recap the joy that is Pretty in Pink. Awesome soundtrack. Hands down one.of.the.best. Molly Ringwald’s character, Andie, comes from the wrong side of the tracks, she’s smart and talented and knows who she is (you know, just like you were your Senior Year of high school). Her best friend, loyal, funny and true, Duckie Dale, is played by the wonderful Jon Cryer (you can see the aged version in Two and a Half Men on CBS). And her richie love crush with questionable character, Blane, is played by Andrew McCarthy. Andrew McCarthy is now playing some ho-hum billionaire on NBC’s Lipstick Jungle – with a name like that, they don’t really give the show a chance, do they?
Andie likes Blane, Blane likes Andie but they come from different worlds – how can they make it work? Duckie worships Andie, but Andie only wants to be friends. The ups the downs, the prom dress shopping.
I don’t want to spoil it for the 0.004% of the population that haven’t seen this yet. But there is one thing we must discuss, so you’ve been spoiler-warned.
When this movie originally released, the ending had Andie and Duckie living happily ever after. I guess Andie realized she loved him all along? Who knows, only that select audience ever saw this version and they blackballed that puppy. The studio caved and re-shot the ending. Andie and Blaine live happily ever after, even with Andrew McCarthy’s f’d up hair.
Here is the zen moment of this post (wake up).
At 15, this is the ending we all dreamed about. My dream? Riding off into the sunset with M, the major appliance (name withheld to protect my dignity). The wrong choice, the wrong reason, the wrong hair cut M. And we pine for M. Vow we’ll never love another. Our teen angst turns to twenty-something bitterness and we contemplate the convent and lesbianism. Neither suit us, but we have years where we dress accordingly.
Then we wake up years later and we’re happily married to our Duckie. And we realize we don’t tell Duckie often enough how lucky we are.
I love you D.
And don’t give me grief about the photo – it was a perfect fit for the duck metaphor simile oxymoron parable metonymy synedoche homonym bit.