Suebob and Sarah, BlogHer 2006

That seems crazy. I remember thinking that fifty was pretty old. Suebob isn’t old. How is this possible? I mean, I understand how it is possible – I assume this means she was born on July 6, 1961 – that is how birthday math works, but how is it possible that my friends are turning 50? We’re still young and nimble-ish.

I don’t mean to say that it snuck up on me. I have been following Suebob’s 50 for 50 project since May. You know about this, right? If not, read this:

…what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want presents. I don’t want cards. I don’t even want cake. What I want is for the world to be a little more of a kind and generous place, and if my birthday can be the catalyst for that, that would bring me so much joy.

SO! Here’s the plan: each day, for the next 50 days, I will feature one worthwhile organization that is doing good works. I want my gift to be to open up this space to these organizations and see what happens. I’d like for people to pick one or several and get involved, either by donating, volunteering or taking action. I’ll give information about the organization, a donation link, and, if I can, a way to take action other than through a monetary donation.

Suebob is pretty amazing, isn’t she?

I totally stole this from Stimey’s flickr stream. Thanks Jean!

Suebob also has fabulous taste in friends. That is why a bunch of us are getting together and wishing her a very happy 50th birthday by supporting some of her charities.

Please join us. It is for a wonderful lady and 50 fantastic causes.

You can find links to all of them here.

Happy birthday, Suebob.  The internet is a better place because of people like you.

* * *

From one of the Chicago BlogHers. Probably '07.

Claudia teaching Suebob about interwebs.

Basically, I need Johnny Knox to score at least 14 more fantasy points than Sidney Rice this evening in order to keep my fantasy football season alive.

In December. In an outside, nationally televised game. It will be snowing.

Don’t judge me. I had Frank Gore and Tony Romo.

Do you see that Mike Vick bullshit up there? He had 3 points at halftime. THREE! Stupid second half comeback. Stupid 45 points. That man sold his soul, I tell you. I would have won this handily if it weren’t for that guy.

I’m no tactical football guru, but I’m guessing that at 18 degrees Fahrenheit with a windchill that makes it feel like -1 there won’t be a ton of long passing plays. I mean, I could be wrong, glove technology may have come a long way but can you even imagine what it would feel like to catch a football in that weather? Ouch!

Go #13!

I have this very vivid memory of standing in the parking lot with my friend Melissa and she was complaining about how she couldn’t quite sing this particular passage as well as the woman on the CD. She was really frustrated. She was one of the best singers at our university and she just couldn’t get the breath control or the tone that she was hearing. I looked at her CD (yeah, this was way back in the 90s when we actually bought compact discs and carried them around with us.) and I said “Well maybe the problem is that the woman on this recording is Kiri Te Kanawa. Nobody can sing like her.”

At some point we had stopped comparing ourselves to other 19 year olds and started comparing ourselves to a 45-year-old professional opera singer who had been knighted (or damed, or whatever you call it when it happens to a woman) for exceptional singing. Melissa was trying to figure out why she, at 19 years old, could not make the same music as a woman who sang at Prince Charles and Lady Diana’s wedding.

If you ever studied vocal pedagogy you know that a woman’s voice does not hit full maturity until she is in her thirties or sometimes even her forties, and don’t even start with me about that little girl from Pittsburgh. What is her name? Jackie Evancho? Yeah, that just isn’t right. She shouldn’t be able to sing like that at 10. Something is wrong there, and I don’t mean she is a savant, I mean she needs to see a doctor because she should not medically be able to make those sounds at her age. Her vocal chords should not be able to do that yet.

Thinking about what you are actually putting yourself up against can really help put some things in perspective.

I was thinking about that because I read this and this.

It was based on the same writing prompt as I had when I buried a paragraph about hating my belly in another post.

I have been taking my 30 days of truth and writing 10th grade essays about what I need to forgive myself for and other people – my friends! – are writing stories. They are creating art.

I started to feel bad about myself and my skill or lack thereof when I remembered that day in the parking lot. Maybe it isn’t that I’m not good. Maybe it is that I have reached a new place, the level where I am holding myself to a higher standard. Maybe it is that I am finally confident enough to think that I should be able to do what I do that well.  Yes, Laurie and Christine are better writers than I am, but I can legitimately call them my peers. Five years ago I could never have done that.

Melissa couldn’t sing like Kiri then, but today she is 36 and you should hear her now. She is a professional opera singer.

And I am a writer.

[photo by Laurie White]

That is how long it took me to start crying after I got back into town.

I wasn’t even actually home yet.

I don’t know why I was surprised. This happens every year. I go to BlogHer and I leave feeling amazing. I see people I only get to talk to face to face once a year. I meet people in person that I have been internet friends with for five years. I watch amazing panels of women inspire me to be a better writer, mother, artist, person. I get more compliments in three days than I do for the other 362 days a year combined.

At BlogHer I make business connections. I learn. I socialize. I reunite. I am recognized as a writer. As a business woman. As an individual.

At home I am recognized as “Ian’s Mom”.

At BlogHer people ask me how I do it all.

At home people ask me why I’m not doing more.

At BlogHer I am one of the hosts of the most amazing party. We had a cake from Charm City Bakery, we had a DJ and we did The Hustle. I was sparkly.

Jen and Sarah posing as “robot hookers”. We actually wore the same dress to Sparklecorn. What are the odds that two people would buy this dress? Photo by Laurie White

At home there is a rotting cantaloupe on my kitchen counter, my sink is full of dishes and I can’t find my glasses anywhere.

At BlogHer I meet with producers of major television news networks that want to discuss the upcoming book in which two of my essays will appear.

At home it is dismissed because it is a “little blogging thing” and did you hear my sister-in-law is going to have an article in Oprah’s magazine? Did I know that she was a real writer?

At BlogHer I sit on panels next to WNBA champions and people come to the session to hear me speak.

With Megan Hueter and Kelly Mazzante at BlogHer 10. Photo by Laurie White

At home I sit next to my cat who will not stop meowing. I have no idea why.

At BlogHer I say intelligent things and people write it down.

At home I walk into the wall and hurt my elbow.

The same wall that has been in the same place ever since I moved here in 2006.

Every year it is like this. Maybe next year, when I go to my sixth BlogHer I will stop being surprised.

I’ll see you in San Diego.

Even if you don’t like sports, this site will crack you up.

Please do yourself (and me) a favor and go check it out.

I cross posted it here so you can all read these wonderful posts because every single one of them made me laugh.

Did you know that April was National Humor Month? Neither did I until a two weeks ago, but it is true. National Humor month was founded in 1976 by author and humorist Larry Wilde.

I love humor. I love laughing. I don’t even care if I get laugh lines, when I am laughing I am having fun. Nothing would make me happier than a real life ROFLcopter or to actually witness somebody laughing their ass off – wait, that wouldn’t be funny at all. That would be disgusting. I would like to retract that last thing, but the sentiment remains true. I love comedy and I have a deep fondness for laughter.

The trick here is that humor doesn’t always come easy. A lot of people try to be funny and fail. Like the last words of Sir Donald Wolfit: “Dying is easy, comedy is hard.”

I’ve never tried dying, so I cannot verify the first part, but I can certainly attest that writing comedy can be tough. How can a writer possibly know what will be funny to other people? How can we type something so that the reader will have the correct phrasing in their mind when reading it?

What if I think it is funny and everybody else just thinks I am a stupid asshole?

I’m sure that happens to me more than I would like to admit. Fortunately for you guys there are much funnier women than I writing funny blog posts every single day.  Postcards From Yo Momma makes me laugh on a regular basis, KDiddy’s Big Love recaps on MamaPop are funny even if you don’t watch “Big Love”, and everybody loves The Bloggess.

For you reading pleasure I have assembled 10 absolutely hysterical posts written by women. Enjoy.

10) We Do More to Embarrass Ourselves By 10:00 am Than Most People Do All Day – Stimeyland

Full disclosure: Stimey is my friend in real life, but the reason is this: she cracks my shit up every time I see her. She is equally funny in real life and she is constantly writing things like this:

I imagine that I was having a blood sugar reaction. I have hypoglycemia (and, yes, I know everyone has hypo-fucking-glycemia, but I was actually tested for and diagnosed with it) and hadn’t eaten that morning. I think that combined with the unexpected stair climb and that horrible room that seemed to be situated INSIDE THE FUCKING SUN took me down.

and her visit to the doctor gets worse after that.

9) Been spendin’ most my life, ridin’ on a gangsta’s motorized stair seat – Steam Me Up, Kid

If that title didn’t make you laugh, this probably will.

I will drink anything if it has a cherry or some kind of fruit or accessory in/hanging off the glass. You know those plastic monkeys that hang by their tails off the rim? Done. You could fill a martini glass up with phlegm and kitty litter and hang a monkey off the glass and maybe an umbrella, and I’d be all, “Holy crap is this a party or what? This drink sure tastes like vacation!”

The Pleasure Hunt – Wrestling With Retirement

All this debate aroused my curiosity, so, parking my bare butt on a mirror, flashlight in hand, I decided to do some research of my own.  With one leg behind my ear, having cleared away the cobwebs, I perused the, ah, territory and confess I found no letters of the alphabet in residence in my hoo-hah.  Granted, I wear bifocals; I might have missed it.  It’s possible that it shriveled up and fell out due to inactivity.  Or, the Brits could be right, and there never was one.

Texas is the zipper on Satan’s parachute pants.

So apparently everyone knows what the mysterious sigil thing is, and apparently it’s a conspiracy against me (AS MOST THINGS ARE) and I feel like I’m watching Mulholland Drive for the first time and everyone else but me understands why tiny old people are line-dancing in a sandwich bag.  Whatever. At least it’s a great ‘S” hinge word to use to build off of another word in Scrabble.

Diana hypothesizes that after watching Dancing with the Stars she believes the reason Jon left Kate Gosselin was because she is such a bad dancer.

I know what you might be about to say: “But Diana, have a little compassion! Do you understand what kind of pressure she must be under? Have you ever tried to learn a dance in a week with absolutely no idea what you’re doing and some crazy militant teacher losing their shit? It’s difficult!”

Of fucking course I’ve had to do that. I am from a Hardass Asian Family. Come on.

Of course she is kidding, but Diana goes on to tell her own talent show story. I am so glad I never have to be in 5th grade again.

5) Someone get these dark chocolate covered pomegranate seeds out of my kitchen! – Fluid Pudding

I met Angela at BlogHer ’08. I was already a fan of her blog but since meeting her in person I am absolutely smitten…

Anyway, because I wasn’t thrilled with the decorative red and itchy jean rings, I decided to take 12 weeks to drop the 14 pounds. And this is important: I decided to do it without adding any sort of exercise. Because zero exercise + zero exercise = I get to stay on the couch and knit! You think I’m lazy! You are correct! Don’t ask me to high five you. It might make me palpitate!

…and I like the way she thinks.

4) Pay it Forward, The Grating-est Generation – Jive Turkey

You know those annoying e-mails that your friend’s mom or your aunt always forwards you? People born in 1980 have always had a microwave, my generation drank from a garden hose and didn’t die, forward this to 10 strong women and your wish will come true… crap like that? Yeah, well, Jive Turkey got one of those and it pissed her off.

Things/people/events from our respective upbringings are sacred and special (and therefore, THE BEST) because we remember them through the soft-focus filter of childhood, when our lives generally weren’t burdened with things like mortgages, jobs, bills, a Tivo that keeps recording episodes of iCarly for no discernible reason, etc. Whenever I hear someone sincerely refer to the era in which they were raised as “a simpler time,” I want to punch them in the crotch, because OF COURSE IT WAS A SIMPLER TIME, YOU ASSHAT. YOUR UNDERPANTS STILL HAD SUPERHEROES ON THEM.

And I took great delight in her disgust…

Actually, you know who said it best? BILLY JOEL, fools. He drove his car into a tree and married an infant, but HE knows the fucking score:  “The good old days weren’t always good, and tomorrow ain’t as bad as it seems.”

… because that is funny.

3) Star Wherefore Art Thou – Amalah

I know. Including Amy is kind of cheating. It is too easy, she has been consistently hilarious for like 10 years and she is a blogging rock star, but you know why?

Last week Jason and I were outside on the back deck, dueling via the Lightsaber app on our phones. (BECAUSE OF COURSE WE WERE.) “Dueling” mostly entails waving your phone back and forth a lot and pretending to block your opponent’s imaginary lightsaber blade. It’s kind of like playing on the Wii, only with way less dignity.

Yeah, that is why.

2) Never get into a thumb war with death. Death has really, really long thumbs. – Sweet | Salty

Who can make a bittersweet post about death funny? Kate can.

Kate:  I’m not afraid of you, you know.

Death:  I know.

Kate:  I’ve seen you before.

Death:  I know.

Kate:  I just don’t like it when you hang around my family.

Death:  Not many people do.

Kate:  You’re just so damned arbitrary.

Death:  Am not.

Kate:  Are too.

Death:  Am not.

Kate:  Oh christ. Stop that.

Death:  Oh christ. Stop that.

Kate:  Quit copying me!

Death:  Quit copying me!

Kate: (glares)

Death: (snickers)

1) Stuck In The Middle With You – Knotty Yarn

Hands down, THE funniest thing I’ve ever read.

Day One – Sunday…

…So, sex. And then getting dressed and actually running errands. As I’m sitting in the car, on our way to the fabric store, I got a sinking feeling in my guts.

I think I just had sex with a tampon inside of me.

I had the pleasure of hearing Danielle read this post at the Community Keynote session of BlogHer ’09. I was crying. I was howling. I was pounding my fists on the table.

Day Two – Monday

I spend the day at school, pushing on my stomach, trying to feel for the cotton alien. I’ve never had anything in my uterus before, so I’m not sure how I’d even know it was there. Actually, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to feel my uterus through the layers of muscle, fat, and other organs. Actually, in all honesty, I don’t even know where my uterus specifically is, but I imagine it’s somewhere in the…middle..part…of the torso. Near the other pipes and tubes that..regulate…stuff.

I’ve been known to overreact to situations, but I still feel my behavior in this case was justified.

Day Three – Tuesday

Oh god I’m dying.

I’ve done the thing you should never do when you think there is something medically wrong – I asked the internet.

It just keeps getting funnier. I won’t tell you how it ends, but I will tell you that day three is not the last day and that is you don’t go read it right now your world will not be as happy as it could be.

Wait! Unless you are at work. If you are at work wait until you get home to read it, otherwise your co-workers will hear you laughing and come over to your desk you’ll have to explain about Danielle’s tampon issues and also admit that you were reading blogs at work.

I hope you had as much fun reading these as I did digging them up. Enjoy the rest of National Humor Month, even if you aren’t American, and feel free to leave me links to posts that make you laugh. I am always up for more comedy gold.

Photo by Laurie White.

My other friend Jean, you might know her as Stimey, had a fabulous idea. We all want to support Susan, but we don’t want to dwell on her illness. Since Susan is a scientist, Jean thought that we should have a virtual science fair in her honor.

I jumped at the chance to honor Susan, then in typical Sarah fashion I procrastinated all week, then panicked because science is not my strong suit.

I am a writer and a musician for a reason, people.

But! It turns out that we did science accidentally. It wasn’t so much a science project, as our hypothesis would have to be something like “Tomatoes and peppers may grow in our side yard if we plant them.” but it was an experiment as we’ve never tried to grow anything in this particular flower bed before.

Behold:

My kids told their grandparents that we are farmers.

And of course these three did most of the dirty work.

What? Somebody had to take pictures with their cell phone. (Did I tell you that Nikon finally made me return Precious?)

Science is all fun and games until somebody gets very tired and her Dad touches her with his dirty hand.

My prediction is that we will grow tomatoes and they will taste better than the ones at the grocery store and I will save money on my salads and fajitas.

Ian’s prediction is that deer will come to our house and eat our vegetables.

Gabe’s prediction  is that Ian will sneak out in the middle of the night, eat all of the tomatoes and blame rogue deer.

Claudia was ignoring me when I asked for input.

* * *

We love you, Susan. Thanks for the inspiration.  I’ll bring you some beautiful bell peppers by the end of the summer.

If you don’t read her, you really should. Need proof? Read this.

Now without further ado, behold Hilly (and my mad interviewing skillz):

1) Where the hell is your about page?
It’s right here! Okay okay, to be fair, I created it *after* you asked me this question because I wanted to be able to say I made an About Page just for you!  The truth is that I took down my About Page right after I got separated and moved to Florida because I honestly had no idea what I was “about” at the time.  It’s amazing how loss of any kind can mess with your mind so much that you forget that even though some of your outside forces have changed, who you are on the inside basically remains the same.  I spent too much time in my marriage letting both him and the marriage define me and now, I define myself.  It was actually awesome to go write my About Page last weekend and have it be way easy peasy lemon squeezy.  Thanks for asking this question…you pushed me in a good direction!

2) What is the best book you ever read? Fiction? Non-Fiction?
These questions are always the hardest because for me “best” is always subjective and is ever-changing with my mood and what I’m going through in my life.  I will have to say that there are two works of Fiction that have always stuck with me and they are classics.  I love both Of Mice and Men and Jane Eyre for very different reasons, obviously.  Even though they both are about very different things, there’s a twistiness about their insides that speaks to me.  As far as Non-Fiction goes, this is going to make me sound soooo uncool but I cannot stand Non-Fiction books in general.  I know that’s a very broad statement so let me backtrack…I don’t generally prefer Non-Fiction even though I will read something if I get in the mood.  I generally go for books that will help my guts like The Purpose Driven Life or The Four Agreements.  I think the best work of Non-Fiction I’ve ever read though has to be The Bible, which some would argue is Fiction.  To me, it’s not.

3) What is your favorite movie of all time and why?
Dude, again with the favorites!  I kid, I kid…mostly.  I was just having a discussion about this with a group of people the other day and we decided that it’s really hard to say you have a favorite movie because really, each genre that exists is so different.  I mean, I can watch Pride & Prejudice (Colin Firth BBC version), Gone With the Wind, and The Wizard of Oz over and over again and never tire of them.  When I’m in a chick flick mood, Bridget does it for me every time.  When I’m in the mood for horror, I have a penchant for those Hellraiser dudes even though the acting in those movies is horrible!  When I am in the mood for a musical, I put on Grease or Into the Woods.  I guess if I really truly had to pick a favorite though, it would be Pulp Fiction.  Or maybe The Princess Bride.  Or maybe Moulin Rouge.  Yikes!  Actually, if I really seriously totally have to pick ONE?  Amélie.

4) Name your top three albums of all time.
Ahhhh, okay…this one will be a wee bit easier.  Mostly. I mean, you are totally having me define myself here today!  It’s all crazy for a girl who normally just talks about emotional bullshit.
1.  Tori Amos – Little Earthquakes
2. Depeche Mode – Black Celebration
3.  Sarah Brightman – Eden

5) If you were sentenced to death what would you choose for your last meal?
I’d probably be too nervous to eat but if I had to?  Crispy chicken tacos (made with an oily-ass shell), dripping with cheese and meat then a nice filet mignon that melted in  mah mouth followed by the most decadent chocolate lava cake ever made.  Oh, and a diet coke.

6) Why do you blog?
I think that the main reason I blog is that I like the sense of community and the friendships that come from knowing someone so intimately.  I know people from all different walks of life, different careers, different relationship choices, etc and it is so amazing to see that deep down inside, most of us are the same.  We have the same needs, wants and feelings on a base level.  I’m always inspired when people write me to thank me for being so open about this divorce process and moving forward because they too are going through it and had no idea that someone out there was feeling exactly the same way.  The second reason that I blog is purely therapeutic.  I can’t afford a therapist so I just sit down and write whatever emotions come to me and let that all flow into whatever I have to say on any given day.  I sometimes (but not often) worry that people who read my blog think that they only emotions I have are the ones that get expressed here when the reality is that I probably pour way more confusion and sadness or anger or whatever onto this blog so that it’s NOT in my soul.

7) What is your favorite blog? (No fair saying one of your own)
Um yeah, way to get me in trouble, Sarah!  I was going to go to my Google Reader and start comparing and contrasting the blogs that I read so that I could make an informed decision and not hurt anyone’s feeling but…fuck it.  I will just go with the first blog that popped into my head when I read this.  I love Faiqa’s blog, Native Born.  She is such an amazing and intelligent woman with a fortitude like none I’ve ever seen before.  She has a way with words that draws you in and makes you feel like she’s talking specifically to you.  She’s just got a way about her (thanks Billy Joel).  These are two of my favorite posts she has written: She Didn’t *Have* To Ask For Her Heart In A Box and Upsy Daisy In The Bed Of Roses. But don’t just read the ones I like…read them all!

* * *

You can read where Natalie interviewed me on her blog The Bobby Pin.

Feel free to play along.

Gabe does most of the quality cooking in this joint, but I try to do at least half of the cooking.

This is why I was on the internet trying to figure out how to hard boil an egg.

I mean, yes, I know you boil eggs in a pan with water in it on the stove, but I was looking for cooking times. Hard boiled eggs always trip me up.

I went to my handy dandy search engine and I searched for “perfect hard boiled egg”.

And you want to hear something crazy? I chose the third entry because it looked the most promising and it just so happens that I personally knew the person who wrote the article.

I don’t mean that I met her at a book signing or we were introduced once at a cocktail party. I mean she used to be my boss.

I just took 40 minutes finding a picture of us together from BlogHer ’07 and it turns out I look like a crazy person with balloon head and so I won’t post it, but thanks to the glory that is Flickr (and the genius of Isabel via twitter):

Picture Courtesy  Mom2Summit flickr pool

We are the two in the middle. I am the pasty one. She is the one with the pretty hair.

My whole point is that what are the odds that I find a random recipe on the internet and it turns out to be written by someone I actually know? Maybe this web isn’t so wide after all.

And also, thanks, Stefania. My eggs were perfect.