Kids In The House

My sister and kids are in town, and our house is overrun with four children under 6. Will post soon - when I catch my breath!

Homeless in San Francisco

So I've written about how beautiful I think San Francisco is, but I didn't mention how achingly sad it can be when one passes a homeless man or woman on every block.One Plus Two has a guest post today that pretty much describes it all. You should read it. Me? I'm still trying to understand what has happened to me that I didn't do anything to help any of these people. Instead, I walked right on by. Every time. Not the Lara I used to know...

Threats in Blogging: What Would You Do?

Jill at Writes Like She Talks has posted an interesting "assignment" today calling for creative resolutions of an issue involving threatening correspondence from a reader. Jill is a political blogger, so the analysis and questions include political terminology. If you don't usually read about politics, please don't let this deter you. There is a deeper question and future conversation in this post that applies to all bloggers: "What would be the consequences to all bloggers and discourse in the blogosphere if a threat of personal attacks did stop Recipient from blogging (the implication being that, just as giving in to people who kidnap and want a ransom of some type, once you give in to such demands, the demands will become more frequent and more bold)?".

Here is the link. Read it. And comment on her site if you have any creative resolutions (nonviolent resolutions, I might add).

White Privilege Conference

At the Race & Gender session at BlogHer '08, I mentioned the White Privilege Conference, a conference dedicated to exploring ways to dismantle systems of privilege, supremacy, and oppression. This conference takes place each year and each time is hosted by a different university. 2009's conference is in Memphis. Below are the links.

WPC Conference 2009

2008 WPC's Final Program

"Girls are just as good as boys in math"

Well, uh, duh...

"Largest study of its kind finds girls are just as good as boys in math"

Pride Displacing Failure

Here is an article from the NYT about a school raising their test scores and the students' (and teachers') pride replacing their failure. It isn't all about the "test", but we can certainly learn from this example and hope its positivity will be a catalyst elsewhere. We so seldom share the good news...

At Struggling School, Pride Displaces Failure

Post-BlogHer #2: The Questions

I'm hoping the next post has some answers, but first here are the questions I've been thinking about for the past few days:

-What kind of blogger am I?
-Does it matter if I don't identify as a "type"?
-What is my purpose in blogging?
-What issues insist I write about them? Feel about them?
-When is it time to step outside of the safety of the blog?
-How can I see my knowledge and experience as value to others?
-How can I engage others instead of using them for information?
-How can I project a more hopeful and positive message while still addressing the nastiness of my societal concerns?
-Do I have what it takes to write and submit an op-ed or engage in other media forums?
-If an expert is redefined as a resource to others, am I? In what?

And for my readers:
-In what way are you impacted by my posts here? The good? The bad? The "leave you with wanting more"? (this is not just a shameless plug for comments; I really need to know in order to make some changes)

Comment...comment away, readers - here, on Twitter, or email.

Post-BlogHer #1

I'm back. And I'm not sure where to start. I still need to decompress...to process.

San Francisco was a beautiful city. The bay - it soothed. Just to glance at it put me in a different place altogether. And I needed that after hours in the hotel. The hot/cold, big, swanky hotel. But - before going there, I should start at the beginning.

Thursday was "off". Traveling took almost all day, and the last thing I wanted to do was party with a bunch of strangers. Ok, ok...the last thing I ever want to do is party with a bunch of strangers. But Thursday night especially, I felt adrift. While checking in, I checked out the groups of squealing females clumped together in the hotel lobby. I don't know if it was because I was tired or what, but I swear I saw a few enlarged bobble-heads in the mix - bobbing and floating above the crowd...hmm - definitely had to have been hallucinating with fatigue because I didn't see them again. Anywayyyyyyy, I did finally meet up with a blogger I met online, and she introduced me to another woman with whom I want to stay in touch. Both of them wanted to talk - really talk, and for a short while, I felt the righteousness of the world slide into place.

Then came Friday. And wow - more squealing, more talking, more plans for partying. I was. out. of. my. element. Until the break-out sessions. When I was in the break-out sessions I felt grounded, engergized, ambitious. Although smaller groups of women attended the political, race and gender sessions, I was gratified by their smarts and bravery. I wanted much more than 45 minutes with them - in fact, I could have spent the entire conference within that group of women and it still wouldn't have been long enough. I know I can't sideline my thoughts and feelings about politics, race, and classism anymore. I have to engage differently from now on, and I'm excited to find out how.

Saturday brought one more session on beautiful blogging and positive posting. And it was in this session that I found a place of hope for my personal blogging. It changed my framework. I'm not sure how exactly, but I know I want to do things differently here. You may see some changes in the near future. I'm not sure what they'll look like, but there will be changes.

I skipped the last two keynotes. I just couldn't take the big crowds anymore. I couldn't again feel the isolation that is so striking in a large group. I could not come out of those smaller sessions with my head exploding with knowledge and my heart bursting with emotion and sit quietly among strangers. I just couldn't. And because of all of these reasons, I went to the wine country on Sunday. And for the first time in four days, I saw sunshine - felt it on my face. And I was happy (and perhaps a little drunk).

Then I came home. And I hugged and kissed my little one and my husband. Their arms brought me back - cleared my head of the San Francisco fog. And I spent the next 24 hours just being with them. I didn't look at the computer, talk on the phone, or read a book. No Twitter, no Facebook, nuthin'. Just quiet and peace together.

So here I am, rejuvinated and ready to process the junk in the trunk of my mind. So far, I have a few different threads to explore. I need to address the different writers inside of me and how to be both. I want to be both truthful and hopeful with this blog (and my life). I want to figure out what things "bothered" me about the conference - and why. And if there is anything I want to do differently so I won't be bothered by them - or not.

But because I have bills to pay and deadlines to meet for work, I can't do all of that now. But soon. Soon, I'll take my mental meanderings to the next level.

Chicago Bloggers

Today, I hosted the Chicago Bloggers Meet-Up, and some very cool women attended. We did meet 'n greet, passed out cards, and shared our favorite Chicago online resources.

If the attendees had blogs, they are linked below as are favorite sites and resources.

Blogs/Websites:

Barbararozgonyi-wiredprworks.com
www.teleflora.com/flowerblog
SugarMyBowl.Com/MomViews/FilipinaMoms/ChicagoMomsBlog
Weber Shandwick (Nora Sarrawi and Janna Porrevecchio)
Retro-Food.Com
Because I Said So!
Everyday Adventures in the City
Oh How Lovely
Chicago Examiner (Dana Kavan)
Free and Flawed/Must Love Geek
Notions of Identity

Links/resources

Being Savvy
Gapers Block
Chicagoist
Craigslist
Yelp
District 299
Foodmomiac

Just a Little San Franciso Singin' While I'm Gone

Let's Go to San Francisco

Let's go to San Francisco
Where the flowers grow
So very high

Sunshine in San Francisco
Makes your mind grow
Up to the sky

Lots of sunny people
Walking hand in hand
They're the lucky people
They have found their land

Let's go to San Francisco
Let the wind blow
Right through your hair
Go down to San Francisco
See the night full of people there

Let's go to San Francisco
Where the flowers grow
So very high

Sunshine in San Francisco
Makes your mind grow
Up to the sky

It's the summer in Frisco

-Flowerpot Men

I'm On My Way

When this entry posts, I'll be on my way to San Francisco to the BlogHer '08 conference. As you've been reading for several weeks, I'm ecstatic to be going. From everything I hear and read, it is an unbelievable opportunity to network, work, and play with some outstanding bloggers. But I'm also a teensy bit nervous. Well, maybe not so teensy - I'm actually shaking at bit with nerves.

As I said to another blogger recently, blogging is surreal. We share confidences from the safety of our personal little "blogdoms", and when people disagree or call us names (that actually hasn't happened yet to me, but I'm only 4 months in), we are sheltered by space physically and thanks to our good ole' friend, time, we can take as long as we'd like to respond - or decide not to at all. So even those of us, such as I, who have an underlying (and perhaps surprising to some) shyness can present to the world the confident and outspoken woman who has been inside of us screaming to get out. But what if no one likes her? In my quiet pre-dawn musings - in that place between "Mommeeee, I need some water" and falling into a dream - I think about San Francisco. 1000 women. That's a lot. And it is especially a lot for someone who has always felt just a bit uneasy around other females to begin with. For some reason, I was always the girl in the guys' group. The outsider among the varous cliques. And sure, high school was a decade and a half ago, but that part hasn't really changed.

So as I get closer to San Francisco, I think about my past and my future with the women I will encounter here. I hope they are kind and as generous as they are online. And I think about my future with blogging. I'm on the brink of something here. The possibilities are shining in a way they haven't in a long time. The tears are brimming nearer to the surface. I'm feeling more. Digging deeper. And I'm becoming a better writer - even if I haven't shown it yet, I am. I don't know what this weekend will bring, but it's a start. To somewhere.

I've written some entries that will be posted while I'm gone. I hope you enjoy them.

See you back here "live" on Tuesday!

A Freeze-Frame Kind of Day

The wee one had quite a day yesterday. She went to camp, had tap class, rode her bike to a play date, and then came home to play with another friend. Being an only child, this kind of day was rare for her. Our evenings are pretty serene (unless she is tantruming). We take walks, watch a few shows on the Noggin channel, play outside in our backyard. Her days are filled with friends at school, but nights are for us. Because I tend to obsess about many things, I have, of course, felt the guilt of her being the only child. But she is a well-adjusted kid who loves her imaginary friends (all five of them!) and makes up some pretty amusing worlds in which to frolic. This is a sign of genius, right?

But back to yesterday. She had a blast. And I was happy to see her enjoying herself and interacting so well with other kids. But do you want to know the best part of it? When she was getting ready to go to sleep, I kissed her cheeks and brushed her hair away from her face, and looking eye-to-eye, I asked her what she thought was the best part of her awesome day. And my warm little bit said, "when you came to pick me up at school, Mommy".

It doesn't get much better than that, friends. No, it doesn't.

"World's Oldest Blogger Signs Off at Age 108"

Wow. Super wow. That's all I have to say.

Click on the article if you want to read about this woman. Her blog is here, but I think it is on traffic overload today. With good reason.

If Gram Were Here

I'm missing the hell out of my grandma today. I don't know why. She's been gone for thirteen years, but this morning her absence aches. I was fine. I poured my coffee and was getting ready to boil my eggs when the feeling hit me so hard my knees almost buckled. And now I'm writing this with tears pouring down my face, hiccups of sorrow so unbelievably fresh even I'm surprised.

Maybe it's because my husband is stressed at work, and I know if she were here I could call her - ask how she supported my grandpa when he was worried about something at the store he ran. And not only would she listen, her advice would be timely - and errorless. She would understand my concern for my husband and how it camps out in a part of my heart until he feels better.

Or maybe I miss her more today because I dropped the wee one off at camp and not wanting me to leave her, she cried until finally I had to dash away, hoping her teacher's arms would give my beautiful little girl comfort from her sadness ( however momentary it will be). If Gram were here, I could stop over to her house for tea or coffee or cocoa. I could cry in her arms because my baby cried when I left and know she would stroke my hair with her nimble fingers and hold me and make it better. Somehow she'd make it all better.

Maybe today is a tough day because on every house and terrace are stunning planters of vivid flowers, and seeing them reminds me of how much she would appreciate them - and of how she is gone and she can't see them. Or maybe she can from where she is, but we can't see them together, and oh how I want to see them together. Simply imagining her smile and sparkle is just not enough. I want to walk beside her, her arm tucked through mine and enjoy something as simplistic as beautiful flowers.

Maybe I'm just pissed that she is gone. That in this life we all lose too much, experience too much pain. That the lessons don't easily justify the losses. Though we may experience hell and struggle through to a new and different life, at times it may not be worth the despair that put us there. Or the sadness. Or the loneliness. Maybe I'm angry at God for making the world as such that I'd feel this way at all.

Or maybe I am just a bit lost today, and Gram was always a tether guiding me home. No matter where I went or with whom, I knew she would be there to fix me if I were broken, heal me if I were sick. And she isn't anymore. Hasn't been for a long time - but I still don't know what to do when these moments hit. When I'm floating in a space and don't know how to get back home. To her. To ground.

It isn't enough to imagine her as she was. It just isn't.

Do YOU care about Christie Brinkley's Divorce?

I. Don't. Care. About. Christie. Brinkley. Or her divorce. Or her life. Or her 18 properties in the Hamptons that she gets to keep in her divorce settlement. Do you? I have a hunch on the answer...

So why then, is this headline front page news?

"Christie Brinkley settles N.Y. divorce case"

Does the mass media realize we have almost 1 million who are homeless each week? 45 million with no health care coverage? Women raped daily in the Congo? An epidemic of children being shot in cities across the country?

And they write articles about CHRISTIE BRINKLEY? Seriously? WTF?

Wicked - Wicked Good, That Is!

My cousin and I went to see Wicked yesterday at the Oriental Theater in Chicago, and it was amazing! I know it has been on Broadway for five years already, so it isn't exactly news, but the vibe in the theater certainly felt fresh. The excitement was palpable, and almost every seat was taken. Ours were in the balcony so we couldn't see the facial expressions of the actors, but instead we were able to view the entire set; it was phenomenal.

In case you don't know the plot of the musical, About.com has this brief description:

"set in Oz, long before the arrival of Dorothy, two young women meet in the Emerald City. One is intelligent, intense, and, having been born with emerald-green skin, misunderstood. The other is a popular, beautiful blond with ambitions. Wicked tells the story of how these two unlikely friends end up as the Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda the Good Witch of the North".

I have to admit I will never watch The Wizard of Oz again without considering the musical Wicked. I left absolutely loving and admiring both characters. There was so much heart - and goodness - in the story. And music - oh my, the music. Whenever I watch a musical, I yearn to be a stage actor with enough talent to awe an audience and sing at the same time. I become a bit of a blubbery, messy fan-type of person and begin glamorizing what the actors' lives must be like. When in reality, I know it is a struggle to be successful on stage. It isn't like Hollywood, where work on one movie can pay a year's mortgage (well, unless the actor is Julia Roberts or Glenn Close). But I still fantasize what a life like that would be like. This doesn't surprise most of you reading this (if you know me), I'm sure! Always wondering what an alternate reality would look like! LOL!

It was a magical few hours, though. And we were able to see a standby (understudy) actor play Elphaba. Jennifer DiNoia was exceptional. She had a wonderful voice and strong stage presence. At first, I was a bit disappointed we weren't able to see the "star", but the more I thought about it, I became excited we were seeing the standby. I imagined she was as excited to be on stage as we were to be sitting in the seats, and that added some additional pizazz to the experience. Whether her performance actually became stronger and bigger throughout the show or whether it was my imagination, by the time it ended, I couldn't imagine anyone else as Elphaba. She had won my heart. Completely. Then I googled her when I returned home (of course...stalker fan that I am) and discovered she is only 26, and my devotion wobbled a bit with jealousy, but then it straightened out again!

So for you musical lovin' readers, get to the show if Wicked comes to town. Chicago's run is indefinite, and I know New York and Los Angeles have runs, too. Tickets are pricey, but a visit to the Emerald City is worth every penny - even in the balcony seats!

First Book Review!

My first book review on Mamalit.com was published today! Yippee - does this mean I'm authentic now? LOL!!!

Check it out here.

Lazy Day Meditations

What a great lazy day. It was beautiful in Chicago - mid 80's, sunny, breezy but not windy - and was a perfect day to be by the water. Except for the trash. My god, the trash. It looked like a scene in WALL-E. Walking in the park, we passed over 20 trash cans and recycle bins along the path, yet there was trash EVERYWHERE. And what is even more amazing than the trash is the sheer number of people willing to walk past it, over it, around it WITHOUT PICKING IT UP! I had the wee one chase a plastic bag down across the grass, and as we followed her I picked up a few cups here, another bag there, empty wrappers all over. Seriously, I know most of the people partying in the park on the 4th were probably drunk or high or both, but how difficult is it to walk a few feet to throw away some trash?

I'm thinking of organizing a beach clean up when I get back from San Francisco later this month. It was bad. So bad I'm not sure I want to go back to that particular beach. Yuck.

We finished off the evening with a visit out to Oak Park and dinner at Trattoria 225, a fabulous restaurant our friends own. Relaxing with the hubster and wee one was a treat, and the drive home along Lakeshore was breathtaking. It never fails to make me shake my head in awe, and when I remind myself this is my town now, I get almost giddy with glee. Just plant me next to a body of water and some sand, and I'm set for life.

I have all kinds of thoughts running around in my head, and I'm sure soon they'll burst out. Obama's stances on some things this week have been puzzling; I miss my folks like crazy; and, of course there is the never-ending question of what to do when I grow up. But for now, as I'm enjoying dusk in the city, it's enough to savor a day that doesn't come along all that often - a day when we are together and the sun shines, my child smiles (and spells...damn, she's smart!), and my partner laughs. For today, it's enough to hold those images close and lay my head on their pillow. Tomorrow, I'll once again welcome my buddies, ambiguity and confusion. But not tonight. Tonight I'm flying solo without them. And I'm gonna enjoy it.

Don't Know if He's Pandering, but I'm feeling Squeamish

First Obama indicates his support for the FISA bill, and now in an interview with a Christian magazine he seemingly wavers a bit on his stance on late-term abortion. I won't quote him because this article does it for me and sums up how I'm feeling on the entire Obama situation right now.

I, for one, am thinking I'll take a nap - one of the four month long variety.

Quote of the Day

I read this in Annalee Newitz's farewell column today on Alternet.org and felt it warranted "quote of the day" status.

"Don't ever stop ruthlessly criticizing everything that exists. It is the only way we'll survive."

Dreamin' of BlogHer '08

I had this dream last night I was at BlogHer '08, and my new Notions business cards hadn't arrived in time.

Sob.

So what did I do? How did I respond? A little heist action, of course. In the wee hours of dawn I broke into the mailroom at the conference hotel and raided all of the packages. Where were my cards, dammit?

I never found them.

Mid scramble I woke up in a sweat, my heart thumpin' mightily.


To say I'm eagerly awaiting BlogHer '08 would be putting it mildly, my friends.


UPDATE 4 pm: Guess what arrived in my mailbox today? Yup, you guessed it: my cards! The universe at work is a magical thing!

Warm Fuzzies

My mom just sent me this email and gave me warm fuzzies all over. Read it and you'll understand why I love her so much.

From my mom:
I thought you might like this. I love you so much. I miss the times when we played snuggle buggle boo, when we would look at the stars at night from your bedroom window, when you and I would play rich at the department stores, when we would dance silly, when you and I would hug and you'd put your hands on my cheeks and say I love you so much, Mommy. You are my heart.
Mamacita

Just for this day.

Just for this morning, I am going to smile whenever I see your face.
and laugh when I feel like crying.

Just for this morning, I will let you wake up softly, all rumpled in your
flannel and I will hold you until you are ready.

Just for this morning, I will let you choose what you want to wear, and
smile and say you're beautiful.

Just for this morning, I am going to step over the laundry, and pick you
up and take you to the park to play.

Just for this morning, I am going to eat a huge breakfast , with bacon
eggs, toast and waffles, and you don't have to eat any.

Just for this morning, I will leave the dishes in the sink, and let you
teach me how to put that 100 piece puzzle together.

Just for this afternoon, I will unplug the telephone and keep the
computer off, and sit with you in the garden blowing bubbles.

Just for this afternoon, I will not yell once, not even a tiny grumble
when you scream and whine for the ice cream truck, and I will buy you one if he comes by.

Just for this afternoon, I won't worry about what you are going to be
when you grow up or who you might have been before your diagnosis.

Just for this afternoon, I will let you help me bake cookies, and I won't
stand over you trying to 'fix' things.

Just for this afternoon, I will let you put all kinds of barettes in my
hair, and put lipstick on my face, and I will tell you how pretty you have made me look.

Just for this afternoon I will take you to McDonalds and buy us both a
Happy meal so you can have both toys.

Just for this evening, I will hold you in my arms and tell you a story
about how you were born, and how much we love you.

Just for this evening, I will let you splash in the bathtub and not get
angry when you throw water over your sister's head.

Just for this evening, I will let you stay up late while we sit on the
porch swing and count all the stars.

Just for this evening, I will bring you glasses of water, and snuggle
beside you for three hours and miss my favorite show on t.v.

Just for this evening, When I kneel down to pray, I will simply be
grateful for all that I have and not ask for anything, except

just one more day.

Sally

Autism is not the end of the World. . . . just
the beginning of a new one.
copyright. 1999. Sally Meyer

Also, if you want to read the story where I first learned about warm fuzzies, click here.

UPDATE 7/3/08: I was contacted today by the author of this poem, and she was gracious enough to share the poem in its original text with the correct copyright information. Apparently, certain editing occurs once a piece becomes a chain email. Thank you, Sally. Beautiful poem.