I remember when we blogged because we loved it, before branding, before ads.
I remember the first time someone linked to me and I was shocked.
I remember when we wrote things because we wanted to, not because it would get a stumble or dig.
I remember when I’d be so shocked to get a comment, not shocked when I didn’t.
I remember when Dooce was just a girl who couldn’t spell Dude.
I remember when the community was still small enough you could actually read all your favorite blogs every day.
I remember when I had to password... Read more
I’m not ready to write some more memoirs exactly yet. I have them, tucked away nicely in my photo box of memories with words spilling off the pages waiting to be published.
I just can’t.
It seems we’re in some state of crisis in our house. Maybe “crisis” is too extreme a word. “Recession?” “Depression?”
Chaos? Uncertainty? Stress?
All the above?
I’m frustrated the “state of the economy” is throwing my daily life in to some sort of tailspin.
I never... Read more
As a little girl, I wanted to be a famous ballerina. All little girls want to be famous ballerinas. We dance and twirl and pretend we’re beautiful and light as a swan.
Then we grow up.
We graduate college with a single task in mind: Make a living.
Maybe we add on there to “Have a house! Get married! Make babies!” and then we happen to meet someone who has the same dreams and you work together to make them come... Read more
Growing up in south Houston, we had manicured lawns and sidewalks connecting each house. Most evenings the kids would ride our bikes (or hot wheels) up and down the sidewalk and in and out of the driveways while the parents stood and laughed, talked, and drank tea. I remember coming home from a friend’s house one night and seeing the parents out talking without my mom. “Mom!” I yelled breathless as I came in the house, “Mom! You gotta go outside and talk. Lindsey’s mom and Paul’s Mom and Beth’s Mom are all out there!” Then I’d grab my... Read more
This is going to sound a little .. new-agy? Like we’re strung out on acid wearing tie-die with seven inch sunglasses on? Or like we’ve totally gone over the deep end.( Which is very possible.)
Today’s Sunday Reflection is on Harmony and why we’re struggling to keep it.
The mister and I talk about the piece of string that holds us all together, this tether, in our family. Each of us pulled and tugged and influenced by the emotions of each other. When one person is off, we’re all a little off. There is no self in the continuum that is our family.... Read more
I just went back up to my daughter’s... Read more
I promised to write about some past religious experience each Sunday to reflect on a part of my life that a) was a huge influence in why I didn’t get pregnant before I was 28 and b) helped mold me in to the kind and gentle hearted non-sarcastic woman that I am now.
Well, A, anyway.
I’ve been athletic my entire life. I started with ballet at 4, moved in to gymnastics, dance, track, and cross country. I did crew, mountain biking, hiking and kayaking in college. I never really stopped to consider being fat. I wasn’t ever the thin girl, but I was athletic. Muscular. At worst: “thick”.
I was raised Catholic. This pretty much means I went to church every Sunday (or Saturday night, which was shorter and thus preferable) and left shortly after Communion because THAT was the part God wanted us to attend. Communion.
A little girl’s first Holy Communion is a little sacred. Not because you’re entering a more “mature” faith in the Catholic eyes, but because you get to wear a white bride dress. I never did know WHY I got to wear the bride-dress but I did count down the days until I dawned my white veil and pretty dress and looked holy as Mary and... Read more