Archives For Blogging

My friend Dawn, who writes the blog Tales from the Motherland, invited me to a big blog party where we all flood the Interwebs with happiness and gratitude.

I met Dawn when I went to BlogHer. It was a magical meeting – we recognized one another in the lobby of the Hilton and screamed like hyenas. So, in honor of that cacaphonous connection, I’m writing this post.

The catch: We are supposed to come up with 50 things in 10 minutes.

People who read my blog know that even writing a post in one hour was hugely challenging. But I got amped up on caffeine and decided to Just Do It.

Here are 50 things that made me happy in 2015:


1. My kid, Little Dude. He’s a great big funny soul with a lion heart.

2. Music. I’m married to writing but I cheat with music.

3. My Brooklyn baseball hat.

FullSizeRender (3)


4. A great shade of red lipstick that doesn’t make me look like a deranged old lady.

5. This laptop. My partner in crime.

6. Writing. If I didn’t write my soul would implode.


8. Books.

9. Did I say books?

10. Colors. Especially purple, but all of them. They make life interesting.

11. Patti Smith. She was a skinny, picked-on outcast who reinvented herself as something else. That sounds familiar…

12. My Guardian Angel. Bless.




13. Eminem

14. M&M’s.

15. The incredible birthday mixtape blog hop that Lizzi created for my birthday this year.

16. Good hair days.

18. The fact that I can be rebellious and defiant and skip a number if I want to. Freedom. Fuck you, #17.

19. Laughing. I do it frequently. It fights aging.

20. Orgasms. Ditto.

21. Flirting. Especially at a red light. Long enough to be fun, short enough to make a clean getaway with no complications.

22. Math. This year and every year. Give me a complex math problem and my brain lights up like a pinball machine.

23. My rock tee collection.




24. Weight gain. Which is also something I loathe, but with it came breasts. I’m a REALLY late bloomer.

25. Blanket forts. My kid is King of the Blanket Forts.




26. Lenny Kravitz. Still. Always

27. New York City. I had way too much fun there this year.

28. That my kid fell in love with art this year. A pivotal experience.




29. Libraries. Nerd Central. Liking Star Wars doesn’t make you a nerd. Hanging out at the library does.

30. WordPress. They make me feel like a rock star. They recently included me in a New Year’s Blog resolution round up. 

31. Spotify. Whatever music I want, where I want it.

32. My new car – a Nissan Rogue. I know nothing about cars, and I totally I bought it because I like the name “Rogue.”

33. My guitar.



34. The high school kids who recently let me join their band.

35. Roku. I may never leave the house again.

36. The fact that nerd culture is now cool. It wasn’t always.

37. Superhero pajamas.



38. A black slouchy beanie that my kid says makes me look like one of the Seven Dwarves but is incredibly warm.

39. Kurt Cobain. Specifically, a documentary about him called Montage of Heck.

40. The kind of movie that you get a movie hangover from. See number 39.

41. I’m grateful for teenagers, and for being emotionally stunted enough to still feel like one.

42. The fact that my kid has not found me on the Internet. When he does, I’m fucked. For now, I can say whatever the hell I want on my blog and Facebook page, and I do.

43. French fries. One of the true great vehicles for ketchup.

44. Green drinks. They taste like swamp in a cup but I feel pretty great after I drink them.

45. Jason Bateman. He’s handsome, hilarious, and twisted.

46. The Sisterwives meetup in Dallas.

47. The fact that people READ WHAT I WRITE. And comment. Thank you.

48. Travel. That I live in a world where I can do it freely. This year I went to Nashville, Dallas, and am about to leave for Portland, Oregon for the holidays.

49. My mistakes. Holy shit, I made some HUGE ones this year. But the upside is, I won’t be making those again. And they give me something to write about. People love a good debacle not of their own making.

50. This song. Chills.


What things were you happy about in 2015? 
Talk to me. I’m listening. 


Join me on FacebookInstagram, and Twitter  so I can have friends without leaving the house. 



If you’d like to join in, here’s how it works: set a timer for 10 minutes; timing this is critical. Once you start the timer, start your list (the timer doesn’t matter for filling in the instructions, intro, etc). The goal is to write 50 things that made you happy in 2015, or 50 thing that you feel grateful for. The idea is to not think too hard; write what comes to mind in the time allotted. When the timer’s done, stop writing. If you haven’t written 50 things, that’s ok. If you have more than 50 things and still have time, keep writing; you can’t feel too happy or too grateful!

When I finished my list, I took a few extra minutes to add links and photos.

To join us for this project: 1) Write your post and publish it (please copy and paste the instructions from this post, into yours). Click on the link below to join the party. 

Share your happy thoughts, your gratitude; help us flood the blogosphere with both!


Linkey thing here:


December 16, 2015



WordPress News, that is.


The editors at WordPress asked 7 bloggers what their blogging goals were for 2016. I paid off an editor

curled up in the fetal position and cried outside their office

gave them my kid to do yard work

was legitimately asked to be a part of this!!

I’d love it if you come and check it out. Because guess what? I mention all of YOU.


Here’s the link: What Are Your Blogging Goals for 2016? 

I’m super excited I was asked to be a part of this, and totally grateful to WordPress for the opportunity. They ROCK!

I’m going to close comments here, so you’ll comment over there, if you are so inclined.


I love you guys. Thanks for reading.


One Hour

December 4, 2015 — 92 Comments




This is an experiment to see what I can write in one hour. I’ve just set the timer on my phone.

Tick, Tock.

One of my writing idols and Sisterwife Michelle says she writes blog posts in an hour. And her writing is fantastic. I, on the other hand, take days, sometimes weeks, to write a post.

My process is excruciating. I have to learn how to write in a less labor-intensive way. So this is an experiment to see what I can write in an hour.


Granted, I sometimes research for hours. My last post, I surfed the net (do people still use that expression?) for hours, looking at videos and reading stories about ridiculously lavish parties.

This post will be a no-research post.

For me, writing is rewriting. I spend countless hours looking for better, more evocative ways to say things. Which phrase has more impact? Is funnier? I also love to invent words, and that in itself is a process. It takes a lot of time to come up with yet another euphemism for “vagina.”

Quamph pocket. There.

Meh. It’s not as good as “smush mitten.”


Tick, Tock.


I just realized – I’m rambling on and on because I DON’T HAVE A TOPIC! The integrity of this experiment has been compromised! I need to start over. I’ll think of a topic, THEN try to write on it for an hour.




I couldn’t come up with a topic. I was all errgghhh arrrghhhh ohhhhh fuck!

I have forty-eleven partially-written posts in my drafts, but I can’t just crash in on something I’ve already started and try to finish it in one hour.

How can I explain about my obsession with Patty Hearst in one hour? I don’t think I can do justice to “Kim Kardashian for President” in an hour. And it will take me much longer than an hour, possibly days, to remember “That Time I Got Lost In Madison Square Garden.” If I can remember the details at all, because – well. I DID get lost in a concert arena during a Pink Floyd show.


So, am I just to ramble on, in the hopes that you guys will read my word vomit? My mind is an endless loop of thoughts. It’s extremely hard for me to stay focused. As a matter of fact, while trying to write this, my mind has wandered on in about 20 different directions.

I’ve thought about what rock tee I want to put on Instagram today (Eminem, because shit is getting real these days). I’ve thought about the fact that I offered to drive one of my students somewhere at 7 am tomorrow, and WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING? Aarrrgh. Normally I get to sleep in a little on Saturdays.

I’ve obsessed over the fact that Hanukkah begins this weekend. which means I’ll be making potato pancakes. They’re a lot of work, but my kid really loves them. But after you fry potato pancakes, your house smells like oil FOR DAYS. Like, headache-inducing oil. No matter how many windows you leave open.

I’m 22 minutes and 664 words in, and I’ve written nothing of substance. Wait, does the hour include editing? Shite. What about searching for an image? Crap.

I don’t think I can write a post in one hour.


There are other things I CAN do in an hour. Writing is not one of them.

In one hour, I can make something out of origami. I love those colorful squares of paper. I could really get into a little origami.  I’m not talking about a flower or some shit. I’m talking about something a little COMPLICATED.

Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!

Now THAT’S what I’m talking about!



In an hour I can bake some fierce cookies.

Can cookies be fierce? If I wasn’t on a freaking deadline, I’d look for a better word. What on earth would a “fierce” cookie look like? I would google it, but I’m afraid. Lady Google is an unpredictable bitch.


In an hour I can look up some bizarre expressions in French. I love the way the French say things. For example, the French are not “arrogant.” They “fart higher than their ass is located.” (Péter plus haut que son cul). That’s FANTASTIC.


In an hour I could practice guitar, something I don’t do often enough. I recently joined a band with some teenagers, and I suck compared to them. I suppose it doesn’t matter. None of the Ramones could play their instruments when they first started.

In an hour I could buy something at Walmart. Just one thing, though, because you can drop dead in the aisle at Walmart and still not get noticed by a salesperson. I liken shopping at Walmart to the punishment inflicted on mythological king Sisyphus. He was condemned to roll a boulder up to the top of a mountain, only to have it roll back down to the bottom every time he reaches the top. For all eternity.


Tick, Tock.


In an hour I could go for a run (okay, a walk).
I could get veeery drunk (it doesn’t take much).
I could put makeup on your cat or dog (if you wanted me to.)
I could do “8 Minute Abs,” 7 and a half times (Maths, people). Instead of a 6 pack, would I get a 45-pack?


Speaking of 8 minutes, I have 8 minutes left. I’m going to use them to edit this post, and maybe look for a picture or two. And then, hit “Publish.” If there are typos, cut me some slack! I’ll get better at this…


How long does it take you to write a blog post? What interesting things can you do in an hour?
Talk to me. I’m listening.



Join me on Facebook so I can have friends without leaving the house! I’m also on Instagram

mask with color


It would have been problematic to walk around BlogHer with my hair artfully swept in front of my face all weekend.


According to the lady at the waxing salon, Instagram is the best way to network. Evidently, some chick who pours hot wax on my vag is the final word on networking, because I opened my Instagram account the day before BlogHer.

Annnnd, I posted pictures of myself on it. By the second day, I could no longer resist taking selfies with other bloggers. EVERYONE was doing it, and I was stupid drunk just got into the spirit of things.


The first day of BlogHer, I clung anxiously to Quirky Chrissy, who took excellent care of me. She was completely chill about me being up her ass like a suppository. Chrissy is one of the most positive, light-filled people I’ve ever met. Even hungover, her optimism defies logic.

I stopped attending sessions at BlogHer, after sitting through ones that informed me I was violating all “rules” of blogging. My posts are too long, my titles suck, I have no niche, I don’t organize my blog-related files (organize my blog files? I get outwitted by laundry).

I did some networking at the Expo, and found out that although I can’t earn actual money writing for brands, I CAN get paid in dog food. I’m gonna buy a dog so I can finally monetize this blogging thing.


The best part of the conference was not the sessions or the Expo. It was the camaraderie. In my soulless suburban neighborhood, women specialize in haughty standoffish-ness.  At BlogHer, the default behavior is “Hey! Let’s hang out!”


I was very much ME at the conference. And people still liked me.

– I dress like a middle aged rock star frantically trying to beat back death by shopping at Hot Topics.

– I am clumsy. Chrissy and Joules watched me slam-walk straight into a glass door.

– I’m a hot mess who loses EVERYTHING. I lost my wallet (recovered!), my conference badge (got another) and my sunglasses (prescriptions Ray Bans, sadly gone forever.)

– I can be nutty. The first thing I did after meeting Chrissy was jump up and down on her bed shouting “WHERE ARE THE LESBIANS???”

– I say inappropriate things, like, “Okay, I’m gonna go to my room, watch a little porn on my phone and touch myself.”

– I do inappropriate things, like grinding up against the beautiful Ponies and Martinis while dancing at the closing party. She was totally cool about it, even though I held about as much appeal as a kid grabbing on your clean blouse with greasy French Fry fingers.

– I am an incorrigible flirt. I picked up a man in the elevator.

This one needs an explanation, so I don’t sound like a slutty elevator strumpet. I was waiting for the hotel elevator with Chrissy and Joules, deep in discussion about whether testicles are essential, because, you know, that’s a vital topic to discuss in public.

A hot guy emerged from the hotel gym and joined in our conversation. We all bantered in the elevator, and because his chiseled abs showed through his sweaty shirt he seemed interesting, I asked him,  “Are you single?” He was, and asked for my number.

He then exited the elevator on the wrong floor 3 times, claiming that I “made him nervous.” It think it was more that I was wearing this:


me at blgo her




Apparently, when I drink I feel the need to make out with bloggers like Aussa Lorens.

kiss aussa


And Minions.



I’m practically blind without my glasses (which I wasn’t wearing, because that would make too much sense). So I introduced myself to bloggers with my “Helen Keller at the dinner table” impersonation, in which I would grab the badge from around their necks and yank it up to see who they were.

This was how Dawn and I discovered simultaneously who the other was, and SCREAMED at the top of our lungs in the hotel lobby like two hyenas escaped from the Central Park zoo.

Gunmetal Geisha is an enchanting, ultra feminine waif. She captured the whole experience on video but I swear that’s not why I’m saying all these nice things bout her.

I’ve “known” Emily as long as I’ve been blogging, but our friendship was firmly cemented when she proclaimed at the closing party, “If you can’t appreciate the glory of David Bowie you have no soul.”

Usually when I meet someone and I feel like I know them, it’s because they were in jail with me. Lucy, however, I think was my sister in another life. She took off this necklace and gifted it to me:




Molly (A Mother Life) is a funky redhead with a killer Aussie accent, Sarah (est. 1975) is even FUNNIER in person than on her blog, Jen Kehl, techie goddess extraordinaire, of COURSE had an extra phone charger thingey when my phone died.


The closing night party was on Pier 84 in Manhattan. The food was by McDonald’s, but cheeseburgers become ambrosia when a wait staff of all gorgeous male models serves them to you on trays.

As the sun set over the Hudson River, we drank free booze and danced our faces off to old school R&B. In between dancing, l lounged on the grass with the coolest group of chicks ever.

I started the weekend a nervous introverted wreck. I ended it laying on a blanket on the grass, laughing, talking, cuddling with my head in Lucy’s lap, purring contentedly while watching the stars in the night sky.


Writing is how I breathe. However, it can be a very lonely endeavor. I began blogging because I craved interaction. For me, that was my main takeaway from the conference. I connected.

Online friendships are missing a crucial physical component, that of touch. At BlogHer, I was able to hug/kiss/grab/grind/snuggle/hold all the people I’ve “known” online.

The beautiful people who have lived in my heart for a year and a half, became real.


Have you been to a blog conference?  Have you met people you know from the Internet in real life?
What was I thinking with that outfit with my bra showing??   Talk to me. I’m listening.


July 18, 2015 — 7 Comments

The world just got brighter today. Rara is free!