State of Grace

Catch-up. Road Trip. New blog.

The best way to get your blog current and caught up is to do it Mimi Smartypants style - formatting your updates, travelogues, and randomata in handy blocks of information. I believe Ms. Smartypants does not own a copyright to this methodology, but we must credit her, nonetheless. Ms. Smartypants is one of our Great Founding Mothers of Blogging, and we bow down.

Without further ado, some catch-up, a road trip, a report of a new blog:

Catch-Up

I wanted to have a WoolfCamp this weekend, coincidentally called WoolfCamp Catch-Up Camp, where we would convene at my house and work on stuff, whether craft/cooking/creating/conspiring.  But, too much is happening with our elders, most especially my dear mother-in-law (fan of the Clash), now at 92 and not doing well. In the last three months, her health has deteriorated alarmingly and rapidly. She's been in and out of the hospital. This lovely lady who always kept busy is weak and confined to her apartment home in Florida.  The Hubs has been on stand-by, ready to jump on a plane to be at her side.  We're a bit on the edge around here and that's not a good environment for WoolfCamp or any gathering at the house. So, WoolfCamp has been postponed until after the holidays.

More on catch-up (I so want to say "ketchup"), I think my other hip is going out. To which I say FUCK! And, CRAP!  I have not seen my fabulous orthopedic surgeon because, right now, I just can't face this. I plan to kick myself into making all the arrangements at the beginning of the year and get another hip arthroscopy going along with the prerequisite MRI and the procedure where they inject contrast into my left hip using a giant scary needle. Oh, that hurt.  I'll get on the horn and sort all that out, but first I need to put my fist through a couple of walls. Well, some cardboard or styrofoam walls, or maybe I'll just pop some bubble wrap. 

Given my mom-in-law's poor health (and certainly my own mother, who is losing her memory at age 76.  Way too young, in my book.) and this hip thing, I'm looking square in the face of my own mortality.

And, so, here it is, I have arrived: Mid Life Crisis.  

And, one way to deal with that? Road Trip.

Road Trip

Oh, it's not like I jumped into a new, red Corvette and put on Cougar clothes, big hair and false eyelashes to cure the Mid Life Crisis. I am not that exciting. Our kids, on the other hand, are very exciting and seeing them is a better remedy for the aging blues than tight knit tops with plunging necklines. 

We've been planning this road trip to Southern California for some time for two important events - our kiddo Jenn's first half-marathon in Santa Barbara and a dinner with kiddo Tracy and her fiance Brian in Los Angeles to celebrate their engagment.

First stop: Santa Barbara, where Jenn and her husband Mike make their cozy home with their pup Washy. Jenn set a goal for herself this year - train for and run a half marathon. And, she met that goal last Saturday in an easy-peasy 2:09.  I'm insisting that a marathon should be next. This running thing is in their blood - a couple of weeks ago, older sister Tiffany finished the New York City Marathon in 3:38 which qualified her to run the Boston Marathon next April. 

Our fleet-footed daughters are awesome, Internet.

We then headed further south for more awesome people - Tracy and her beloved Brian who has been busy.  The Silversun Pickups have been on the road for months since the release of Swoon. Last weekend was a window of opportunity to catch Brian at home and we feted them at their favorite restaurant, Palate in, of all places, Glendale. And, we're talking deep Glendale, square in the middle of this fair city's auto row on South Brand Boulevard. 

Brian's doing great, though I think he's a bit too skinny and I'd really like to feed him three giant meals a day for month. He may be one of those lucky humans who have the speedy metabolism of a squirrel or, more likely, he doesn't have time to eat. His is a nutty schedule - Brian's planned rest, the aforementioned window of opportunity, was interrupted with a jaunt up to San Francisco for a corporate party (Verizon's launch of the Droid. No, Brian didn't get one.) The following day he had two shows, one in the afternoon and another corporate event (KIA. He probably didn't get one of those, either). Apparently, the money's fabulously great for these corporate events and I'm all for the kids pulling in money.

The next day Tracy took us to another favorite eating spot, Little Dom's in Los Feliz.  We ate outside with our dogs, Malcolm, having accompanied us on this trip, and Stella, Tracy's crazy-happy mutt.  It was perfect Los Angeles weather for dining al fresco, the afternoon temp in the 70s, the Autumn sun low, no longer glaring and not at all too-bright (I always think of Joan Didion thrwarting the glare with her big sunglasses when I bask in the Los Angeles light). Tracy shared little gossipy bits about her friends, apprised us on the progress of her own band, Twilight Sleep, and provided more information on the wedding plans at Lake Maggiore in Italy next May. Hubs and I are crazy-happy like Stella about going to Italy for the wedding then spending a week in Venice afterwards. 

Then, off to the Silver Lake Dog Park, adjacent to the Silver Lake Reservoir. We watched the dogs run in packs then peel off from the group to trot merrily on their own. Tracy's lead guitar for her band, a very lovely young woman named Nicole, showed up to say hello and I thought:  How perfect - we're in this legendary metropolis, the throbbing molten core of the film, TV and music industries, in a dog park where there had to be other "industry" people, some of them major VIPs without their entourage and limos, who live nearby in the wooded nooks and crannies of Silver Lake, a hot-hot-hot neighborhood, watching their dogs fly and swoop around the park - and Tracy's lead guitarist shows up to say hello.

It all felt so fresh and made me glow inside. What Mid Life Crisis?

New Blog

More Women needed to go out and kick some product reviewing butt, so I created the More Women Bold and Badass Product Reviews blog.

The inaugural post is gwendomama's taming of the Cuisinart Elite 4-Cup Chopper. Or, did it tame her? Whatever, it's an excellent kick-off to the blog because gwendomama is bold and badass for including a Key Lime Bar recipe to demo the mad skillz of the Cuisinart's graham cracker chopping and Key Lime filling batter mixing.

So, Ms. Blogger over there:  Do you want to join us? Here are two very good reasons why you should -

(1) You want to do product reviews. Lots of us do. But, lots of us don't want to mess with the voice and sensibility of our personal blogs. Yet, you're itching to do an exposé/evaluation of a product or service you hated/loved. So, now, with the More Women review blog, you have a venue without messing with the pithy-emo-confessional tone of your blog.

(2) You don't want to participate in a mommy blogger product review group blog. You could care less about animal print diaper covers, Fisher Price toys and hipster-baby onesies with ironic messages. We hear you. We won't be doing those sort of reviews. No stuff for parents/kids unless we review a parent/kid product that has been repurposed for the rest of us such as, the best baby oil to remove eye make-up or the humidifier that's normally used to break up a kid's mucous but you use it as white noise to help you sleep (it's been done! it works!). 

Write me at morewomenreviews@gmail.com.  I'll set you up. You'll be bold and badass in no time. Wait! You already are!

Hey now, this was fun. I should use the Mimi Smartypants format more often.  I should blog more often.  Yeah, I should.

Love to you, Good Dollins.

The Best David Sedaris Autograph of All Time

The Best David Sedaris Autograph of All Time
Originally uploaded by GraceD

For Molly, who loved it.

"I don't know what you heard about me/But a b*tch can't get a dollar out of me."

The Hubs attired for his company's Halloween party. He swears the admins put him up to this.

Okay, fine. No dollar for this b*tch and the secretaries made you do it. Whatever. But, you're sure as sh*t gonna get your yard work done, Mister Pimp.

Announcing - Product Review Round-Up, aka my new blog where I get to talk like a Cowboy.

(screeeeeeech...dust flying...slams into the home blog)

Whew! I'm back.

Hello. How are you? Really? That's great! (or) That sucks!

Me? Hey, I'm fabulous because I finished up this project and launched it the other day:

Product Review Round-Up

CUTE banner, don't you think? No, I had nothing to do with making this banner but I did pick the best web designer around, the lovely Daisy Olsen of WP Mama, who geeked the site, resourced the graphic arts and allowed me pester her on a daily basis for several months. Daisy, you survived this bossy client, may you be blessed with cooler, calmer customers from here on out.

The story about the site is in my blog entry at the top of the home page of Product Review Round-Up, or "prrrup" as I like to say when I'm in a hurry and/or want to roll my r's. Yes, please do click on over there, I have ads galore on the site and with each hit my site makes a little "ka-chiing!" noise.

But, if you want all the news now, here's a summary:

• Product Review Round-Up is a collection of links to reviews hand-picked from thousands of product review blogs.

• I'm serious about the "hand-picked" part. I look for truly honest reviews, with the pros and cons, the nitty gritty, the praise and the pans.

• I also seek out bloggers who comply with the recent FTC guidelines for full disclosure on blogger reviews.

• We all know about those lucky bloggers who get all-expenses paid trips to Disney places and have companies ship free stuff, from major appliances to diaper covers, to their front door.  Yay for the lucky bloggers! But, I'll link to these feted and gifted bloggers only when the reviewer truly critiques the product. Example - Kristy scored a free Samsung dishwasher and published a thorough write-up.  She mentioned a feature she was not happy with  - "Leaves dishes a little damp unless you run it with the 'Extra Dry & Sanitize' option".  That's what I love! And, that's what I link to because, if you're like me, you want to know the downside about a product, especially something that costs the big bucks, like a dishwasher.

• On the flip side, there's a world of bloggers who do not go on free junkets to Florida or have their cabinets torn apart for a free dishwasher and yet, they review products anyway! Imagine that, doing it for free! I love these folks and many of the  Product Review Round-Up links are to bloggers who just want to share their opinions after purchasing a new printer, Moleskine notebook, eco-friendly kitty litter, or fancy chocolate.

• The links are popped into product/service categories - Beauty & Personal Care, Books, Eco-Cool Goods, Electronics & Gadgets, Entertainment, Food & Beverages, Health & Fitness, Home Care, School & Office Supplies, Kids & Babies, Travel and, my favorite, Unique Products (check out this listing - "Miss Serendipitist takes a snooze with Wrap-a-Nap". You heard it first here, the Wrap-a-Nap may be the next Snuggie.

• Once the world has pored through the current links, I'll be adding fresh links daily to each category beginning next week.

• I'll also be reviewing products and publishing my honest review on the blog. Actually, "we" will be reviewing products, which segues into the next bullet point:

• I have a partner in this.  Or, in the cowgirl parlance, a "pardner". Joining me in the search for reviews of excellence is our family's mighty marathoner, a mother of two wild and crazy guys (at the wild and crazy ages of 4 and 2), and all around badass woman and picky shopper, my husband's daughter Tiffany Hendryx. Tiff lives in Brooklyn which makes this blogging endeavor a bi-coastal enterprise, not unlike movie making or a Silicon Valley venture capital group with a Manhattan office.

• Tiff will cover blogger events on the East Coast and has already been put through the paces at her inaugural event, the EuroPro/Ninja product launch back in September. I deployed a small platoon of my cherished friends to fuss and watch over Tiffany -  the veteran bloggeristas and sister badass women Laurie, Devra, Liz, Kristen, Jenny, Yvonne, and, forever representing Canada at these things, JenB

• I was sad that my buff pal Carmen did not meet the equally buff Tiffany as they could have entertained the gathering with an epic arm wrestling showdown. Maybe next time.

Here's a very nice pic of buff Tiffany to the left of the aforementioned Jenny. Tiff's looking skeptical at whatever is on display/being demonstrated. I think it's good to have a buff skeptic as a business partner/pardner.

Jenny appears to join Tiff in the skepticism, though you never know as Jen could also be on the verge of cracking a joke.

 

No mention of the Ninja event is complete without this pic of Laurie and Devra en route to the event. I love my friends because they don't care what strangers on a train may think of them as they pose threateningly in full Ninja attack mode. 

 

 

 

Finally, because we're all about the 21st century and Social Media, we have a Twitter account, @ChiefWrangler. 

Now, if you published a product review on your blog and want to send it to my attention, Tweet me or email me at -

uncommoncowgirl@gmail.com

"Uncommon cowgirl" indeed. We Filipinas are tough babes, but we are not known for rustling the water buffalo around the rice fields.

There you go, good readers! I hope you take a look at the "prrrrup"!

And now, Git Along Little Doggies, Yippee-yi-yo-kai-yay, and Happy Trails to you/'til we meet again, my dollins.

The State of the State of Grace

 

This bracelet, an odd but strangely sweet gift from Molly, says it all about the week I had. Malcolm's ears, normally folded over in beguiling little flaps, punctuates the bracelet's message -  Yoda ears, straight up like two exclamation points

Oy, the week I had! Sick, oh, was I sick. Oy, the sickness I had! Yes, I am channeling a Jewish grandmother to help me write this post.

Your beloved Bubbeh aside, oops I did it again, I caught some crazy bug directly after a BlogHer conference. The title of the last post is right on point - I really should get out a heck of a lot more because my wimpy immune system needs steady and frequent exposure to the world's germs. This particular germ hit me bad - Fever, hacking cough, malaise, a feeling like my body was slammed around in a mosh pit at a Black Flags show. All symptoms met the criteria for Swine Flu. Did I have it checked out? No, because I did not want to get out of bed.

Am I done, yet? About the bad week? Not entirely:

Any time I was awake, I messed with this blog. A big mistake for someone like me who, even on a healthy day, can pull off some pretty ugly errors in geeking. I needed to do something while I had the Swine Flu/cold/whatever, so I occupied myself by joining another ad network, configuring the ads and, with the ambition only Nyquil can provide, I put up a new banner. Attempting those tasks put me - and the blog -  in a near-coma. Everything looks fine and dandy now, but if you just happened to check out this site between 1:00 to 5:00 am Pacific Standard Time on certain late nights/early mornings this past week, you would have seen everything in dire disarray. The size of one banner I uploaded occupied the entire screen of my MacBook monitor, sending the main body of the blog down to the basement of the Internet. Another banner installation resulted in the margins squishing up against the sides of the screen and, I swear to you, I honestly believe I heard The State of Grace let out a long, high pitched scream, not unlike the haunting cry of the dying lobster, a-boil in the pot.

Then, the ads. The ads! Oy, the ads! I was accepted by another network, one that I would not feel badly and guilty about if I didn't post frequently (yeah, like getting out more, I should post more, too) as I was nicely asked to do while a member of the excellent BlogHer Ad Network. Our friends at BlogHer holds your hand and makes you a cup of tea as they assist you, step by step, in adding ad content to your blog space. With my new network, Six Apart Media, you're on your own. Bad news for you, Nyquil addled Grace Davis! I tried to install a "skyscraper" ad, one located directly under the banner.  Observe above - that didn't fly and sure, it may have been the heady alcohol rush of my Nyquil dosing, but I heard that high pitched scream from the monitor again. After trying one configuration after another, I had success with the one modest vertical banner, over to the left. Make me feel better and click that, would you, please? Thank you.

But, for each moment I struggled with pixel sizes and ad scripts, for each lovely Autumn afternoon I spent feverishly sweating in damp sheets and for each pound I added to my waistline from inactivity (because I feel quite strongly that you should feed a fever AND a cold, whether Swine Flu or not), I was compensated many fold with this ultimate gift from a highly regarded and very kind sister blogger:

Thank you, Ree Drummond, for honoring me with a link on your magnificent-as-the-Oklahoma-plains blog, The Pioneer Woman.

I am humbled by Ree's lovely and generous acknowledgment.  She didn't have to do this, she has far more important things to do like herding cattle, homeschooling her beautiful children and cooking big vats of delicious ranch food for her family.  But, it seems that Ree wanted to assist me in spreading the word of self-forgiveness for survivors of child abuse and domestic violence.  From this gracious act, I have a lovely group of new readers from Ree's vast audience of thousands (an awesome two million readers a month).

So, welcome to my blog, new readers! Thank you for being here.

Dollin regular readers, thank you for always being here.

Swine Sickness, get outta here, already.

As for the state of The State of Grace, we continue, wobbly and with a Nyquil hangover, but still, very much here.

Whereupon I Begin to Get Out More

Oh, you food bloggers.
Originally uploaded by GraceD

I am writing this at the inaugural BlogHer Food Conference in San Francisco and let me tell you, these foodies are different from you and me. They give their blogs fusion-dessert names like "Vanilla Garlic"; they sprinkle exotic spices on garbanzo soup like sumac ("Camus" backwards is what I thought right away, ever the literature geek); they are willing to dip their hands into a vat of chocolate just because they can; they are intense, serious and earnest. This is a good crowd to observe and good people to know. After all, they know where to find the big vats of chocolate.

I wish I had taken a pic of this vat of chocolate, but I was upstairs in the lnternet Lounge recovering from the pasta coma that overtook me after the lunch provided by Bertolli. Apparently, the entrees were straight from their frozen food line and it was excellent. The gluten free folks starved (isn't there always a group of dietary restricted eaters who suffer at an event?) but I happily wolfed down the gluten-laden lasagne, the tricolor raviolli, the penne with squash and shrimp. Others were dismayed at the thought, as one would imagine a true foodie would be: Frozen food? Served at a conference? IS THERE NO GOD? But, not me. I cleaned my plate like a good girl.

While the gluten eaters were consuming, a handsome young man expertly worked the crowd with a wireless mike clipped on to his muscle shirt. I prodded my pal Charlene, she of Diary of a Crazed Mommy blog fame, and clued me in - handsome young man was one Rocco DiSpirito.

It's a good thing I didn't have the scoop on young Rocco otherwise I would not have had the nerve to take this Cougar-intensive picture:

So, the title of this post refers to me getting out more. Maybe I should go back inside. Or, maybe not.

No, it's good for me to be out and about. For one thing, meeting up with the people I love, most especially my blogger pals, means that I go out to eat. Kindly note the image of my friends Kalyn and Christine aiming their lenses at the dessert bowls (a crumble to the left, a poached pear to the right). It looks slightly rude, if not a little clinical, but the smart restaurant will honor and welcome this level of enthusiasm.  This is a classic food blogger move, and if you as a restauranteur say no to camera wielding diners, you're saying no to the press.  Bad move. Could shut you down. Serious here.

Wait. WAIT. Cocktail hour. End of conference. I'll be back.

"Pretty soon you're gonna get a little older..."

Crazy-busy around here. Some of that busy work involves the rehaul and reinvention of this here blog. 

First on the list - a new banner. Look! Up there!

Test - what's missing in the image? 

Yes! You're absolutely correct - there are no children. None! Only my husband looking chic and swank in a French-y striped knit shirt. Ooo-la-la!

On the left side margin, what was there before and not there now?

Yes, again! The ads are gone! No more Fisher Price toy ads or any other products for that matter!

With these two small but actually quite sweeping changes, I now say adieu to the mommyblogging genre and howdy-do to straight-up, regular life blogging.

Thank you, mommyblogging. You have served me well but I'm past all of that now. I did get "a little older".  I have graduated.  And, I am not looking back.

Celebrate with me! Let's sing Ch-ch-ch-Changes with the great David Bowie:

Senator Edward M. Kennedy (D-MA), 1932-2009

I am very reluctant but now, this proud American liberal, must say goodbye to Camelot.
It is gone. It is over. And, my grief is huge.

"General, we need MORE WOMEN!"

Um, it's been, what, a month since BlogHer? Two weeks since my last post? Yes? Yes. Oh, yes.

I have a good excuse this time. A really, really good excuse: I started another blog.  I did it it in a mere 10 minutes while sitting in a sun filled vacation rental at the famous Sea Ranch on the Northern California coast.  Our great fortune in staying at Sea Ranch came about by the horrendous misfortune and loving generosity of the fabulous VDog who broke her ankle in multiple places while she was hanging out at the same sun filled vacation rental.  Instead of finishing up her two week stay, VDog had a lot of Vicodan to consume as well as a pressing need to return to civilization for a hot date with an orthopedic surgeon.  She offered the second week of the Sea Ranch house to Hubs, Malcolm and me.  Like unfeeling opportunists, we took it.

Looking out to the deck of the Sea Ranch vacation rental where the new blog was created.

 

 

     

 

 

The birth of the new blog involves Twitter, the Ford Taurus and the fact that I'm probably older than you.  I swear, it's all connected and bullet pointed, as follows:

• I was invited to what turned out to be a jolly blogger event at the Ford Motor plant near Chicago prior to last month's BlogHer conference.  It it also turned out that in the group, I was an N=1 of my age group (Baby Boomer, born 1955) and parenting status (kid just graduated from high school, no need for family car, etc).  The new Ford Taurus, product of focus, appealed to me as a Boomer and a childless woman, but the invitees skewed heavily towards mom bloggers. There should have been more of me, like N=20!
• At the Ford event, I overheard someone say that this "was not your Grandma's Taurus." I spoke up, as I often compelled to do when I encounter ageism, and said quite loudly and firmly that technically I am a grandma (of my lovely stepkiddo's kids) and that's sort of the wrong approach, all righty? A polite acknowledgment and apologies were extended.  We moved on, I had a great time and will be writing up a review of the tour and test driving the new (hybrid!)Taurus.
• Two days later at BlogHer, I attended a panel - Identity/Passions: LifeBlogging Outside the Lines: When you’re not a Geek, a Political Wonk or a MommyBlogger - and asked the panelists if anyone was organizing any communities of non-mom bloggers. It was clear to me after the Ford event that someone needs to step forward and let companies know about this great untapped blogger market. There were no such initiatives to the panel's knowledge. 
• Time travel forward to the Sea Ranch stay. I'm in my pajamas, taking in the sun and marine air. I'm caffeinated. I'm happy. I check out what's happening online (vacation rental had lightning fast wifi) Then, I'm ballistic because I see the "this is not your grandma's Taurus" in a Tweet! Again, with the ageism!
• Gah! I had enough. So, right then and there in my pajamas on the floor, I created More Women in 10 minutes flat on the handy-dandy Ning network. 
  
• After announcing this on Twitter and providing the link, within 15 minutes 20 women signed up.
• At this moment in time, we have 85 members - single women, young women, married women, Boomer women - and all are not solely identified as mommy bloggers.
• Tomorrow, we just may conquer the world! Or, at least, perhaps Ford would like us to test their beautiful cars at a Boomer/Gen X, Y and Millennial event. 

The mission statement:

More Women will provide a collective voice and resource for women whose lifestyle choices, phase in life and blogs precludes a focus on parenting.

More Women will provide opportunities for members/bloggers who wish to be available to marketers, companies and organizations as guides and participants in product evaluation.

I truly want this to fly and fly high enough for all to see that it's not just mothers who are powerful consumers, all women are. So, we need members. We need PR and marketing contacts.  We could use some advertisers so we can fund our own events.  If you can help, then come forward and sign up - in your pajamas, even!

As to the title of this post, somehow that odd little sentence/demand seemed to keep coming up when I was setting up the blog and network.  I was entertaining this curious imagery of a soldier galloping on a horse over the battlefield then making his way to the officer in charge, a female general.  He needed reinforcements, he needed the best, and he saluted his commander and said to her:  "General, we need MORE WOMEN!"

Namaste, good dollins.

BlogHer 09: Aftermath

Here you go, the Tweet that tells a thousand stories. I posted this ten minutes after I read my post for the BlogHer Community Keynote two weeks ago.  In these past two weeks,  I've been in rehab, recovery and rejuvenating mode. With this post, I'm ready to reboot.

Recovering from attending BlogHer does not imply that the event was a negative experience. Certainly, the Keynote was not easy - I take on the anxiety of 10,000 Woody Allens when it comes to speaking in public. Add to that the emotional charge of my post and you're reduced to posting one word Tweets as demonstrated by the image above.  But, that's really it as far as letting events at BlogHer "get to me".  If anything did get me, it was the legendary BlogHerBola, flu-like symptoms that show up two to three days after BlogHer weekend. I had a week's worth of the BHBola which makes me feel like I did BlogHer fully and completely.

I actually think I did "do" BlogHer in a way that worked well for me. I planned it all pretty carefully, knowing I would be nervous before the Keynote and, following the read, relieved but slightly jittery in that "whew-it's-fucking-over" way. In contrast to how I've "done" BlogHer in the past - staying up late, drinking until late, running late, trying to see all my friends but only managing to squeeze in brief hellos and hugs - I took it easy and took care of myself:

• I worked out in the gym.
• I ate three meals and went easy on the glycemic intensive killer carbs.
• Attended only three parties including the legendary CheeseburgHer event.
• Did not run with an entourage, thus guaranteeing myself the flexibility to take off on my own.

I also allowed myself these luxuries:

• Did not share my room. Had it all to myself. Bliss.
• A long, hot bubble bath every night.
• Packed my favorite dresses to wear and enjoyed being kinda cute for my age.
• Wore comfy but kinda cute shoes.
• Made an appointment for a chair massage an hour and a half before the Keynote.
• Drank champagne where available.

And, expanded my perspective by:

• Making it a point to sit at tables where I didn't know anyone. Then introduced myself around the table and met the loveliest folks.
• Not attending mommyblogger sessions. Not one. Instead, I went outside my niche to attend sessions such as the Op-Ed writing workshop, marketing to women of color, who's reading you, and all the keynotes.
• Doing more listening than talking. The Keynote reading is enough talk.

I have much to share about more listening/less talking.  I knew this would happen to me after reading my fierce but tender message about forgiving yourself.  The core of this BlogHer 2009 experience was about listening to my fellow sister and brother survivors of child abuse and domestic violence. But, this is indeed fierce and tender stuff that warrants more attention and words than what I'm doing right now - hastily getting a blog post in before the day unfolds.

And, what a day it's going to be - starting with the soul-satisfying tasks of puttering around in the garden, hanging with Molly who has moved in with us (this delights me to no end), waiting for my husband to return from a business trip, then going to a Melissa Etheridge concert with my dear friend Jodee who I have known for (gulp) 42 years.

May all of you have a day as fabulous as this. 

May all of you find self-forgiveness. 

Then, when you have arrived at that place of peace, coming to wholeness and a full sense of self, may you let go of that selfhood and become one with all.

Love to you, Dollin Readers.

BlogHer 09 - My Community Keynote Reading

I was humbled and honored to have one of my blog posts chosen for the Community Keynote Reading at this year's BlogHer conference.  This is the video and introduction to the text from the edited version of my post, Forgiveness where it belongs -

Twenty-one years ago, I bought the book that saved my life - The Courage to Heal, by Ellen Bass and Laura Davis. This was the first self-help book to offer guidance for adult women on their journey from victim to survivor of child sexual abuse.  In this precious book is a chapter on forgiveness that blew me away when I was 33 and continues to inform me today at age 54.  What I'm about to read is based on that chapter.  I  published this entry two years ago prior to Mother's Day and Father's Day.  This stretch of time from May to June is a period of living hell for those of us who endured child sexual, physical and psychological abuse by our own parents.  I'm going to read an excerpt from this entry titled "Forgiveness Where It Belongs":

I've held my breath pounding on the keyboard sending my truth off in blog posts to everywhere and everyone out there.  It's scary as shit but I click on the "publish" link, "feeling the fear but doing it anyway."

But I'm not scared in tapping out this entry, for today I want to be a warrior in the service of my sisters and brothers, - adult child abuse survivors.   

I have a message for you, dear ones.  It's radical and some people who have not been through what we suffered as children may not appreciate it.  Indeed, they may be angry at me in sharing this truth with you, something that I believe with all of my heart, mind and soul:

My message:  You don't have to forgive your perpetrator.

And:  Forgiving your abuser is not necessary to achieve healing.

Forgiving those who criminally damaged and ravaged us is optional in moving on and living a fulfilling life. 

If there is forgiveness to be offered, extend it to yourself. 

Forgive yourself for being young, vulnerable, frightened, unable to take action, unable to move from where you were standing, sitting or lying down as you were being molested, beaten and berated.

Forgive yourself for doing drugs, drinking too much, being promiscuous, giving yourself away.

Forgive yourself for flunking classes, not finishing college, not pushing yourself at work, not wanting to be ambitious, giving up.

Forgive yourself for having to be perfect in school, overworking and overachieving at the expense of your health and well being.

Forgive yourself for alienating your body, starving it, overfeeding it, not honoring it by exercising, being careless with your body for exercising it excessively.

Forgive yourself for the bad choices in partners, the fights, the break-ups, the divorces, the difficulty in maintaining relationships.

Forgive yourself for your fears as a parent, or your fear in becoming a parent. 

Forgive yourself for yelling at your crying kids so much you want to smack their faces and shake them.  Then, forgive yourself for leaving them in the other room, crying and hollering, while you call the parental stress hotline.

Forgive yourself for having depression, post traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, dissociative disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder.  Forgive yourself for seeking help, taking medication, going to therapy, admitting yourself to the hospital.

Forgive yourself for feeling shame.

Forgive yourself for hating yourself.

Forgive yourself.  You're the one who deserves it. 

BlogHer 2009 - Bottom Line on BlogHer Criticism

Big BlogHer stage, opening day. It looks like LAX, don't you think? I'll betcha somebody bitched about that.

The post-BlogHer debriefing is in full swing on Twitter and the women's blogosphere.  Historically, I've participated in the strum und drang, putting up a blog post on the scandal that most offended my sensibilities. 

However, this year, I will try my utmost best to refrain from elaborating on the drama on this here blog.  That said, this will be difficult, as I could easily rehash any and all of the following issues and incidents:

• Defending the mommy bloggers right to exist. What, have we become Israel or something?
• Explaining to the non-moms that I was once a non-mom too, and I actually do understand their feelings that non-moms were seemingly invisible.
• Taking on the crazies who mosh-pitted their way to snatch up swag bags.  The use of "snatch" is a pun most intentional.
• Trying to find peace-in-the-hood on the contentious topic of who gets on a sponsor's hot party guest list and who does not. 
• Tweets, tee shirts that were blatantly sexist and racist but were not meant to be because one had to consider the source and context of who made the racist Tweet and who wore the sexist tee shirts.
• Exploring the notion that BlogHer was too e m o t i o n a l.
• Analyzing the concept that BlogHer was too SQUEEEEE!

Oh, how I could go on.

Instead, I offer to the world this kindly reminder:

BlogHer, like any other excellent, grand experiment, can't and never will win over everyone.

Thank you.

I will return. I have a video for you. Please stand by.

Ohhhhhh, BlogHer, you knock me out, too.

Mama said knock you out.
Originally uploaded by mizzjenny

From BlogHer Producer Jenny Lauck's flickr photostream comes a Jenny-on-Jeni smackdown at the BlogHer 09 Expo. BlogHer colleague Jen Monroe delivers a right punch with precision square on Jenny Lauck's ear. Boas and double tiara bonus action included. However, that magic wand's clearly not helping Jenny L. any.

Grown women. Mothers. Role models. Stellar writers Responsible citizens - having crazy-wonderful fun.

My BlogHer posts coming up. Oh, I have so much to share. In the meantime, if this doesn't lure you to BlogHer 2010 (in New York City!), you need some smiling lessons.

BlogHer 2009 - Where I promise to keep the dry heaving at a minimum.

And, just like that - I go from Club Med to Chicago for the 2009 BlogHer Conference.  To this I say:

BOOOOOYAAAAAH!

I'm thrilled to be back. I have a strong, heartfelt connection with BlogHer, an extraordinary organization of extraordinary blogging women. I was at the first conference in 2005, then at BlogHer 2006 where I suffered uncomfortably high visibility as a speaker but toiled happily as a volunteer.  In July 2007, my father died a week before BlogHer and last year I was in Indonesia with Molly. No BlogHer for either of these last two years.

When I signed up for BlogHer 2009, it was with a sense of relief that I wasn't speaking, volunteering, or doing anything other than attending the conference.  I would go as a happy, carefree participant, dropping into any session I pleased without having to be somewhere or do something else.

But, somehow I was drawn to submitting a post for the BlogHer Community Keynote.  The compulsion arose from that sub-person within, I'd like to think of her as a teenager, who needs to tell her story (or stroke her ego?)  I submitted my entry, something I wrote three years ago, and it was accepted as one of the Keynote blog posts that I would read aloud to an audience of 1000 people.

So much for that "happy, carefree" thing.  Public speaking, not unlike water sports (kindly refer to the previous entry), is not among my notable talents.  But, like my sailing pursuits, I do it anyway because to be brave you have to do brave acts, damnit. 

I'll be Twittering (http://twitter.com/GraceD) and blogging the conference.  I also plan not to drink too much or get so worked up about seeing the bloggers I love and adore that I end up in a bathroom stall, dry heaving. 

Viva BlogHer! Stay tuned, dollins.

The Hubs. He loves me. Even though I'm a boat wrecker.

Juicy-Cute Hubs
Originally uploaded by GraceD

So, we're talking love on this blog, now? Good, because I must write about my husband, The Hubs, as he's known 'round these parts, and his love for unworthy, funky, sometimes smelly, always sassy but grateful little me. Loooooves me perfectly, without reservation or doubt.

Proof: Last week he took me to Club Med.

Club Med! The fabled resort of sport and ooo-la-la! I've always wanted to go on a Club Med vacation, play all day then gorge on French cuisine at night. I was well aware of Club Med when it was a naughty place, where one was adorned with a string of beads (and little else) that you traded for booze and had petit affaires with the comely G.O.s. Those days are gone and the Club has become wholesome and family-oriented, not unlike Vegas but without the over-abundant buffets.

Hubs has business in, of all places on the planet, the Dominican Republic, where has an ongoing project with a group of excellent ophthalmologists. He's been conducting a savage commute from California to the Caribbean, leaving our home turf on a Wednesday, overnighting in Miami, then flying the next day to The DR, as he calls this gorgeous country with affection and familiarity

Say it with me, Internet - FREQUENT FLYER MILES GALORE.

Since this has taken a major toll on our Cialis Lifestyle, Hubs had me pack up my swimsuits and took me along on the commute for 10 days. The beginning and the end of the stay last week were work days, and in the middle, Hubs treated me to five days of Club Med on the other side of the island in a paradise called Punta Cana.

Ahhhh, Club Med Punta Cana with your exquisite white sands, palm fringe beach and 80 degree water. May we return to your tropical embrace often. However, I will not be sailing your Laser boats again. Jamais!

And this segues into more proof of the Hubs' unconditional love for me - The Laser Boat Incident.

Let it be known that though I have done many sea-oriented sports - SCUBA, windsurfing, serving as Ship's Cat on large sailboats, floating on inflatable mattresses with cocktail in hand - I'm not comfortable on large bodies of water. Over the years I have forced myself to learn how to do these varied water sports to overcome that fear, but I'm still freaked. After all, water can be deep and one can drown.

Hubs, on the other hand, is a water person and will jump on any seaworthy craft be it Huck Finn's raft or a sleek 100 ft ocean going sailboat. Thus, the nifty little Laser boats bouncing and bobbing on the sun dappled turquoise waters at the Club beckoned to us in a jaunty Gallic accent - YOU MUST SAIL US! TAKE ZEE LESSONS AND SAAAAAIL US!

How can one say non? It was certainly another opportunity for me to face-my-fears-and-do-it-anyway and for the Hubs to have a crack at another water toy. So, on the second full day of our stay, we checked into the water toy beach hut a half hour early both because of our excitement and to appease our neurotic American need to be first in line. The comely G.O. told us not to worry and to be back at 10:30 am. In our neurotic American way, we did not budge, we stayed put. The place was full of Europeans, mostly the French, and we knew from experience that our Euro-Frenchy-pals do not stand in neat lines awaiting their turn. Instead they rush through the fray and crowd up to counters in a crush of humanity.

The lessons began at 10:40 after we spent 10 minutes being neurotic Americans, our eyes darting back and forth and wringing our hands - where is the instructor? What's going on? The hell? Other guests sauntered up to the hut, moving slowly in the white sand in what I've come to recognize as the casual, European shuffle. Another comely G.O. (yes, they are all comely) jumped into our circle of 8 students and announced in French, Spanish and English that he was our sailing instructor and his name was J.C. (Later he revealed what his initials stood for: "Yez! I am Zee Jeezus Christ! In fact, I am 33!" to which I replied, much to Hubs' horror, "WHOA, it's gonna be a bad year for you, dude.")

J.C. was funny and charming but was ready to kick serious ass if we didn't obey his every move. I was instantly intimidated while Hubs felt an immediate bond with that attitude, which is quite similar to how he raised his kids. This did not bode well for me and I knew I would be doomed.

The Hubs is a water guy and he had a ball! He mastered the Laser in his first try, following J.C.'s instructions to the T - center the rudder stick! Pull in the line! Push the stick, do not pull! Push the stick way out when you're ready to tack, then take in the line and jump to the other side of the cockpit under the boom!

(All that sailor talk, eet eez sexay, eez eet not?)

As for me, poor scared-of-the-water land-lubber me, I failed. No, I didn't fail, I fucked up royale in front of an entire beach side bar full of the French who don't like Americans anyway and my fuck-up did not help the American cause. In fact, I think I have singlehandedly ruined US-Franco relations for years to come and I would like to personally apologize to Secretary of State Hillary Clinton for making her job that much harder.

Here's what I did:

Less than a minute after I set sail in my Laser boat, I panicked and did the wrong thing - I pulled the rudder stick instead of pushed.  This put the Laser into a tailspin and I lost control whereupon I smashed square into the dive boat.

Zee beeg, beeg Dive Boat.

Then, with the Laser boat turning crazily away from that beeg-assed dive boat I almost decapitated three snorkelers in the immediate area.

And, then I capsized the Laser boat.

But, the Hubs? He did not laugh or snarl or curse.  He did not walk away pretending not to know me.  He did not bury his head in the fluffy white sand.  Rather, he hastened along the beach, ready to jump into the water and guide my boat along.  One of the comely G.O.'s got to me first and allowed me to wade back to shore while he righted the boat and sailed it expertly and effortlessly back to the class.

In my book, this is a happy ending, most especially in that we were not charged for the little dent I created on the hull of the dive boat.  It's a happy story, because I know that despite my very public klutziness, the Hubs felt badly for me. In fact, he was quite adamant that I should have gone back out on the Laser and try it again, like getting back on the horse after a fall. That's faith! That's love! And, that's the end of solo sailing for me.

For the rest of the day, I hid under a beach towel and decided, for once and for all, that I am a land person. The Hubs can be in charge of all water-based sports and I will be responsible for hiking in the mountains.  I am very, very good at hiking in the mountains.