LaurieWrites

This is stupid long and no one has to read it

How is everyone? 

I appear to be writing here again, an event I blame solely on last week's super moon, because I've been overrun with thoughts and the desire to type them out ever since.

I've launched back in with the usual love letters to my people and random other things, but I feel like I should say something more specific about what's going on with me lately.

"But I don't give a damn what you've been up to," you say. 

Fair enough, but bringing things into chronological order is just another of my compulsions. I'm on Twitter so much the virtual world is choking on my words, but that's different.

Let's see. Let's take this back to last fall, shall we? That's where I want to go. 

I went to Ojai for Creative Alliance, courtesy of Lee Vandeman and a team of awesome women who led me to a California canyon, one of the most truly beautiful places I've ever been.

We were filled up with good food and laughter and talk of creativity and business and late night readings of McSweeney's comedy that still make me cry. I got to stay in the coolest m/hotel, I got to see a part of California I hope that I can go back to so soon, and I made some friends I know that I never would have met otherwise. Everyone is listed here, so I don't forget anyone. (I love you, Ann, Jess and Kristen. You're everything good.) Plus I got to spend time with Deb and Sue and that is always so good for me. We spent a fun day at the end wandering Ojai then up Ventura Highway (in the suuuuuun-shiiiiiiiine) to see Sue's town and then on to visit Erin and her family before I went home. It was such a great trip, and I'm so glad I went. Ask me about the yurt sometime.

Hey, remember when I got that big ass sandwich last summer?

 Oh my God. I already told you about that a long time ago, but I was just going back through Sarah's pictures to try to find a shot or two of us in Asheville in September because I LOST MY MEMORY CARD ON THE WAY HOME from that trip, and I count on her to back me up in these tragic situations. And of course this is what I come across. 

I just realized I have some horn action going on there. The rock never stops, stupid sandwich or no. You want to get with this. Anyway, moving on.

This is the Biltmore, in Asheville. Sarah took this too. I loved my shots of that staircase so much that I can't really think about them or I get sad. Oh well. Also it's a good thing that I trust her not to push me down stairs. 

The Biltmore people were very nice and took us on a tour of which I have no photographs and let us sample sparkling wine that I tried to con the man into giving me more of but he wasn't down and there were gargoyles and that was that. Let's pretend that every shot I took on that whole trip sucked, because they're gone, okay? Thanks! 

Asheville is a great town with good restaurants and lots to see, so we had fun. I got to drink habanero margaritas (reminding myself to try to make them at home) with Laurie and Deb and Penny and other various blog friends. We drove by a huge guitar and a NASCAR track in Tennessee, and through relatively terrifying foggy mountain passes very early in the morning, and got to do the talky thing we do so terrifyingly well, which is always nice. A friend you can be trapped in a car for hours with and not get sick of...at all, ever? Dude. I strongly recommend acquiring this. We spent an excellent afternoon at the end of the trip in a brew pub with good beer and approximately 17 televisions with football games visible from every angle, something I know ranked as a highlight for at least one person in my party. 

The holidays were...eh. I deal worse with winter coming on every year. I hate hate hate cold weather, and last year's ridiculous snow totals in our underprepared area left me with some kind of strange winter PTSD and I apparently mentally resisted it coming back again as hard as I possibly could. I was supposed to move in November and then that fell apart due to sad circumstances beyond my control, and for the rest of 2010 I thought too much about how I was going to turn 40 in December.

I'm listening to this right now, by the way. You don't wish you were me at all, but just know that I rock exceedingly hard. 

We went to Pittsburgh on New Year's Day to watch the Caps play the Penguins in the Winter Classic. It was a quick, awesome trip and we had fun just being there, although I have to admit that the Caps win was a huge bonus. I love my hockey, oh do I love my hockey, and someone may have to wheel me into wherever they're playing when I'm old to see them finally win a Cup, but this was a nice second to that. We stayed with Kim, who is one of the greatest people I know, and was the reason we were able to get into the game in the first place. She is also very gracious when her team loses, and such a good friend in all ways having nothing to do with sports. She is also writing more, and you should read her blog. She's been saying since I met her that she's not a writer. I always knew it was bs, because anyone with that many stories and her prodigious brain has the ability, and I'm proud of her for committing to the practice. It sucks a lot of the time but when it brings joy it's among the realest out there, and...yeah. I can go on about that for a long time. 

We were also able to get in a little bit of time with Kelly and Andrea, which was so nice, in a pub with a bunch of soccer games on Sunday morning television. I like Pittsburgh. I could get used to it. 

We were kind of happy about the whole thing. 

We are so silly but whatever. Oh! We also went to a women's hockey event at the Capitals' practice facility in November, and I met Peter Bondra and he guided me through shooting a goal. Bondra is such a highlight of Caps hockey and this was truly a fun life highlight for me. Plus he's genuinely nice. And cute. This is our Christmas card. 

As you can tell from the relative absence of my eyes in that photo, I'd gained a lot of weight. By the time I turned 40 on December 27, I was at the highest weight I'd hit since college. I spent the week of Christmas and my birthday pouring Bailey's in my coffee and eating food I don't allow myself to have most of the time. I spent a wonderful actual birthday with my family and friends, and my sister gave me the sweetest book  full of words and photos from my friends from all over. It made me cry two pages in and was such a highlight of my year and my life. She and Sarah both got me hockey jerseys, and in general I felt very loved and that was nice.

But I felt like hell and I knew I looked it. Right after I got back from Pittsburgh, I started a 40-day yoga challenge, a process that included daily yoga practice of some sort, meditation, and more attention to clean eating. "Clean eating" is one of those phrases that makes me want to punch myself in the face, but it's the best description I've got of what I'm trying to do. I limit processed stuff and I do not keep junk in my house, for the most part. If I ever stop drinking beer and wine that would probably help, but I'm not interested in that now.

The 40-Day program was intense and I really felt I should write about it while it was happening, but it was such a heavy thing I just couldn't. I went to the yoga studio near my house and office almost every day between the second week in January and the third week in February. I've tried yoga before, even keeping it up for months in other times of my life, but this particular process was life-altering.

The Thrive studio is owned by people who have good attitudes about people in general and what they can get out of practicing yoga. I was also ready to physically challenge myself even when I feel stupid or weak, which is often. But all I know is that after 30 years of consciously hating my body, this experience has allowed me to step off of my usual track of measuring exercise value strictly in minutes of hell on this machine or that at the gym. My body and mind came together in a way that seems to make me a better and also healthier person, I think. I can also do Wheel pose now, for like 30 seconds. 

I don't look like that when I do it, but you can pretend I do if it makes you feel better. I just did it fully for the first time on Saturday, in a class that also had me bracing my feet halfway up a wall while I stood on my hands. No really. I did that. I lifted this weight on my hands, with my legs up the wall BEHIND ME in an "L" shape. For real. Multiple times. And as much as I'm horrified at the thought of people who know me seeing me in this configuration, a part of me still wishes they could look at a picture of it long enough to know that it's definitely me, so they can be all WHAT THE HELL? 

And no, it isn't very yogi-like to stroll around saying I CAN DO WHEEL I DO WHEEL NOW AND STAND ON MY HANDS WITH MY LEGS BEHIND ME UP THE WALL, pretty much because as soon as you do that successfully you'll bust your ass in a simple down dog, karma being what it is. But I admit that it feels pretty good to be in my body in this powerful way. I also really like my studio. I can have a terrible day and without fail, by the time I get there and do a class and leave, my head is fixed for a little while. I wish it were practical to spend three hours there a day, every day.  

I also started running, with the plan to run the Broad Street Run in Philadelphia on May 1. This is a huge deal for me. I've never run anywhere except after a plane or from pain and scandal in my 40 years. I was terrified to try it, especially at the size I was in January, but I did it. I'm up to a max of four miles at a time now, and I'm hoping I can be in good enough shape to at least finish out the race without dying. I visited my friend Greg, who sells running shoes, and got new ones Saturday, which I understand will imbue me with the powers of flight, or my money back. My next step is to actually run outside now that Maryland is deciding it really doesn't want to be winter anymore, a process that always takes its adolescent self about three weeks. He claims he is going to come and run with me, and I'm hoping he's not lying. 

Running is hard, man. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to physically do, but somehow I keep doing it. I really need some new playlists, though. I'm so sick of mine. Please send me new music, but know that mine jump from Cinderella to Kid Rock to Pink, Kenny Chesney and Christopher Cross.

No, I'm not kidding.  No I, will never be the same without you here. 

Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I moved into a condo that I love. I really, really do. I have so much to do to get it fixed to the point where I'm really comfortable and it feels like home, but it's a good place for me to be, in an excellent location near a metro and the Beltway. I've had a little bit of trouble adjusting to the silence, but I'm relaxing into it and seeing where it takes me. 

What else did I miss? Elisa, who makes my world infinitely better, bought me a ticket to see Billie Joe Armstrong appear in American Idiot on Broadway, so I went to New York in a snowstorm to make that happen. This coincided with Renate, one of my best friends, moving there, so I drove up with her on that adventure. 

I could explain to you how I feel about Green Day, Elisa, New York and Renate, but that's its own post that should be written. It was amazing. Billie Joe is my boyfriend, we had an amazing time at the show, and on the moments when I realize that I'm a lucky girl, this is one of the experiences that makes that happen. 

Sarah and I went to Bon Jovi in February and had so much fun, I think.

This is what I'll remember forever from that night, and if they come back here, I'll make sure we go, because it was entirely fucking worth it for this.

I'll have us do this until we're old ladies. It's just how it should be. 

(I love my Sarah. You've got that, right? If you were me, with the experiences I've had and the way I came up through my life into now, you would too, I swear. You'd get it.)

I'm looking forward to spring so much. I'm going to New Orleans to do a photo workshop at the Mom2.0 conference in April, and I'll be so happy to see some of my good friends who live in the computer. The internet has been very good to me. Sometimes I can't even believe it. These people send me housewarming presents and look for me when I'm not around, so I like to go and visit them in person when I can. I can't wait to be back in the Quarter and show Sarah my favorite parts of Magazine and Rocky's house in the Garden District and and and...New Orleans is just, it's everything. It's my soul city. New York is my heart. New Orleans is my soul. New York is my soul. New Orleans is my heart. Interchangeable. 

My sister's wedding shower is in Philadelphia next weekend, and she gets married in June. I'm headed to BlogHer Food in Atlanta in May, and have a few other trips planned, some to places I've never been before. I think I see beaches in my future, too. Have I mentioned lately how much I like it when life warms up and we can all get outside again? 

I haven't been shooting enough, at all, and I hate that. I also have to get a website done for the photography and writing. There are lots of things I need to do. My only sources of sadness and upset are some things in my daily life and routine that only I can remedy, and I feel pretty sure that I can handle those too, this year. It's more difficult to figure that out than I was expecting, but I'm trying. 

It still makes me a little bit sad that I was in such a strange place on my birthday, and really didn't mark that time consciously in the way that I hoped to do. I'm not sure if it's a bullshit move to extend the celebration and do that now, or if that's something I have the license to do for the entire year. What do you think? If I throw myself a belated party, would people come? 

 

Micro This

Melanie asked and I am answering.

I have been a TypePad user since April, 2005 (which reminds me I should update my credit card information to my new one so they don't suspend my account, yeah.) I was a writer and then a photographer first, concerned with design and content management very much second, so I was never that bothered by the way my blog functioned. I was concerned with getting posts written and shot and, well, posted.

Over the years I've been frustrated by my limitations here and have longed to move my blog. I wanted more freedom. What I really wanted - and still do - was to hit the design jackpot somewhere and have someone who really, really knows what she's doing to come along and love me so much that she just says, "Here. You're nice. Let me have your blog. I'll put it on its own platform and fix it and love it."

Needless to say that has never happened. I've haphazardly purchased a few other domains. I've downloaded WordPress and read about it thinking maybe that's the way to go. My primary complaints about TypePad have been about ease of use. As a way novice Web designer *which is more appropriately described as a wannabe, I'd like to have more obvious control over my masthead and my layout. I'd like templates that don't look like someone created them who's watched too many episodes of Microsoft Word. As someone who has paid for this service since day one, yes, I would like some updated stuff that isn't sixteen colors of the same pattern of leaves or paintbrushes.

And yes, I'm sure those hacks exist. I'm sure I could find them, but that's not the point. SixApart could do it, I'm quite sure. Vox looks kind of cool. I'm not sure why the ancestral platform has to look so...ancestral. 

I just haven't had the time I need to investigate my options. When I did I didn't feel competent enough with the lingo and was overwhelmed enough that I was sure I was...doing it wrong. And in the meantime I have never stopped writing and posting except for a brief hiatus here and there, so I just kept logging in and doing my thing, even though it's felt a little more underwhelming all the time.

What I need from TypePad is a better way to design and manage my existing blog, and this is why I'm confused about why you'd move to the micro phase before the macro is the best it can be. I'd like better templates, yes, and also a less antiquated way to do photos (PLEASE!) I don't want to log in and post into a little box. 

I want a way to do comment follow-up.

I want easier menus and help options to follow, instead of having to dig through a years-old library that feels like a rabbit hole. 

Did I mention I want better photo management? And it would be awesome if it would sync with iPhoto?

I want a golden ticket, Father.

I want a better blog, here- not a microblog. That's why I come here. I can micro everything everywhere else. I do micro everything. I tweet all the livelong day. I also have an abandoned Vox, and a Posterous, and a Tumblr. I don't know what I'm doing with any of those things, but I have them.

My blog is not Twitter. I don't want it to be Twitter. Just like everything does not have to be skiing or cellphones or pizza, everything does not have to be Twitter. 

I will say that I appreciate TypePad on my iPhone. I completed NaBloPoMo this year and it was cool to be able to post - a real, longish text post - from my phone. I'm satisfied with the interface and the way I can receive my comments there too.

But TypePad Micro, in my computer, is not what I need, because I can get it somewhere else. Call me crazy and demanding, but I'd like to get stuff I don't have here, where I pay for it.

Epiphany

If Snow White added an eighth dwarf I'd be Angsty.

Working on my paper, 1:30 a.m.

When I get spam about some awesome watches that I really ought to have from someone named Hilario Mooney, is it bad to wish that was a real person?

Thursday

I used to have time to do fun things like upload photos and sit around and think on occasion. Then I went to grad school again, because I'm a masochistic crazy person. Now...I panic and feel inadequate.

Invigorating, really. But tonight I'm taking a break from that to dump out some randomness. Shall we?

First of all, I'll add them to the playlist on the left, but I really have to encourage you to pick up Girlyman's new live cd. It was in my mailbox the day I got home from New Orleans, and it's been my best friend ever since. They're telling the truth when they say it's one of their concerts you can listen to at home. I love it.  My favorite song on it today is the Cyndi Lauper cover, "All Through the Night." I like the new songs a lot too...and I'm so happy to have their signature encore, "Son Of A Preacher Man." Awesome. Do go see them if they come to your area - they've been swinging this on their own, for the most part, for six years and besides being talented musicians, they're nice people and a lot of fun to see in concert.

In less happy music news, I'm not excited about the Virgin Festival lineup this year. I'm guessing these are the headliners. It's like a rack of promo cds threw up - out of order - and not my favorite rack of promos ever, either. Nine Inch Nails? Stone Temple Pilots? Jack Johnson? Confusing to me...Here, let's sing Banana Pancakes with Jack and then stroll over to watch Kanye bust it. Weird. I love the Foo Fighters but they play a lot and I've seen them in a small venue in what amounts to a perfect show for them in Cincinnati, so I don't know if I need to again.

I honestly have no idea what the STP lineup is anymore - although Interstate Love Song will always be one of my favorite summer driving songs of all time - and NIN, eh. They always bummed me out. I can't say I disliked the music entirely, it was just on another plane than where I normally reside or care to travel. I've had some friends who were pretty big fans over the years - an interesting lot, I have to say. The serious (and oh, they are so serious, aren't they?) NIN fans I've known have either been complete lunatics or totally repressed. Hmm. I wonder what that even means.

Will I ever make it to Bonnaroo? Probably not. Dammit. My word I need a sugar daddy. Or at least a cute boy with a car, a week off and a decent sense of humor. JESUS CHRIST WORLD, shut your mouth and pay attention! Meet my needs! They are so stupid minimal!

Speaking of things that do not meet my needs, I was putting gas in my car today and the ticker was going  up and up and up and I was all what's up with that Willis? And because I am older every day and hurt in weird places in spite of my denial I made the Herculean effort to turn my head to look up at the sign at Fletcher's and I was like, "Fuck you. $3.53? For a gallon of gas?" And I kind of wanted to get in my tiny little very expensive now to drive car and head straight to the White House, and go, "Looky here little man. You need to leave now." I mean, I've always despised him. Ask anyone who was around during the first election that started this madness. I got a little crazy, right then and there, and things weren't nearly this bad then. I just took one look in his beady little eyes and knew we were screwed. And still we have him, prancing around on the tarmac, wanting to try on the Pope's hat today, and nobody does a damned thing. We have nine months left of this shit, people. Do you know what he could do in nine months? Have a party, is all I'm saying, because he can still swing some major machinations in the time he has left.

$46.07 it took to fill up my car today. And I drive a BEETLE, a dinky little car. It must cost twice that to fill an SUV, which, gotta say, you deserve it if you're trashing the environment worse than I am, but still. An Escalade? Please tell me it's $100 now. And no, I'm not an eco-terrorist. I'm just sick of feeling like i need springs on my car to bounce up and see around me from all sides. Menaces to the highway, all y'all.

AND yes, The Pope is here. I love how this is all flowing in spite of myself.  I'm not paying a lot of attention to him in a mindful way, but the news has gone insane. I should care, I guess, raised Catholic as I was. Regardless, the word "popemobile" is stupid.

Seriously, the tv was on in the other room earlier while I was fussing with the ridiculous disk utility thing on here that currently owns my soul instead of the Holy Trinity, and I could hear him saying Mass at the National Shrine. Surreal. I understand (oh believe you me, baby, I get it) that he's a pretty powerful religious leader, but it's so weird to see the world go Catholic when there is so much misunderstanding and criticism of ritual and belief, and people who have obviously never been to a bas mitzvah complain about a measly one-hour service...And I say this from a place where I don't practice at all, except for clinging to a few symbols and appreciating the good I took away from being educated and raised in an environment where this was the path to walk.

So I called the nurse's station at the assisted living and asked them please to go turn the tv to NBC in my grandmother's room, because I am if nothing else a marginally good granddaughter, and I remain in some latent fear that the blessed sacrament will smite me if I neglect to inform my ancestors of the Holy Father's presence on our soil. And I'm at least glad that he took responsibility for the priest abuse debacle, and had the class to acknowledge that pedophilia and homosexuality are different. I mean, duh, but this is a guy who's been steeped in nothing but church stuff for all of his life, and he's 80 years old. It's a big deal for him to even address it. Stay classy, Vatican.

Speaking of which, I am SO FREAKING TIRED of my FREAKING GODDAMNED HARD DRIVE. I'm also a little tired of my life, right now, to be honest. Just a little. I have an INSANE amount of work to get done by May 10th. Insane. I don't know how I'll do it, really, and still write good stories and put together excellent web packages and photo essays. That's the hook, you know, it's one thing to get the work done but it's another to have it not suck. And if there's one thing about me that's consistent amidst all of my raging inconsistency, it's that the story or the photo or the combination of same had best not suck, because I'll hate myself.

I had a breakdown about my dog today. I checked in online with the dog I sponsored a couple of weeks ago and I saw that he wasn't adopted, and I was looking at the pictures and I sort of melted down. At first I thought it was just my normal reactionary teary sort of thing and then I realized it came from somewhere else and it wouldn't stop and I was partially horrified and partially relieved that I could still feel something on this level (and also that I was home alone.) Sometimes I wonder if my heart will always be this intrinsically broken, break on top of break on top of blahblahblah, nothing to replace it. I imagine something will have to change at some juncture, but I can't imagine when. That sounds pathetic. I want to erase it. Won't.

I did get some good news today, which is that I'll be going to Denver to cover the Democratic National Convention, instead of St. Paul to hang out with Mr. McCain. I would have gone to either gladly, because hey it's on the university and they're cool enough to send me. Plus I've heard that Minneapolis is a nice literary city and it's close, and it seems like August would be the best time to go there, when you only need a light jacket. But the story in Colorado is going to be so much bigger, no matter how this turns out.

Plus, Denver is where badass lady girl Heather Clisby is, and there are also mountains. I'm excited. This should be an awesome summer.

Finally, Bret chose Ambre, although it isn't real, I humor them. Ambre with an "re" is so beautifully Canadian, isn't it, for a woman from Alabama? Love that. And speaking of Canada, my little girl Dolores is a little Mama. Welcome springtime baby Desmond, bearer of both the best baby hair and the best baby name I've heard in a very long time. I love you already.

In other news, today I want to move to New York. Yes, today it's New York. Today I have nothing to lose. That's the story.

Rich geeks are fooling around

Awkwardly.

And as unethical as it might be, this is one Google app I could really use.

Happy April.

No nerve

The scissors guy was FIVE PEOPLE IN FRONT OF ME in line at the passport office again today when I went back to pick it up.

I so didn't ask him if he got them back, or if he's still getting married. I'm such a smack talker.

I have a new passport! And I didn't lose it between the office and home. Ready to rock and roll.

Missing you

Mom: I just miss it.

Me: Like Faith Evans misses Biggie.

Mom: Yeah.

Me: Do you know who that is?

Mom: Who?

Me: Right.

Gaping Void

I got this from Gaping Void, via my friend Deb, who makes me wish even more that I lived in California, because so many of my favorite people are there. Actually, I stole it from her Facebook page, which I think makes me a child also, but I'm fully embracing that. Anyway, I think it's funny, and also useful. May you think so as well.

Call me PJ - which is really no better.

Gretchen Mol, who has been in movies I cannot remember with other people I cannot remember, had a child in the past couple of days and named him Ptolemy John.

I wish he was large enough and cognizant enough to kick her ass to Athens and back.