As usual, hotel coffee sucks. No matter what’s in my cuppa today, however, I am sipping a hot cuppa Pissed Off And Gonna React. Anyone care to join me?

*Edited: Cross posted at BlogHer. If you leave me some comments there I will tell Santa that you were good all this year even though you have a few months left to be naughty.

As I continue to digest the contents of the BlogHer 07 weekend I also continue to get a bit of indigestion gassiness on some issues that just irk me to no end. All that was to say that I don’t plan on playing nice for a moment.

I’ll play nice later.

The State of the Momosphere session is the one that I wanted to attend to simply ask some questions about Who Gets Contacted by marketing professionals (and I have, so please don’t think I’m complaining that I never have) and Why. In fact, when the moderator, Jory, was outlining the session she made the three points that would be discussed and asked if there were any other questions the audience would like addressed before they got started.

Only one hand went up in the air. Mine. I pointedly asked if we could please discuss the lack of racial diversity in the blogrolls and communities we find ourselves in as a general topic but if we could explore issues of moms of color.

Naturally, the conversation was engaging, but we kept getting to a point where the audience wanted to say things that had already been covered so that they could have their say. And they kept on saying it and saying it over and over until I was prodded by a certain someone to just SPEAK MY MIND ALREADY.

Again. The Hand. It went up. As the microphone was being passed to me some gentlemen marketers were commenting on the fact that they pursue mothers who blog about products and that one of them even apologized on behalf of corporate America (Corporate America? You’re not forgiven. You’re ON MY LIST.) and another one said that the best way to contact these mothers is to establish a relationship with them so that they know you care.

Great. A segue.

The Hand.

My question, then, was directed at those two marketing professionals and I asked when they would tap into the mothers of color and bring us into the fold because they are leaving us out of the loop. When will the diversity come into play?

And the question? With The Hand? It died a sad death right there. We got back to the monetization of blogs and I got a little excited when Stefania chimed in that diversity does indeed need to include moms of color because she has concerns about Asians being marginalized as well.

Then, that died, too, as we went directly onto a privacy issue.

And I shook my head. And I pursed my lips. And I was disappointed and let down that the one question that was given to the moderator was ignored.

Certainly, I am grateful to the dozens of people I spoke to after the session was over. There was a full 20 minutes of chatting with people who agreed with my comment and told me to press on and to keep fighting for women of color. I needed something else instead. I needed any of them to take the microphone and say, “Excuse me. Isn’t anyone going to answer Kelly’s question?”

Where were you, Mommybloggers? I needed you.

Listen. There are hundreds of women descending on the city of my birth and youth in a few days. If you would, please, I am looking for this other Chicagoan. He sings my current favorite song which I’ll be playing ad nauseam on my jaunty drive to The City. Mostly I refer to him as My Boyfriend, Common. You can keep that other trash to yourselves if you want, but no matter because he’ll be hanging out in the suburban malls trolling for teens anyway.

But this one? Tackle him or put on a Body Bind Curse or use some Jedi Mind Trick to detain him until I arrive.

Put the coffee cup sign in the air when it happens a la Batman, mmkaythanks?

It’s rather warm here around these parts so it’s either iced coffee or tea because I can cool off the tea quicky with some ice. Today, it’s hot. (The tea. The temperature hasn’t gone up too much yet.) Lipton’s Bavarian Wild Berry tea is very good, but don’t steep it too long because it’s made with real pieces of fruit (the box said so!) and will be slightly bitter. Also, the bags are adorable little pyramids. Who can resist that?

Sure, I quit writing a few months back and then I came out of hiding but now? Well, as I told LeahPeah recently, I did indeed grow me some balls. She said they look lovely on me, too.

But the comments and emails have increased, thus the need to write some more. Also, some promises were made. So there you have it.

The job first, though. I gave up the School Improvement Coach position because there was a lot of shifting in the school district and when the high school supervisory dean came open I was going to leave it alone. But then I got phone calls and emails of “Hey, what do you think of applying for this?” and I could no longer resist the urge.

Sure. I can do that job. I now have the qualifications of that degree.

Lo, and behold. (No, that’s just it. Lo, and behold. Nothing else necessary.)

The wonderful part is that it’s at the high school where my former middle school position of literacy coach was a feeder school so these are My Kids. All of them, even the ones who say goodbye to me by dropping the F-bomb. That’s a good thing and I know it because karma is a fabulous thing.

Still, I was going to write online “intermittently” and I can see how that’s going to go over well. Dang, there are just so many amazing new writers I’ve found while doing BlogMe ‘07. Dang. Dang. Dang.

[Note to self: you are doing a good job of trying to stop with the swearing. You may continue to use all manner of naughty words in real life. Continue.]

The new job has proved to be controversial since I got a verbal spanking last week from two former district people (Hey, I love to piss off former superintendants and directors of HR. Really. It’s a gift, people.) about “taking a job and then leaving said job before actually DOING SAID JOB“. Everyone in the room knew they were talking about me, even the shy lady next to me who said, “Hmm. I think this whole lecture is about you.” to which I replied, “Yeah, do you hear that sound? That’s the sound of me squealing from this public flogging. Jesus, can you help a sista out?”

So, as time permits I will write. And I will show my enormous feet with some kick ass really nice shoes.

Then, I will do some more product reviews (wait until you see what I have for you NEXT because I’m getting some awesome stuff that I can’t wait to tell you about and some of it includes intimate products and some of it is coffee-related and some of it has to do with hair and YOU KNOW OF MY ISSUES WITH HAIR.)

For a while, then, I’m back. Look! There are three whole posts on this page. That’s how much I missed you.

But wait. There’s more. I am verbose today and probably should have said that at the beginning of this post so if you’re still with me, give me a little “I’m still here!” and do a booty-shaking dance for me, please.

As I get back to Harry Potter or He Who Is Taking Over My Life Right Now Because I’m Trying To Savor The Last Book I am reminded of how my mother abhors when I used to read the end of a book first. Obviously, I’m a grown up and don’t do that anymore, but my mother isn’t going to read it so she picked up the second copy (we always get two, no arguements that way), read the last two chapters and made a declaration.

Mom (in a sing-song voice): I know what happens. I know what happens.

Childish, I know. Who is the adult here?

Me: Mo-ther! I clearly recall that you used to yell at me for doing that. You said it was NOT the way to read a book and here you are doing it!

Mom: That’s because I wasn’t going to read it anyway. I just wanted to know. And now I do.

Me (incredulously) : Umm, do you not recall that time when I was in college and you mailed me a book WITH THE LAST CHAPTER RIPPED OUT OF IT TO BE MAILED TO ME AT A LATER DATE?

Mom: I’ve amended my earlier position.

It runs in the family so I come by Position Amending honestly.