Did I mention the awesomeness?

So, yeah. Remember how I said I was going to tell you all kinds of stuff about BlogHer? Well, screw it. There are so many posts out there about the experience and if you really wanna know something that you haven’t heard about, just email me.

Let me just say that Shelly Overlook, Spuddy Buddy, Becky and TNG are so awesome it makes my teeth ache. I mean seriously, seriously awesome. Think of the most awesome thing you can think of. Ok, now multiply that by 47. THAT’S how awesome they are.

Moving on… I had my orientation at The Restaurant on Wednesday and HOLY SHIT. Being a server is way harder than it looks, people. Also, I’m the oldest server there. I’m Grandma Waitress, for cryn’n out loud. Anyhow, I’m training again tomorrow and Sunday and then Tuesday. After that, I’ll be a real, live waitress. SQUEE! I sure hope I don’t fail miserably at it. Oh well. If nothing else there’ll ample blog fodder, right? Oh, you’d better believe I checked the handbook for prohibitions on tattoos and blog posting. Not one. single. word. about it. Take that, old Workplace with your batshit crazy manangers!

P.S. If I’m still alive after working this weekend, I plan to post about my (belated) one year post gastric bypass shenanigans. Shenanigans, people. You know you don’t want to miss that.

P.P.S. I also need to tell you about my BlogHer/Dawn Grace tattoo and the excruiating pain I endured. And the GORGEOUS tattoo for which I endured said pain.

P.P.P.S. Nah, I don’t really have another one. I just wanted to type “P.P.P.S.”

I am still waiting for the apology, Gerald.

So, it’s a known scientific fact the the blue m&ms taste better than all the other colors. I mean, you guys already knew this right? No? Are you shitting me? Are you telling me that you don’t separate your m&ms into color groups and eat them in order of preference always saving the best ones, BLUE, for last? Jesus H., people. How have you lived all these years without me?

Listen, the blue ones are totally the best. (No, they don’t all taste the same, Gerald. Shut up.) If the package of m&ms were to have instructions for eating they would be as follows:

1. Open the bag.
2. Dump out contents onto bed, lap, plate, napkin, whatev.
3. Sort m&ms by color and place into piles.
4. Ensure that each pile has the same number of m&ms in it.
5. Eat the extra ones immediately.
6. Eat the brown ones.
7. Eat the yellow ones.
8. Eat the orange ones.
9. Eat the green ones.
10. No, the green ones don’t make you horny. Grow the fuck up already.
11. Eat the red ones.
12. Yeah, they used to kill people, but not anymore.
13. Eat the blue ones.
14. Steal any remaining blue ones from your husband, wife, friends, children, strangers, etc.

However, there are no instructions on m&ms because those bags are pretty small and there are a lot of instructions. So better to leave them off entirely than to publish a partial list. I mean, what if it stopped at #8? Then you’d be all “Now what? I’ve got green and red and blue left! What am I supposed to do now?” And then you’d be calling the m&ms people and they’d have to hire more people to answer their phones and then they’d have to charge more for m&ms to pay for this increase in staff and suddenly people would be all “I’m NOT paying $12.95 for a bag of m&ms that I don’t even know how to eat!” and m&ms would go out of business and I’d never get any more blue ones again.

Anyhow, Gerald found this article today and it seems I’m completely right. I do not have a spinal injury at this VERY MOMENT because I eat all the blue ones I can find.

Now, he’s found this article. I’m thinking if they could find a way to put these nanodiamonds INTO blue m&ms then we’d be fucking indestructible, right?

Home

I’m sitting here with Maddie watching Wall-E for the eleven hundred and forty-second time. She’s nakey snakey, save for a diaper, and munching on dry Kix. Every now and then she pauses to talk to me about the movie. “Mama! Wall-E’s sleeping. Wall-E wakem up soon.” “Mama! Wall-E’s finding things!” “Eva’s coming, mama!”

I can’t remember what life was like before these constant interruptions. I like to imagine that it was glamorous and filled with trips to Monaco and sleeping late every day, but I’m pretty sure that’s a lie. I bet there were 40 hour work weeks and too much eating in restaurants and a vague feeling of emptiness. I do remember driving along in my not-a-minivan car with my rap music turned up inappropriately loud. Yesterday in the car, we sang the alphabet song five times in row. Still inappropriately loud, though.

Now, my life is dictated by her constant demands. The feel of her little body resting against mine feels me with a peace that I didn’t know was achievable. The scent of her hair calms my racing heart and feels like home. Her laugh is infectious and fills the air with silver sparkles. Her cries fill me with dread and cause me to shake my fist at the universe that dared to create whatever the hell it was that pissed her off. (More often than not, it’s me that pissed her off.)

When I look at our girl, I see the very best and very worst of us. She has my fiery temper and his hair. She has my eyes and his love of music. She talks incessantly like I do and she loves technology like he does.

“Mama! We’re watchin’ Wall-E! I love Wall-E!”

Yes, baby. We are. And I love you.

Afterglow

I have so very many things to tell you about BlogHer that I’m not sure where to begin. So, let’s begin at the beginning, shall we?

Here’s an list of the topics I want to cover:
1. Why you should go to BlogHer10 in NYC
2. Things to consider in choosing a roommate
3. Why your outfits don’t matter in the least
4. Things I will do differently next year
5. The people I met
6. The essential packing list

(I’m not going to write about these in any particular order, but I do intend to cover them all over the course of this week.)

Since “The People I Met” is really foremost in my mind, I’m going to start there. First of all, let’s establish that I’m a total dork. I’m not afraid to go “fanboy” on anyone and will strike up conversations with strangers at the drop of a hat. I’m not socially awkward in the “shy” vein, but in the “who the hell was that and why was she throwing herself at me?” vein. And I’m ok with that. I own it. I can’t tell you how your experience might be if you’re the shy type. But if you’re a loudmouth, then listen up: The women I met at BlogHer were phenomenal. Friendly, appreciative of fawning, funny, intelligent and, most importantly, JUST LIKE US. No one cared about my outfits, no one cared whether or not my pedicure was fresh, and the only comments I got about my hair were positive ones. I didn’t look at your outfits and judge, (other than to compliment) I didn’t notice if you were fat or skinny, or that zit that showed up on Thursday morning. I noticed if you were funny, if you were having fun and whether or not you had business cards to share.

I was afraid it would be cliquey and exclusive. I was afraid I wouldn’t fit in. I was afraid that I was a nobody with 15 readers and people would wonder why the hell I thought I belonged there. Not a single one of those fears was founded. I threw myself at Linda, Ree and Eden with unabashed gushing. They were graceful and appreciative and certainly did not look down their noses at me. They seemed genuinely appreciative of my fawning. You know, as opposed to taking out a restraining order against me. All of the other women I met were just so happy to be there that it was contagious. I can honestly say that I cannot remember ever laughing that much in my adult life and I absolutely cannot wait to do it all again next year in NYC!

Fun Fact Friday – The Triumphant Return!

* Maddie is completely and totally obsessed with Wall-E. We’ve watched approximately eleventy kajillion times. I woke up to the sound of her singing about her “wobots” this morning. It’s kind of adorable.

* I’m officially no longer employed at The Workplace. I know you’re all DYING to know the sitch, but I’m afraid it’s going to be pretty anticlimactic for you. Long and incredibly boring story short: There was a reorg and my position was eliminated. I was put back on the phones which is the job I started out in four years ago. I hate the phones. And it was such a slap in the face that every promotion I’d earned over the course of four years was wiped out in one fell swoop. Add a batshit crazy senior manager and it was a recipe for disaster. I tried my best to make it work, but it just wasn’t happening. I tried to negotiate with the batshit crazy manager but her batshit craziness sort of got in the way and I ended up having to resign. The day after I resigned I got a job waiting tables at a local restaurant. I’ve gotten some strange looks from folks when I tell them I’m giving up being a stockbroker in favor of being a waitress, but you know what? I’m so excited about it. I’m so ready to get out of the finance industry and learn something new. I don’t need to work, but I’m no good at being poor. I just need some spending money and no drama.

* Maddie’s spending the night with my dad and his wife tonight. Gerald and I are going on a real live date and sleeping in late tomorrow. WOO HOO!

* Sunday, Maddie and I are going to visit Gerald’s family down south. I’m going to stay until Wednesday and then come home and Maddie’s going to stay with her Nana and Papa until Saturday. That way Gerald has some free time while I’m in Chicago.

* Speaking of Chicago, BlogHer is in six days. I’ve gotten my hair cut, eyebrows waxed and a pedicure. I’m mentally packing and repacking trying to decide what to wear. I’m rehearsing my pick up lines and party banter. I’m loading my Kindle with books for the flight there and back. I think I’m ready for this.

* I threw myself a happy hour shindig on Wednesday night to say goodbye to my coworkers and friends. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I got shitfaced and embarrassed the hell out of myself. If I hadn’t already resigned I would have had to after that. There was no way I could face those people again. I’m told there was a lot of eye-contact avoidance at work the next morning. AWKWARD.

T minus three days and counting…

Wednesday is officially my last day as an employee at The Workplace.

Confidentially, tomorrow is really my last day. I can say with 100% certainty that I will be doing  as close to nothing as I can get away with for the next three days. I mean, what are they going to do? Fire me?

Mufasa, is that you?

We got a packet of crafty-type things from Maddie’s daycare last week. After dinner, we went through them all as a family and “oohed and aahed” over Maddie’s artistic skills. (Which are virtually non-existent in the manner of most 2.5 year olds, fyi.) Anyhow, when we got to this picture, I knew I had to share it with you.

Tell me, internets, WTF is this about?

Potty Training Fears

Maddie’s ready to use the potty all the time like a Big Girl and she’s ready to wear Big Girl Underpants all the time.

However, mama is totally not ready for these things.

I understand diapers. I don’t mind changing them or buying them. I’m confident that I can handle diaper changes when Maddie and I are out and about on our own. I’m comfortable and familiar with diapers. Potties? Not so much.

I’m scared to change. I’m scared of accidents in public and frantic searches for bathrooms when the need is urgent. I’m scared because it’s unknown.

I’m considering jumping in with both feet this weekend and going balls-to-the-wall-full-on with the pottying. Ditching diapers and pull-ups (during the day only) and breaking out the Elmo underpants that have been in Maddie’s drawer for months.

If you leave me encouraging comments, I will totally swoon over them, I promise. Or, just send me patient, calm vibes this weekend, k?

Now with 20% more FAIL!

My husband just told me that I’m failing all kinds of fails in regard to posting regularly. In fact, I’m a string of fails not unlike a fail necklace. I’m made of fail with a rich and creamy fail nougat. He’s nothing if not supportive.

*sigh*

Anyhow, I’ve been being beaten down by The Man as per my usual rants re: The Workplace. That’s soon to come to an end, thank you 8 pound 5 ounce baby jesus. More to come on that once The Man is officially The Ex.

Coming Soon:
one year post-op extravaganza
summer plans including BlogHer, visits to Nana and Papa and surgeries
recent reads
potty training

Independant

Like most native-born Americans, I take freedom for granted. I’ve never known a life lived behind the veil of a burqa, nor have I seen a friend or loved one stoned to death for dishonoring her family.  I don’t have to perform brutal and horrific acts on my daughter so that she’s acceptable to society. I had the chance to go to school and even pursue higher education. I can choose to work outside my home or stay home with my child. I even got to choose the man I married and whether or not I wanted to have a child with him.

I know that I was born here by luck of the draw. I could have very easily been born in a place that doesn’t know the meaning of the word “freedom.” However, I know that the freedoms I have did not happen because of luck. Brave men and women had to fight, shed blood and even die for me to live the way that I do. I also know that we have a long way to go before every man, woman and child in America is truly granted the same rights and freedom, but we’re way the hell ahead of the rest of the world. I am so very grateful to those who fought in the past and those that will choose to fight in the future.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.