Archive for June, 2008

Fight and Flight

June 30, 2008 | Filed under: Va-cay-cay-cay, Whoopdie Doo

“The greatest discovery of my generation is that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitudes.” ~William James

Last weekend my brother, mother and I ventured out to Martha’s Vineyard for the weekend. This will probably not be the most pretentious thing I have ever said but dear Lord, I am so thankful for my mother’s second mortgage on an ISLAND. It’s why every time I step off the ferry I feel the need to kiss the ground then tell my mother how nicely her hair frames her face.

One evening G and I were walking around and he took this deep breath and said that he feels better here. Without the congestion and constant ambient noise and the yelling over the din of sirens every 14 seconds, it’s so damn peaceful. And once you get over the tiny army men that have been deployed to battle your sinuses, it really is lovely.

I returned home so full of love, flowers and happiness that by Monday I gave a shit about nothing. Not in an apathetic way but when shit hit the fan every single day last week, I didn’t get upset or irate or threaten to quit or even threaten violence. I was totally chill. Like being on Martha’s Vineyard turned the LOSE YOUR SHIT switch in my brain to the off position. I shrugged my shoulders when met with adversity and handled things the way normal people handle bullshit that they can’t help; with class and a modicum of dignity.

By Friday, when I normally would have been ready to toss my body in front of an oncoming vehicle, I laughed because the absurdity of the entire week was just so fucking funny. I was literally powerless towards everything that was thrown at me during the week. And because I couldn’t fight it – one cannot be responsible for the stupidity and general harsh behavior of others – I went to Denver for a faux vacation.

As I’m thinking of it now, I’m pretty sure that my relative calm was because my week was sandwiched by two weekends of tranquility. Denver is another one of those places that prides itself on its placidity and full of the nicest people who are less than aware that in two months their city is going to be swarmed by several thousand people. In fact I found their naivety towards the rampage of self-important people to be downright charming.

The added bonus to my past travels and the travel that is to come over the next 60 days is that in every city I go to someone greets me with open arms. During this trip to Denver Aimee and Julie were ever the most gracious hosts. With Aimee pointing me towards sushi restaurants in Cherry Creek so that I wouldn’t have to go through withdrawal from my eel sashimi addiction. And Julie being…well…Julie. If you’ve ever met the woman you know what I mean; you know those people who are just nice? That’s how Julie is all I can think is “Oh my God, is it possible to be that fucking nice?”

Last night while Aimee was putting her son to bed, Bryan, her husband, and I played the WII. I had eyed it earlier in the evening and had to keep myself from telling Aimee that while it was nice of her to invite everyone over for dinner, I would rather sit down here and play tennis against myself. Bryan and I golfed and then boxed. After I had thrown my entire body into protecting my Mii from any oncoming left hooks thus rendering me covered in a film of sweat, he mentioned that you don’t really need to put so much effort into the WII. In fact you would get the same results by gently maneuvering your body while sitting on a couch with a cold beer but flinging yourself around just gives it that added authenticity.

I return to Denver in two months at the very end of a 60 day slug fest with my senses. Bryan and Aimee have already offered me an opportunity to come over and box the shit out of the air to get out the aggression that will have eaten me alive and spit me back out by then. So while I like to give myself a generous pat on the back and tell myself that I’m handling so much shit so well and my, do I look gorgeous today; I am pretty well aware that this is just the calm before the storm. But unlike every other time when the clouds roll in (just to keep up with the analogy) this time I feel a little bit more prepared; like I have my umbrella nearby.

A Mile High*

June 29, 2008 | Filed under: Fotografias, Inebriated prose, Va-cay-cay-cay, Whoopdie Doo

*The thing about being literally a mile high is that one beer = two shots of tequila. So y’all should know that I wrote this while under the influence. I would apologize but you know me. 

“A man is not idle because he is absorbed in thought. There is a visible labor and there is an invisible labor” ~Victor Hugo

I never mentioned this but about two years ago I had to have a serious Come to Jesus discussion with myself about moving to Denver. I didn’t of course, since I now live in Upstate NY. But I still like to think about how my life would have been if I had decided to make the trek. I am in Denver for the weekend and I will be back in a few months. There are stories to come. A lot of ‘what if’s’ but I am happy with my decision. It’s like sliding doors though; I wonder what would have happened or could have happened if, back then (at the ripe old age of 22), I had decided to leap.

HRH Greeblemonkey took this photo a few nights ago. I think it pretty much sums me up in all of my smiley, edamame loving glory.

Also check out my eyebrows. For those wondering what I spend my ad revenue monies on it is on transforming my unibrow into two separate eyebrows that don’t look like mating caterpillars. And for that I thank you all.

Reach

June 26, 2008 | Filed under: BlogHer, Blogology

“Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogether, then inarticulate, and then drunk. When we had reached the last step of this glorious ladder, it was difficult to get down again without stumbling.” ~George Gordon Byron

Two years ago I went to San Jose and had a terrible, awful, no good, very bad time. I admit to going and letting my neuroses and social anxiety get the better of me. It isn’t as if I went under duress but instead I went to BlogHer that year after much internal back and forth and thought about the many things that normally plague a person before plunging into a giant pool of something out of their comfort zone. As normal as it might have been for me to allow that anxiety to become all consuming and somewhat crippling, I regret having spent so much of that weekend wanting to just get the hell out. Not to mention purposefully shying away from others. Sure, I can put up a front like the best of them but a front can easily be shot down when faced with several hundred women and that feeling that they all know each other and are far superior in intelligence/looks/congeniality than you will ever be. P.S. I bet no one liked me either.

That I brought a hangover home as a souvenir from Chicago last year and that I flew to Okla-fucking-homa to spend additional time with women I had met the week before is a huge testament not only to my overall growth in personality but also that I am 90% sure that diving into the cesspool of my patented brand of social anxiety was worth it. Even though everyone hated me, or so I like to say. I look at it this way: Once you get through the butterflies that feel like prehistoric monarchs swooping through your belly and not knowing which way is up and questioning the scientific probability of how surrounding yourself with hundreds of women will affect your menstrual cycle and smiling on the outside while feeling wholly inadequate on the outside; once you get through all of that without dying from all the injustices caused by being forced to socialize in public, well it’s easy to pick yourself up and do it over again. Like other things; you do it the first time and it feels oh so very bone breaking painful but each time thereafter gets a little bit better.

At the time of publishing I still do not have a plane ticket to SFHo (a very long and complicated story that I like to call My Job). I am expected there in a few weeks and I seem to think that the plane ticket will fall out of the Heavens and land at my feet. A ticket along with free drink tickets so I can get the party started off right. I’m somewhere between not being able to get through the rest of the week without gently massaging my earlobes and trying to wrap my pea sized brain around the fact that I get to spend several days with many of my most favorite women on the planet. Not including Oprah that is.

I’ve been meaning to go through my list of what-ifs and what to do’s for BlogHer because I have been asked no less than twice a week about the who, what, where, when and why of the entire event. For the record I am not a BlogHer expert but someone who has attended twice and has managed not to keel over after being forced to have a conversation. And that is where my expertise ends. Here’s the deal; I think it’s easier to get advice about an event from someone who has been before but remains apprehensive. It’s hard not to, since you really never know what to expect so make no expectations. It is human behavior to be that odd hybrid of nervous yet excited so feel free to let your trepidation flag fly. I am going to answer the questions I’ve gotten over the last few weeks and if you have any feel free to leave them in the comments or to email (nopasanadablog@gmail.com) or just email to be like, “Gee, HB, you are all kinds of awesome”.

Roommates:

If you have one read their blog. Talk. Email. Twitter. Use whatever mode of communication that you like to use to get to know that person. In 2006 I was roommate-less and last year I ended up rooming with someone I barely knew. I’m pretty sure she is still recovering from the awkwardness and we haven’t spoken since. I honestly couldn’t tell you the name of her blog. I am not an evil stuck up bitch whore, it’s just that it was a last minute arrangement. That said, if you do know who your roommate will be a casual hello, I am glad you are still on the planet, would be a nice way to get things going. My roommate and I email at least twice a week. She knows that I snore and that I’m a bit of a lush and that I am mildly insane. She has accepted that and is still willing to share a room. If she can accept me (hell, have you read this blog before?) then I’m sure your roommate will accept you.

Business Cards:

Order them now. Sorry that sounded a bit like a command. I meant to say that perhaps you should strongly think about heading over to Moo or your business card manufacturer of choice to design and order your cards. Mine have been designed and printed. They’re simple and I tell them how much I adore them each night before bed. I also have a fun business card holder (from Etsy) for my cards and another small zipper case for the cards I come back with. Here’s my motto: Be prepared. Also, get some damn cards.

Sessions:

A few weeks ago Angella asked me about what sessions I would be attending and since I was in the middle of 17 piles of paper that were about to cause a small fire in my office, I stopped what I was doing to check things out. I might be biased about the quality of speakers since about 30 of them are people that I admire more than words; but seriously, y’all, the quality of speakers is insane. They’re all experts even if they don’t think they are and figuring out what sessions to attend this year has proved to be more challenging than previous years. My suggestion is to take the time to check out the sessions and the speakers. Click over to their personal sites if you have to. Get to know them and see why they were chosen to lead their respective sessions. I have somewhat of an idea of what I’ll be attending and realize that nothing is set in stone. Last year I had great plans to attend some session and then I was plagued by a hangover so I couldn’t go. Also I ended up meeting new people who I ended up wandering around with during the day. My point? Be fluid. Have a general idea though and go from there.

Speaking of fluid and hangovers:

I’m saying this from personal experience and also as fair warning; it is hard not to get caught up in the parties and chatting with several hundred people. And once you get swept away by the conversation and the free wine it’s difficult not to surface as the sober one. It’s also hard not to want to stay up late to keep the party going. On the one hand this is a once a year thing and so you want to soak up everything and be everywhere and keep up with the drinking. On the other hand you have a liver to think about. So don’t. Speaking as a woman who spent several days with a raging hangover I would suggest learning/knowing your limits for the partying/drinking. Also keep in mind that everyone there has a blog and a Flickr account. You do not want to see photos of you doing this and having little to no recollection of it at all.

If I don’t have a laptop at BlogHer will I regret it?

Each year more and more people bring their laptops and most people that I know will have theirs because the Internet doesn’t stop just because you’re on vacation. I’ll still be expected to meet deadlines even though my bosses witnessed me get piss drunk the night before. Also I hate uploading 500 pictures later and not having access to CNN at my fingertips. If you have one and you want to carry it around then bring it. If you don’t bring yours but you suddenly have a desperate need for a laptop someone will have one that you can use. Because bloggers are nice like that and they all know how addictive the internet can be. I think this is how crack addicts get along as well.

And- I assume people change clothes for the evening?

This photo and this photo were taken on the same day. I will be packing for two weeks away. Which means that I will essentially be dragging my entire summer wardrobe with me as I go from one climate (SF where it will be cold. Never mind that it is July) to another (The Deep South). There’s also the caveat that I am friends with one of the most popular fashion bloggers and she will remind me that I don’t need 45 different bottoms I just need to bring enough to mix and match. But to piss her off I plan to bring my crocs. That said, you can change in the evening but no, not everyone does. In fact I doubt that I will this time only because there won’t be so much oppressive heat and humidity that I’m sweating through everything.

And my last little tidbit is a word on the whole “What if I don’t know anyone?/What if everyone hates me?/What if I’m sitting alone?”:

Look, I don’t like people. I cannot stand large groups of people. I have my comfort friends who I will run to when I need a shoulder to lean on. I also constantly believe that no one will like me and that I will know zero people there. I plan to hide behind a Ficus. Sorry, I plan to hide DRUNK behind a Ficus. There will be 1,000 women there. Once you get past the overwhelming amount of estrogen you will see that not everyone knows everyone else and there will be new people there and blah blah blah. I promise you that you WILL make friends. I also promise that if someone sees you alone then she will sit down with you and you two will be BFFE. And if not, you can come hang out with me while I’m sitting alone; just me, my glass of wine and a giant tree. Possibly hyperventilating. But at least I’ll be friendly while doing it.

That’s all I have for now but I’m sure that later I’ll remember something really important and will feel compelled to share. Like remember that one time when I touched everyone’s boobs? Figure out your own way of saying “Hello!” Usually a handshake or hug will suffice.

Brilliance becomes me

June 24, 2008 | Filed under: Comes And Goes, Humdrum

“Things turn out best for the people who make the best out of the way things turn out. ” ~Art Linkletter

There are these moments that we all have wherein we realize that a previously made decision that seemed quite brilliant at one time, turns out to be a little less than brilliant. In fact the decision seems downright idiotic and instead of feeling on top of the world with all of the newly discovered brilliance – hell, I probably should have been a MENSA member – it’s as if such hastily made decisions weren’t the best judgment ever. Anything can have this from choosing a mate to deciding at 7:30 PM to have enough diet coke to fill the Grand Canyon and then have a super sized, big gulp, iced coffee because caffeine would do a body good at damn near 9 PM.

Alas at 1:50 AM when wide awake and re-reading and responding to emails and writing and watching premium cable after midnight (soft core porn. The end), any other previous decision – made ever in my life - seems like it was a monumentally bad idea.

So now I know what 2 AM looks like while completely sober and let me tell you, it is far kinder and easier to embrace with the help of Grey Goose. I fear that my flight tomorrow will be a nightmare of epic proportions. And to allow my mind to venture off onto how the rest of the week, like the part when I fly two time zones away, will go…well…that explains the pressure slowly building behind my ears and across my brow line.

Shockingly enough I’m not nearly as tempted to slither onto the floor into the fetal position as I normally am when faced with several little things piling up. This could be because my house cleaner quit and the new one won’t start until later this week and so the thought of putting any bare skin onto the pet hair covered floor skeeves me out. Or it could be because a mini-vacation (past and one in the future) and sudden common sense have left me able to cope with things. Either way, I’m finding that there is very little that I can control except for me. Which is a novel concept, I’m sure. In fact that concept, that perhaps only I can control the way I react to other people and situations, is so god damn brilliant that MENSA is probably on their way right about now. Engraved invitation, streamers and all.

More for their benefit than mine

June 19, 2008 | Filed under: Just asking

“The essence of true friendship is to make allowance for another’s little lapses.” ~David Storey

Not only do I have the gift of ‘creative whining’ but I was also bestowed the gift of being really god damn annoying. I used to recoil and cry when my peers would announce just how fucking annoying I could be but I have since gone on to A) Not give a shit and B) Accept it as one of those quirky things about me that people will just have to deal with. I ask you now to picture an inquisitive yet precocious five year old trapped in a 24 year old’s body. That right there is what its like to be friends with me.

For the last several weeks I have been using my God given talent of annoying to ask Metalia if she’s had a baby yet*. And if she hasn’t had a baby yet, is it going to come out right now? How about now? How about maybe later today? I’m thinking that there are moments when she wishes she could throw something very hard and very heavy from her perch in Manhattan all the way Upstate. But instead of lobbing 15 lbs bricks at my head from 200 miles away, she’s sweet and kind and allows me to abuse technology by asking whether or not she is having a baby right this very second since she isn’t sitting at her computer. God forbid she go to Target or get a pedicure without sending me a missive with her daily itinerary.

Not only am I pain in the ass annoying but I seem to be a bit of a stalker. She is the first good friend of mine to have a baby. Like ever. So she bears with me and finds my awkward and TMI suggestions/questions to be endearing. Sometimes the precocious five year old can be cute! When you’re not contemplating cementing their jaw shut. Because of her, I have realized that I cannot ever have children because the waiting, my God, the waiting. I am impatient and after all that waiting I would like to be done. The other night we were discussing The Waiting and how painful it is and why the hell can’t this be over and mind you this was ME, the totally not pregnant one talking (Note: Babysitting is the best form of birth control ever), when I suddenly announced “This sucks, I’m going to find more wine” because the fucking waiting. I don’t know how you people do it over and over (and possibly over and over) again.

That said as a very childless person with 896 friends that are due to have an actual, live person come out of them this year (MIND BLOWING! by the way) I would like to know what a non-parent should do while waiting for friends or family to have that damn baby already. Though I say it much nicer than “have that damn baby already”, just so we’re all clear that I am not annoying, a stalker and rude. Thus far the only things Metalia and I have come up with are (Clearly we have a lot of free time. We’re just eating all the free time up in the world. Soon we’ll be laying around in cabanas in Cabo with all of our FREE TIME):

1) Become eminently quotable
2) Make up t-shirt slogans for your hypothetical café press shop
3) Create a virtual store where people can buy snippets of IM conversations because hoo boy! We are funny.
4) Drink (me)
5) Blog (both of us)
6) Discuss blogging about conversations about blogging (oooh meta)

*The one day that I did NOT ask if she had a baby yet, she has a baby and totally catches me off guard. I knew it would be a girl but I didn’t think about how gorgeous she would be. I’ve already purchased dresses with pockets, she will never have to experience life without them.