Chasing Dreams With Fishing Nets

Date: 2010.08.26 | Category: Uncategorized | Response: 4

I know I’ve already said it but this summer has been one of change. Change begets more change. I can’t help but feel that things are in motion, that there are more changes to come.

Some are beyond my control but other changes, those I can make myself… if I could only decide what the changes should be.

I’m not a person with a five point plan. I don’t strategize or plot. I tend to be a bit of a floater, taking what life throws at me and either rolling with it or thrashing against it. I don’t have big dreams or goals.

I often think that this is a failing.

It makes me feel more lost than I think the people around me are. I don’t know what I’m going to be doing in five years. (I hate that question in interviews. Any answer anyone gives you is total b.s.) I don’t know what I WANT to be doing in five years.

I undervalue my skills and knowledge and when I’m not doing that I feel like I should be doing something with them. What? Oh, that is the question right there.

Right now my head is so messed up from all the changes that have happened that I don’t know if the things I’m doing are really what I want to be doing or if the things that I’m thinking of doing are really things I want to do. Yet I feel the need to movement — to do something, anything, differently than I am right now.

I’m chasing dreams with fishing nets and I have no idea what I want to catch.

*Rain Delays – Crash Parallel

Change

Date: 2010.08.23 | Category: Uncategorized | Response: 2

This summer has been one of change. I moved. People died. Things are changing faster than I can keep up with them.

I feel the need to DO something. To chop off my hair. To paint a room. To knock down a wall.

I know it’s a reaction to the lack of control over many of the changes, but of the losses in particular. I want a change that I can control.

But if I chop off my hair I’ll hate it within days. If we knock down a wall now it’ll take too long to really finish and it will stare at me, a reminder of the changes I cannot control.

So I’ll watch movies. I’ll read books. I’ll pamper myself. I’ll not make any major changes for a few months.

But I’d really appreciate it if this summer stopped kicking me in the nads.

Exhale

Date: 2010.08.20 | Category: sometimes I ramble | Response: 4

This summer has been exhausting. It’s been rough. I’ve let things slide a bit because the weight of them on my shoulders was crushing me.

When I was at BlogHer I asked Honeybeast if I needed to grovel for being just a lackadaisical writer this summer. She looked and me and said, “Everything happened to you this summer. Don’t worry about it.” I was talking to a friend the other night who said, almost word for word, the exact same thing.

Wanna see my summer?

June 2 – 10 Emergency trip to PEI after my grandmother had another stroke. Sat vigil and then stayed for the funeral.

June 17 Spend the day in the ER thinking I had appendicitis (so did the doctor) and almost passing out on the nurses until they confined me to a stretcher for four hours. Still have appendix. Am medical mystery. Or had undetected ovarian cyst that burst. Whatever it was it hurt like a mofo and I discovered I’m not particularly fond of morphine. Another discovering is that when your lips turn blue and your feet and hands tingle nurses will literally run to attend to you. (I had great nurses.)

June 25 – July 3 PEI for vacation. Had been planned for months before my grandmother passed away. It rained a lot. It was an mix of busy, busy, busy and relaxing.

July 14 Take possession of our house. Sleep on the floor (well, air mattress) for about 9 days. Start getting hardwood floors installed July 19. Floors finished on the 21.

July 23 Official move in day. Yay for movers. Time to unpack. And organize. Change work schedule.

August 3 – August 9 New York City for BlogHer ’10 and general site-seeing.

I was exhausted going into BlogHer ’10. The last day of the conference I was tired. Very, very tired. More tired than I let on and feeling that lost feeling you get when you are really tired.

When I got home I jumped into a bit of extra work and worked through last weekend.

This is my first weekend “off” where we’re not packing, unpacking, travelling, moving, or SOMETHING in well, months.

I’m going to read. I’m going to sit in the sun. I’m going to eat real food. I’m going to go for a walk in the woods.

I’m going to exhale after holding my breath all summer.

Adjusting My Expectations

Date: 2010.08.13 | Category: Uncategorized | Response: 5

Push. Push. Push. Pant. Pant. Pant.

So tired. Keep pushing. Keep pushing.

Taste the bile in your mouth. Feel light-headed.

Collapse on well-placed bench and wonder what the heck you got yourself into.

That was my first day running on the C25k plan.

I tried to run too hard and too fast. My stride was too long. I had to adjust my expectations. I pulled myself up off the bench after 3 minutes, walked another 3 minutes and then started to slowly jog (not run, job). I shorted my stride. I slowed down.

I adjusted my expectations of what I could do, of what I felt I should be able to do.

I try to do too much too fast in so many areas of my life. I get disappointed and I let things fall to the side and frequently forget to pick them back up. “I can’t do it. I’m not good enough.”

Running is a reminder to adjust my expectations of myself. I can do more (we’re back to that again) but I need to build slowly. I don’t need to barge in like a tornado. I need to go slow, to pace myself and find my stride. Maybe it won’t feel comfortable at first but it’ll improve.

I did my second run today. I kept my pace slow and my stride shorter. I ran every run.

I Can’t Believe I Said That

Date: 2010.08.12 | Category: Blogs | Response: 6

The words came out. I heard them and could not believe it. I wanted to shove them back in my mouth and I couldn’t. They were out there. I mentally cringed, at least I hope I only did it mentally as I was just finishing introducing myself to someone. Thankfully they did not pick up on what I has said.

“My other blog is just a personal blog.”

I wanted to kick my own ass.

You see, I had proposed a topic for BlogHer this year. It didn’t get selected (which is fine) but it was, “It’s not ‘just’ a personal blog.” I wanted us to own our words and our blogs. (Something, by the way, that the Loving Your Small Blog session did very well.)

I believe in personal blogs. I believe that sharing our stories, whether we be a mother or a crafter or a reader or all of those things or none of those things, is important. It’s really important. When you say that you “just” have a personal blog I will correct you and tell you that you have a personal blog. I’m the person, who when a sponsor survey wanted to fit me into a niche created my own box called “Life” and checked it. (Really, I did. I have witnesses.)

I want, some day, to be able to look back on my online writing and know what I did. I want to know that a day sucked or that I had the best day ever. I want to know what my thoughts were on big ideas…and little ones. I want to be able to look back on my life and know that I shared it.

I want to read about your life. I want to know what you think about things. I want to know what you did and how you felt.

Personal blogs are about connections and sharing your life. That’s important. It’s powerful. It’s something women didn’t do publicly for a long time.

When I dismissed my blog I dismissed myself and my life. I dismissed the things that are important to me. Worse, I dismissed your work. I labeled it as unimportant. I’m sorry for that.

I don’t “just” have a personal blog and neither do you.

Apparently I need to remind myself that.

The Scariest Thing I Did At BlogHer’10

Date: 2010.08.11 | Category: Things I Don't Understand, Things that are made of awesome | Response: 13

I did the scariest thing I’ve done in years at BlogHer’10. I signed up to run (yes, emphasis on the run) in Ottawa’s 5km Run for the Cure. It’s Laurie Kingston’s fault. She posted on Twitter and Facebook and then posted an open letter on her blog asking if anyone would be up for running on a team called “No Pink For Profit.” Laurie would have to put it in a way that leaves me no choice but to say yes.

Some of you may think that this is not a BlogHer post, but it is. Without BlogHer I would not know Laurie. We would not be friends.

A few years ago (2006 I think) I started noticing someone commenting on my posts at BlogHer. Usually the Canadian posts but sometimes book posts as well. I commented back and eventually started following their blog. It was Laurie and her blog Not Just About Cancer. Thanks to BlogHer and our blogs, and eventually Twitter and Facebook, Laurie and I became online friends. I remember the day that she posted that her cancer had returned. I cursed and threw something at the wall. I was pissed. I was mad. I was scared. And at that point I hadn’t even met her.

A few years later I ended up moving to the same city she lives in and we became friends live and in person. We meet up as often as our schedules allow and sit in a pub, drink pints, knit and get caught up on our lives. You know, the parts that don’t make it onto the Internet.

As I got to know Laurie better I became increasingly aware of how much pink for profit campaigning there is every year. I was aware of it before I knew her. I remember being particularly disgusted by a promotion where if you spent $$$ on a new mattress you’d get a special! limited edition! pink sheep! Of course, a portion of the profits made go to breast cancer research. I was cynical and avoided them, preferring to give my money to actual charities.

I became increasing aware of how wide-spread it was thanks to posts like Suzanne Reisman’s, “Pink Ribbon Madness: Say No To Breast Cancer Exploitation for Corporate Profit.” Yes, buy a can of soup that we’ve slapped a pink ribbon on and we’ll all be saved. (Oh and yes we’ll make money if you buy a lot of them but shhhh let’s not talk about that.) I knew that these campaigns often hurt breast cancer survivors but it became more than that — they were hurting my friend. Now I wouldn’t just avoid these pink for profit, I’d swear when I saw them. I’ve been known to rant occasionally. (Shocking, I realize.)

So yes, when Laurie asked if anyone would sign up for her No Pink for Profit team I couldn’t say no. Money does need to be raised for more research, and I’ll run to do that. I’m thrilled with the subversiveness of the No Pink for Profit message that will be splayed across my t-shirt as I run to raise money for it.

And that is no small statement. I don’t exercise. I like to describe my coordination as that of a dead drunk sloth caught in a wind machine. (Description stolen and always cited to Joshilyn Jackson who said in a blog post once.) I trip over my own feet on the sidewalk. I am, quite simply, not an athlete.

But I am doing this. I am doing this because a friend asked me for help with something that is important to her. I am doing this because I am capable of it. I’m doing this because I’d like to live in a time when breast cancer is not something that can be used as a fear tactic to sell products for a profit.

I’m doing it because I can.

If you feel so inclined you can find out more about the No Pink for Profit team and make a donation on our team page. If you are in Ottawa I hope that you will come out and cheer for us on October 3.

More

Date: 2010.08.10 | Category: Things that are made of awesome | Response: 17

Everyone who goes to BlogHer has a different experience.  As someone said in a tweet that I can’t find at the moment, “BlogHer is what you make of it”. To some people it’s a very social experience, for others professional. I keep a toe in both. I had wonderful personal moments (like meeting my Chatter friends) but I spent a lot of time with my head in the professional. I didn’t walk away from BlogHer ’10 with a revelation. I walked away with confirmation of something I’ve been thinking about for a long time.

I can do more.

I need to do more.

I am one of those people who went to university and got a degree I love dearly but it really didn’t shuttle me into an instant job market. There just isn’t a large need for anthropologist historians, especially ones that focused on archaeology and underground resistance movements in WWII. (Yes, I realize those topics are not related but they were fascinating and fun to study.)

So I bumbled around. I turned a job at the university bookstore into a job creating course materials. I turned that job (with the help of a course or two) into a technical writing career. The technical writing turned into project management. Project management was an excellent experience to have but the company I was at stopped being the right fit for me and I simply burned out and quit. I didn’t know what to do. I needed some time to lick my wounds and figure out what I wanted to do, not just what would make me money. So I continued to blog and I found a few part-time jobs. I pick up the odd contract here and there.

But lately I’ve felt that I can do more. It is an odd combination of restlessness (I can do more) and being settled (buying a house makes me feel like I have a permanent base).

It’s a feeling that has been creeping up for months but it cemented at BlogHer ’10. Being around women — accomplished, funny, smart, wonderful women – who are doing more put it in perspective. (Even if they all do like to say that I’m twelve. People, I look younger than I am. I can’t help it.) Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I’d been able to start attending BlogHer before 2009. Would my drive have come back earlier? Because you, all of you, make me want to do more.

As I commented to someone, being there helped me realize that I know more than I often think I do. It made me remember that I’ve been doing some stuff  for a long time. I have a lot of thoughts stuffed into this head of mine and some of them are darned good thoughts. They need an outlet and I need to get them an outlet.

I also need to leave some baggage behind. I need to stop thinking that every opportunity is going to morph from something wonderful to being something twisted. That a few weeks of hard work isn’t going to turn into the kind of grind that literally had me sobbing in the shower (what can I say, I am occasionally a cliche). And I need to remember that even if it gets to that point I still picked myself up, dusted myself off and stepped back into the grind and did a darned good job. I need to present myself in a way that better reflects all that I’ve done in addition to all that I can do. My resume currently does not do that.

I’m capable of doing more than I am, but I’ve been missing the drive to do it. I’ve not been presenting myself in a way that displays all that I’m capable of doing.

The drive is back. I can do more. I will do more. I’ll need help and advice, but no one gets there alone. I need to ask for help. I need to work for that help. But I’m going to do it. I am.

Next year, at BlogHer ’11 I want you to come up and ask me if I did more. Because the answer is going to be, “Yes. Yes I did.” And if you want to do more I’ll do everything I can to help you, too.

So thank you BlogHer. Thank you for reminding me that not only do I want to do more but that I’m capable of it.

I lied

Date: 2010.08.01 | Category: Uncategorized | Response: 3

I said that I wasn’t buying anything new for BlogHer. I lied. I bought a pair of shoes. To be fair I’ve needed a brown pair of somewhat dressy shoes for awhile. I have a great pair of pumps but I simply cannot wear them all day. These shoes? I totally can which means I can pack one of the dresses that I love to wear and will be good in the air conditioning of the hotel. (I also bought another pair of totally dressy heels that I am probably not taking with me but I had to buy because they were the most comfortable heels ever and I couldn’t leave them there even though I feel totally guilty for having bought them because, hello! House!)

I also bought some jewelry (cheap, because that’s the way I roll) and a little bag that is just big enough to hold my iPhone (as if it will be out of my hand, hahaha), my ID and a bit of cash (or drink tickets).

Y’all will still have to live with my roots showing as I’m still not getting my hair done. I think you’ll survive.

Now if someone wants to come pack for me that’s be just dandy.

In bullet points

Date: 2010.07.29 | Category: Uncategorized | Response: 4

Because it’s the only way I’ll get anything written here:

• We moved! We own a house! We have new pretty floors upstairs. No I don’t have pictures. Yet. I will. Eventually.
• It’s been a heck of a summer and I kind of want to curl up in a ball and sleep for a month.
• But I can’t, because we are going to New York.
• For BlogHer’10! Yay BlogHer!
• I’ve never been to NYC better and neither has Lee.
• We are going early and staying after, thinking that we’d have all this time to play tourist. Reality? We have 2.5-3 days to play tourist. That suddenly seems like nothing.
• I keep reading posts about BlogHer prep. My BlogHer prep consists of unpacking my clothes and putting them in my new closet so that I can then pack them. If you are lucky I might iron things. You do not need to buy new clothes for BlogHer.
• In addition to not buying new clothes I am also not a. getting my hair done (I don’t have time, also spent the money on new business cards and stickers) b. freaking about what shoes to bring (much, I’m worried about bringing appropriately comfy shoes that won’t give me blisters when I’m playing tourist) c. getting a pedi/mani/whatever because I never do.
• Lee has a party pass. He is stupidly excited that one of the parties is the Cheeseburger Party. It’s exactly what you think it is but with more people wearing McDonald’s bags on their heads.
• We have no idea what we are going to see in NYC. We know we won’t be doing much shopping. We’ll see what we see and be fine with it just as long as one of those things is the Museum of Natural History (otherwise I shall have a fit).
• I ordered my stickers and business cards at the last minute. Business cards will make it in time. Stickers? Maybe. I’ve got a 50/50 chance at this point.
• I’m behind in pretty much everything and so freaked out about being behind in everything that I actually can’t get anything done. It’s a vicious cycle.
• I like bed. I’d like to be in bed right now.
• There is a maybe stray cat at our new place. We’re not sure if he (we think it’s a he) has a home or not. Seems to be well fed, only a little skittish and likes to hang out on our front porch and desk. He occasionally just appears out of the bushes. The fake cat does not approve and hissed at me to display her disapproval after she saw me petting the interloper.
• Every day should have built in nap-time. Or at least an hour or two where you can do nothing or watch tv or read a book without the weight of all the things you should be doing weighing down on you.
• I’m kind of freaked out that we have no idea what we are going to be doing in NYC when we are playing tourist. This is the most unplanned trip we’ve ever taken as a planned trip (ie. we didn’t just hop in the truck and decide to go somewhere).
• I should be working.

Mommies, Community and Me, the Non-Mommy

Date: 2010.07.12 | Category: Blogs, sometimes I ramble | Response: 19

A tweet passed through my stream a few months back that caught my attention. It was from a local blogger to a bunch of other local bloggers about how great it was to meet up with everyone. “Oh,” I wondered. “Did I miss an event?” Scrolling through I realized I did… and that I didn’t. There was a local meet-up but it was mommies, of which I’m not. “Oh,” I thought. “Oh, I wasn’t invited to hang out because I’m not a mommy.” Such is the life of a non-mommy.*

I know these women and I know that they didn’t exclude me intentionally. I know that they were a bunch of moms just getting together to hang out with their kids. I know that if I could ping them and say, “Hey guys, I know I don’t have kids or anything but I’d really like you hang out with you guys next time.” I know that they’d all say, “Absolutely!” I know they never gave a thought to excluding anyone, it was just a meet up of local moms. How could that be exclusionary, right? I know this but I won’t lie — the unintentional exclusion still stings a little.

I’m not a mother. I’m not, nor have I tried, to have children. Currently we’re still saying that we probably won’t have children, though we’re keeping a foot on that fence. At this point, my non-mommy status is by choice. (At least as far as we know. We’ve never tried to have children so we’re only assuming that we can.)

I’ve blogged about the fact that I’m child-free by choice. I’ve blogged about the fact that I’m really not great with children. I’ve also blogged that I don’t hate children and that I’m perfectly fine hanging out with women and their children (though preferably not at Chuck E. Cheese).

I’ve been the only non-mommy at events. I will watch your kids while you go the bathroom. I’ll keep an eye on your kids while they are running around the playground and if they fall while you are at the other end of the park I’ll go and check to see if they are ok. I’ll hold your baby while you are tending to another child.

I’m a non-mommy, not a child-hater. I’m not going to sit there and “preach” about the benefits of a childless life. No, I’m not going to tell you how you should raise your children. Yes, I will sometimes offer an opinion if it is something you’ve asked for an opinion on it or for which I have a strong opinion. (I’m pretty darn good with book recommendations for kids, for example.) If you mention something about parenting that you are looking for input on and I’ve read a blog post about it I may send you the link if you aren’t familiar with it. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life any more than I’ll let you how expound on how I should live mine.

I know that I can be a bit of a curiosity at times. I know that I am a non-mom who doesn’t want to be a mom and yet wants to hang out with moms and sometimes their children. What people sometimes don’t see is that I don’t necessarily want to hang out with moms; I want to hang out with women. I want to hang out with smart women who are interested in the same things that I do and happen to be active online. These women, and many of my mommyblogging friends, happen to be all those things. They also happen to be mommies. Does that mean we should exclude each other?

I’ve been told that I don’t have the same experiences as these women. I’ve been asked if there’s not a “better” community for me to join. I’m confused.

I’m confused because I’ve heard many of these women that I know and love (and who are not the ones asking me this) say that they aren’t just mommies. They are women. They don’t want to be defined solely by the label of “Mommy.” They don’t drop their friends that don’t have kids when they have theirs. Should I not want to be friends with them after they have children? I think if that were the case it would make me a pretty crappy human being.

I don’t want to be part of the mommyblogging community, exactly. I want to be part of community of women and mommy or not, we’re all women. Whether or not we have children is one part of our lives. Yes, a big part, but mommy or non-mommy is not all that we are. I have good friends that are moms. I have good friends that are not moms. I have good friends that would very much like to be mothers.

It’s a fact that cannot be ignored that most women my age either having children or want to have children. If I exclude everyone who fits those two categories from my life there would not be many people left.

I fail to see why I should not participate in the conversation on a mommyblog and if I participate why I should not consider myself a member of that community. I did, once upon a time, say that I wasn’t part of the mommyblogging community. Someone quickly corrected me. They reminded me that I support mommybloggers (which is easy as they are pretty awesome), that I participate on their blogs and that I am friends with them. Why wouldn’t I consider myself part of their community?

Why indeed. It’s not whether or not we have children that forges the connection between us. It’s who we are as people and women.

But maybe I’m wrong. Can a childfree women be part of a community of women that have children? Can a blogger without children be part of the mommyblogging community?

*Please note that this is not about these lovely, lovely women who I know would drag me along if I so much as hinted to a glimmer of a thought of not being included. This all comes from this conversation on BlogHer about non-mommies, mommyblogging, and community.