Archive for BlogHer

No Shoes Were Hurt In The Making Of This Post

There are strange things happening to my blog lately. A few people have mentioned it but others said it looks fine. A warning message keeps popping up so this post will be short. I hope I don’t break my blog by posting!

I’m over at BlogHer again today with a new Beauty Hacks post. You should read it. These shoes are featured in it.

saucy-shoes2

Or you can wipe the drool off your keyboard and send me Thank You chocolates. Either way. Your call.

Pssst! Have you heard of this wonderful fashion website Madras641? I think I’m in love.

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BackTalk & BlogHer

A few newsy items today:

The Smart Television Alliance asked how I would improve television for children. Here’s my answer.

Neil at Citizen of the Month has a blog crush on me. This one time he called me brainy and gorgeous so I’m inclined to give him a big, juicy thank you kiss right here in front of everyone. The best part, though, is that he sends a voicemail along with his putting it on his blog. What I’ve learned is that when you get it and it goes straight to junk mail you shouldn’t be wimpy and wonder if it’s spam. As Neil replied to me this morning, “Don’t be a wimp. Open it.

I have a few crushes myself these days. For music, it’s Irish-born Laura Izibor. For comedy, it’s Elna Baker. If you have the time you should listen to her “Babies Buying Babies” which is what made me first adore her when I heard it on This American Life where my other crush tends to hang out.

Here’s the REAL news, though. I’m working with BlogHer on a new video series called BackTalk! (I don’t know if there will be an exclamation point in the name of the series. That was for the dramatic effect on my end.)

Erin from Queen of Spain, Lindsay from Suburban Turmoil, and Chris from Notes From the Trenches are all going to be showing you why THEY should be on camera and I should be kept far away from it. (I blink a lot. Did you know this? I believe I have mentioned it once or twice before.) It’s kind of a great gig and I’m so happy to be working on this but the best part of it is that it’s not a show that just talks at you, it invites you to become a real part of the conversation. YOU can upload stories, anecdotes, fart jokes whatever you’d like to contribute.

The first episode airs tomorrow. Look for my blinking. I mean, sure, I’ll be talking and getting in on the blather. Don’t let the blinking scare you.

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I’m About To Stir The Pot

Once upon a time I was a little known blogger with my own little spot that was, well, all mine. I liked it that way. There wasn’t a lot of fuss or hoopla over what I was doing here. Some days there still aren’t. Then I got interested in things and learned and learned and processed and processed and made it all fit in my brain and here’s what I came up with:

Trying to start a blog JUST to be popular is the most hideous side of wanting to write.

Selling out and doing things JUST to get traffic is sad and pathetic.

Searching for sponsors and vendors and marketers JUST to get free stuff is reaching out for the lowest common denominator.

Shame on you if you’re doing any of that. Write because you love words and thoughts and can’t wait to get them down to savor your feelings and relish the language with which you get to do so. Do giveaways because you truly stand behind a product and want others to enjoy something you’ve discovered. Accept offers to do reviews because you want to know what a product is like and then be honest about what you’ve learned. And for the love of all that is holy and shiny STOP with all that branding crap you keep trying to create on your blogs. Be original and if you can’t? Then reassess your motivation. If it doesn’t come naturally, DON’T DO IT. When you work that hard at it then it loses it’s naturally yummy goodness and I don’t want to read you anymore.

There are plenty of controversial things I’ve written about in the past. What kind of writer would I be to expect that everyone agrees with me? I don’t allow nasty comments to be thrown about here and the last time some dolt called me a ‘bitch’ on my site was during the presidential election campaign and, ahem, might I remind you once again who got to place their hand on the Lincoln bible and become the 44th president? No. I won’t do that. I have more class than that.

My friends ask me, “Why do you DO that blog thing? What do you GET out of it besides the occasional free thing to review and write about?”

I write. I say. I write and I like to write and I get enormous pleasure out of writing and when there are comments to add to the discussion then I learn from others and it gets to be like a big old love fest up in here!

Sometimes they get it. But honestly? My closest friends don’t “read” me. They get me in person and when Kelly 2.0 is the option as opposed to Kelly 3-D? Well, I’m a party in a box in real life. There is lots of movement and squishy hugs and raucous laughter. 

That was all a preface to the fact that Heather, Karen and I have proposed a Room of Your Own for BlogHer and the funny thing here is that now there are folks who’d like to see this as an entire Track or Panel and I have to say that I agree. Why aren’t women of color being pursued even after all this time as influential women in the blogosphere? Doesn’t anyone want to finally include us even as the First Lady is being courted as an icon in her own right? Are there any smart, savvy companies out there who would like to sponsor this event or should we just sit in the back of the bus and be quiet about it?

Holla at your girl.

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Keep Going. It Helps.

During the panel on which I spoke as a speaker (as opposed to “spoke as a presenter” or “spoke as a high-class hooker”) there were moments when I questioned myself with the same thought that came through my head when I was asked to speak in the first place: Why am I up here and why does what I say matter? It happened, I suppose, because being a woman and raising a daughter today means a whole different thing than when I was a girl. Some of the images women are presented with, and hopefully reject, are simply more in sheer number than when I was young.

After speaking on a panel so many women came up to introduce themselves or shake hands or ask more questions and there were touching comments and thoughtful reiterations of our discussion. One woman approached me and said that she didn’t have a blog but loved to read them. Her comment was this:

How do you find what you need to have in order to be happy with your body and your looks? Because you can do it easily; you’re tall and attractive and it’s easy for you.

After I gasped from the underhanded compliment, I answered her this way:

I wasn’t always happy with my body. Or my looks, for that matter. You’d never guess the weight I actually am because I hid it with my height and you’d never know that I have several cavities in my mouth because I’ve learned that when someone tells you have a nice smile you simply thank them and accept it. Don’t give away all your ugly secrets. Tracee had already mentioned how women tell their daughters how beautiful they are and in the next breath use self-deprecatory speech which sends a mixed message to them. There’s no magic pill I can give you. But it takes practice.

After we hugged and shed a few tears, I realized that women don’t know how to do this. We can blame media all we want, but we have to continue to redefine the images of beauty.

I’m going to declare big calf muscles in my legs as strong AND sexy.

I’m going to figure out a way to accentuate my naturally curly (not kinky, I hate that word) hair.

I’m going to go ahead and buy that dress I like because it makes my curves stand out and I’M OK WITH THAT.

These are all things I have said to myself. Confidence building takes time. Parenting while you’re doing that takes effort on top of that. But it can be done. Trust me, there are days when I feel like a slimy troll, but I don’t announce that to the world. The ugly days I keep to myself and that isn’t just about body image, that’s about my feelings and my mood. You can’t just puke it out for the world to see and expect people to wonder where you get your flare and good attitude. People pick up what you’re laying down.

One of the other things I mentioned was about being a tall woman. Even though I have mentioned that before I found no less than 10 people who make mention of it when they meet me in person. Does that bother me? Hell no. In junior high I hated it. Especially flu and cold season during dances when every short boy came up to my chest and it was striped with snot after slow dancing. But now? I love it and have come to appreciate it as an added bonus in how I walk into a room.

Some women are intimidated by that and, while I am cognizant of those insecurities, they are no longer my problem. Do you know that every woman who stopped me to introduce herself at BlogHer was instantly crushed in a hug from me? I know that it’s difficult to walk up to a stranger (even though that gene is missing from my own DNA, but that’s from Middle Child Syndrome) but do it! You probably won’t be disappointed! If you are, back away slowly and don’t lose eye contact. You know, like when you’re faced with a rabid dog.

My proudest moment from the entire weekend in San Francisco came when my daughter spoke at the end of that session. Here is a snippet of what she said:

As someone who just came out of my graduation from college, and the end of my parenting: at the end of the day, no matter what they said to me, it was my choice. I was one of those A&F kids. I was multiracial and I could pass. But I appreciate that Mom never bought me those clothes; if I wanted them, I had to buy them myself. I remember thinking “I’m really uncomfortable in these size zero pants.” As much parenting as she did, there was some blockage that I put up. It really does start at good parenting, but when it was my choice, and I could make those decisions about the clothes, that’s when it really turned me on. So keep going; it helps.

She’s a wise one, that daughter of mine. Keep going. It helps.

Laurie has the entire conversation live-blogged here. I wrote something for her site a few weeks ago and that can be found here.

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A Poor BlogHer Zeitgeist

*alternate titles*

“See How I’m Avoiding BlogHer Redux?”

and

“Climbing Back On The Planet After BlogHer”

No less than five times today I sat at my wonky computer and tried writing. Because the mouse pad is broken I didn’t even take it to San Francisco with me. She’s let me down so much that I refuse to name her. I miss my former delicious laptop, Jayne, something fierce. It’s time for me to break down and purchase a new Apple and my eyes have been on the MacBook Pro for a while.

Did you hear what I just said? I DIDN’T TAKE A COMPUTER TO A BLOGGING CONFERENCE.

Sometimes my Crazy just jumps right out for the world to behold.

But, hey! Check it! I made it in the newspaper. That was fun.

So was meeting the editor of Redbook and having her crush on me. Score!

My mother has enjoyed looking through my pictures of BlogHer, but she is insanely jealous that she didn’t get to go with us. Say something nice about her in the comments if you would.

I was talking to her about the unbelievable amount of compliments I got last week and what a freakin’ high that is because I’ve been so down in the dumps that it was nice to feel appreciated either for my clothes or my brain or my hair (which Her Bad Mother petted and I let her because gaaahhhh). Let me plainly state here, however, that I am most happy with the ones that sound like this:

“You’re your own woman and you say what you want and you kick ass.”

Well, ok! I’m going to NOT be like women tend to be and I’m going to accept that compliment and say THANK YOU, DELICIOUS PEOPLE. It’s been a long journey of figuring out who I am and who I’m not and saying what you want and learning constantly is where I want to be. Again, thank you.

When I get a compliment I normally ask people if they’d like a pony. I was telling my mother this while we discussed post-BlogHer feelings and my nephew said something sweet to me about getting ice cream for everyone after dinner.

“Oh, sweetie. Do you want a pony?”

He laughs and tells me something to the effect of You so crazy, but my mom pipes up her wants.

“Oh, hell. I want a stallion.”

Don’t we all, mom? Don’t we all?

more BlogHer thoughts to come…

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