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BlogHer & MommyGeek 2.0

Categories: making memories, photoblog | Tags: , , , , , ,

This has happened two years in a row. I want to recap BlogHer, but I just can’t find the words.  So many of you have expressed how this event feels much better than I ever could. So many of you have shared your experiences with beautiful prose or raw feeling.

I had some great conversations about the Headway Theme for WordPress and how super duper excited I am about the newest version coming out soon (Headway sponsored me this year, because I asked, because I love their product).  I am probably going to write a post about how it relates to some of the sessions this year — namely the sessions about layout and hacking a WordPress theme. If you attended that session, I think Headway could make your life easier. And that would be good, right, cuz don’t we all just want to write?

I had a #bostonsleepover with Kat, launched her new design on a new URL, and recruited her as my new best friend. Same brain, two smokin bodies. Seriously.

I harassed and stalked @TheCaffeinatrix, even pulling a sneaky-ninja move and tracking down her cell phone number, in a desperate bid to see her Saturday night. It totally worked. She even hugged me. Summary? She hugs stalkers, basically. It’s awesome.

Every time I saw Jenny, she was wearing red. Oh, and click that link and look at the amazing header graphic that Maria created. It’s FUCKING AWESOME. I didn’t see enough of Maria, but we did get to hug. And I met her husband. He’s a cutie-pie. She’s a cutie-pie. She even said that she fell in love with him again on this trip. Gag me with a spoon, right? (::whispers:: @zennmora, call me!!)

NonaNelson is pretty much the most huggable person ever. Oh, and she’s cute on Twitter. Follow that shit.

Issa was as honest and raw and beautiful as ever. Talking to her is akin to drinking from an icy cold spring in the middle of a beautiful forest. It’s rare and wonderful and full of awesomesauce.  Also she asked about a redesign for her site and I said HELL YES! She may have been kidding. I’m not. Kari was sweet and funny and has a laugh that jut makes me want to laugh.

Megan rocked an awesome new tattoo and even some pirate socks. Crystal brought a stamp book but didn’t get a chance to look at it even once, she was too busy partying hard!

I finally met Colleen and Tatiana in the flesh and OH MY GOD THEY ARE SO FREAKING CUTE. And beautiful. And fun. I love my Girl Talk Thursday gals. Unfortunately, Diane wasn’t there.  Sad panda. Seriously. I would have loved a picture with everyone together!

I met PrincessJenn and she wisely advised me that yes I did want to try that pastry thing because it had ice cream in it. Smart girl.

I met (again) Sam (@temptingmama) and (again) loved her and her hugs forever. Oh, and she actually remembered who I was. Which was cool. (Why do I always assume people won’t know who I am?)

I saw Anissa coming out of the ladies room and, possibly much to her dismay, I ran over and gave her a big hug and sort of introduced myself (and she actually/pretended to know me, too!) and told her she looked beautiful. Because she did. Different, yes. A major stroke has that effect – but her smile, it was the same 1000 watt smile, and it was amazing.

I met and hung out with PouBou for a while, on two different nights I think (it’s all a blur). She’s a freaking cutie. Oh, and she can dance. :)

I met CosmicGirlie. HOLY SHIT did I meet CosmicGirlie. I… I have no words. She’s fucking amazing. And she has an accent, so it’s extra cute when she swears. Her personality is just way over the top and huge.

There was an impromptu party with @superjules, @papasan and his wife, @grace134 and others… who else was there?! That was the only time I got a little drunk, so I don’t quite remember it all. Just that I wasn’t expecting a party and I was wearing a nightgown. And that everyone saw my tits and/or my ass at some point because nightgown + drinking + lounging on bed = nudity. <—- memorize this. Life lesson.

I got up the nerve to sing karaoke – Should I Stay or Should I Go. I don’t think anyone really heard/saw me other than Kat, but I promise, I totally did.

I saw Stacy again. And I met BabyNater. And STACY. I have a serious not-so-secret girl-crush on Stacy. It’s pathetic really, but I can’t help myself. There were more. There are always more. I can never remember you all, it’s all a blur! I’d feel bad, but it happens to everyone.

Other thoughts! I met some amazing sponsors who really had something of value to offer me – be it information, a sample or just a great conversation (I’m lookin’ at you, Hillshr. I met some amazing people sponsoring awesome companies and doing it tastefully and tactfully. I didn’t meet any swag whores (or maybe I just know how to avoid them?). I wished they had been able to do the Speed Dating at BlogHer because that is my favorite part of Day 1. I really hope that the Hilton donated the extra food from our catered meals, because there was a lot of it. Having a couple of days before the conference really got going was a good idea for us. Gave me time to settle in and feel comfortable. The Hilton staff were amazing, but they charge for a lot of incidentals that I’m used to having covered at hotels around here, and it was a bit ridiculous. Also, room service? Really, $40 for grilled cheese and a diet coke? Really!? Oh, New York. You silly bitch.

I walked around NYC a bit. I ate at some amazing restaurants / delis. I partied, but not too hard. I drank, but not too much. I cried, probably too much, when I missed my kids. DaddyGeek came with me to BlogHer this year. It was wonderful. We had a good time together, we needed that time together I think. We had a chance to connect a little bit more. We stayed in one night and just watched a movie and had food delivered and it was wonderful to snuggle up and just… relax. I uploaded 173 pictures to Flickr in a set called BlogHer10. You might want to look :) Steal whatever to use in your own recap posts, just make sure you link back to my Flickr stream.

PS I love you.

15 Comments

Other Ways You Can Connect with Me

Categories: General, about mommygeekology | Tags: , ,

My favorite thing about blogging is the community. I don’t necessary have a lot of readers, or a lot of commenters, but I do have a lot of friends here, and I love to make & maintain those connections. So, how else can you connect with me?

I'm third from the right!

Facebook: I use my Facebook account as a way to connect with folks I interact with on Twitter, my clients, and my bloggy friends from Mommy Geekology 2.0. So, you know, friend me.

Twitter: I am on Twitter more than Facebook (though I’ve been slightly less active over the last two weeks as I get caught up on the new/old job). I tweet from the toilet and I regularly say shocking things on purpose. Sometimes I am funny. Sometimes not. It’s very me and human and generally uncensored, so if you’re into that, then follow me.

Google ReaderGoogle Reader: I have always used my Google Reader Shared Items as a way to share content – geeky or bloggy – that I find interesting or valuable. If you want to subscribe, you can do that! . The first item I share every hour is also posted to Twitter. The rest are only available on my shared items feed. You’ll see a combination of what I feel would be relevant technology information (i.e. new awesome products being reviewed or cool things on Lifehacker.com) to my readership (moms, women, bloggers, families) and blog posts that I loved.

And since this is a community, please tell me in the comments where I can connect with you.

1 Comment

Somebody Save Me from My Kid's Zhu-Zhu Pet

Categories: Guest Posts | Tags: , ,

My guest poster today is Lauren Hale, a mother of three who sleeps in until 630a every day, Lauren survives her days on nothing more than Starbucks and sheer grit. She’s sassy, outspoken, and hardly ever takes no for an answer. Unfortunately, her kiddos are just like her and choose to exercise these qualities as she blogs about Postpartum Mood Disorders. She’s found a cure though – headphones and Pandora. Oh, and right now, she’s probably being forced to play with a Zhu-Zhu pet.

Chirp.

Aaawwwww.

Buddddudowwwwww.

Ow. Vroom Vroom. Buh-tack.

Beep honk SQUAWK.

MAKE.IT.STOP.

I haven’t even downed my entire first cup of coffee yet.

And I’ve been invaded by the Zhu Zhu Pet. Worse, invaded by a Zhu Zhu pet under the control of a two year old who insists on driving it into my arm repeatedly as I type.

Earlier this week, I hid this thing in my purse.

You see, my four year old daughter got it for her birthday on Sunday. She left it in the car. I slid it into my purse to see how long it would take her to ask for the thing.

It wasn’t until her father arrived home on Monday evening and brilliantly asked her if she had played with it today that she freaked out.

Full on freak out too – yelling, jumping, I think I left it in the car, DEAR GOD PLEASE LET ME HAVE LEFT IT IN THE CAR. LET’S GO GET IT NOW!!!

Crap.

Our other daughter got one last week while she was in the hospital for pneumonia. It was cute. For about five minutes.

I don’t think the toy manufacturers sit around brainstorming what will make kids happy.

No, no, that’s not it at all.

They sit around those tables in dark, dank rooms plotting what will most annoy parents.

And then they multiply it by a million.

Yep, that’s I think what they do and I’m sticking to it.

2 Comments

I am Content {Bibliosaurus}

Categories: Guest Posts, featured | Tags: , , , ,

My dear friend Kat (aka Bibliosaurus) (for whom I have coerced into letting me design her a website. Possibly with a dinosaur eating books) (and with whom I am ROAD TRIPPING to New York for BlogHer10!!) needed to vent. My blog is a safe place ;-) She’s gone through a lot and recently had an epiphany with regards to her self-worth, happiness and a past love. Have a read, won’t you?

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My ex is getting married. In January. To a lady he met on match.com.

Normally, had I heard the news that someone else found love and was truly happy*I would have been ecstatic. This time, sitting in a warehouse with my friend Meghan, stretching to try aerial for the first time, I was blown away.

On  the surface I laughed, called him a tool, made a joke about how he would never be happy* and moved into the next stretch.

In my head, my jaw dropped and I reeled.

The problem isn’t so much that he moved on so fast. While that, in itself, is a crushing blow to both my self-esteem and my knowledge of how he will never be happy, knowing who he is better than he thinks I do, the problem instead is the fact that knowing this, knowing he has moved on so completely so quickly, means that what I thought was something huge was  false, was lies, smoke and mirrors, nothing.

January 2009 he told me he still loved me. For the last time. I told him I couldn’t keep being jerked around, and I meant it. Being dumped and getting back together with someone is  only possible for so long. I was tired of being told I was worthless only to have him come back saying that he forgave me for whatever error he felt I had committed. I was tired of being the 4am phone call when his depression surfaced days after he kicked me out of his life again. I was tired of the emotional roller coasters, the friends giving me that pitying look for still trying, the  face that I couldn’t keep food down due to stress, that my job performance was consistently lowering. I was tired.

In January 2011 he will be getting married to a very nice girl he met online. I have absolutely nothing against using dating sites. Two of my absolute favorite couples ever met online and their relationships make me ache with beauty and love. The problem is that he started this profile while we were still sleeping together – broken up but still faking it I guess? – and he told me he started it as a kind of joke.

The speed of turn around makes me feel as though the love he proclaimed, the deep emotions he told me he felt, that I felt, we nothing. Because, as Meghan said to me on a completely  different subject, “if he was in love with me, he wouldn’t be with someone so fast”. Those feelings don’t go away over night. They can’t.

I recently (read: in the last few months) realized that I was emotionally over him. My heart had healed to the point that I was completely and utterly in love with someone else, that all my doubts seemed to have been erased, that my mind could focus on the fact thathe was that and what I had was something different – and something more. I was secure in the  knowledge that what we’d had had been something for us, but what I had now was something better, and worth a lot more.

But now. Now its as if hes telling me it was nothing. Telling me through the mouths of other friends. Telling me the time we spent together was worthless.

There was no mourning period for him.

There was match.com, a new girlfriend literally weeks after he told me he was still in love with me, and a marriage  planned for less than 2 years later.

Putting this into words makes it harder to articulate. I don’t want to make you feel that I hate my life or think what I have now isn’t worth it, or that I miss him. Nothing is farther from fact. Instead, I feel like I’ve wasted time, I’ve wasted energy. I wasted emotion on someone who felt that I wasn’t worth it. I feel that I was lied to and unappreciated.

And I feel so happy that I have moved on. I have a handsome, funny, silly, loving and caring man. I have a man who appreciates every little thing I do. I have friends and a life that I am absolutely happy with. I am content.

I am content.

And the bitch in me? The bitch in me is happy that I know he will
never be happy. That little voice in me knows I’ve won in the end. Not
that I’ve won the relationship, not that I’ve won over him. But that
I’ve won in my ability to move on and be successful and happy in life.

And while sometimes I will worry and fret, sometimes I will feel disheartened because he may have never meant what he said or what he acted, sometimes I will have doubts of not being good enough based on his warped criteria, I will also remember how much I am loved and how much I have bettered myself in the process.

Because I have, and I will continue to do so.

And also, January weddings are lame.

*He will never be truly happy. That’s just not who he is.

5 Comments

MAMMOGRAM!

Categories: Guest Posts | Tags: , , ,

What’s that? You think I’ve lined up all these guest posters in order to avoid writing original content on my blog because they are funnier than I am because I”m lazy because I’m good at sharing? Why thank you! Today’s guest post is brought to you by Chibi, whom I love, and admire, and she made me a HANDMADE card. And mailed it to me. It was awesome.

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A guest post?  Oh…  Uh… Well.  I’ve never done one of these before.  I’m feeling a little nervous.  *smooths back hair*  *adjusts shirt*  *twitches*  Please be gentle!  (Seriously, though?  Mommygeekology is likely the only one I’d willingly give my guest-posting cherry to.  And that is FAR more awesome than it sounds, trust me.)

Boobs.

We all have ‘em (yes, even the men-folk, although I think they’re what we call “moobs” in polite society): big ones, little ones, perky ones (bitches), saggy ones.  They’re both a blessing and a curse.  They give sustenance and pleasure, both physically and visually.  But they can be a pain in the… tit sometimes, too.  Like that time of the month when they’re so bloody sore and somehow manage to attract every. single. elbow/corner/wall/car door. within a 20-mile radius.

This?  Is not the time for monkey business where the girls are concerned.

Case in point: my other half.

He’s an awesome guy: kind, considerate, loving, strangely turned on by me, and LOVES mah bewbies.  One night we were lying in bed talking when, out of the clear blue farking sky, he leaned over – quick as a wink! – placed a hand on either side of my left breast, yelled “MAMMOGRAM!”, and CLAPPED.

That’s right: he SLAMMED my hormonally-tender breasticle between his big, meaty, man-paws.  And then he laughed.  Like it was funny.

Once I caught my breath and my eyes stopped watering, I looked and him and hissed “WHY did you DO that?!?”  He looked like a deer caught in the headlights with his eyes as large as saucers – he knew by the spittle flying from my mouth the intensity of my voice that he had done a no good, very bad, awful thing.  “I-I thought it would be funny?”  Yeah, NO.  After I explained WHY it wasn’t funny, he told me that he didn’t realize my fun bags weren’t having fun that week.  I told him in no uncertain terms to NEVER do it again, regardless of the time of month.  NEVAH NEVAH NEVAH.

Or else I’d perform a MANogram on him.

It hasn’t happened since.  *evil grin*

4 Comments

Size Matters: Theory of Relativity {Kisha}

Categories: Guest Posts | Tags: , , ,

I’m hella busy, yo. HELLA BUSY. So, I am enlisting the help of some of my fave (old & new) bloggers to fill up my space and give you interesting, fresh content here while I’m off banging my head against a wall. Or doing WordPress Design. It could be either. Or both.

First up is Kisha, who blogs at In Through the Out Door, a site I just recently discovered (and now subscribe to) via Girl Talk Thursday. She offered me the choice of writing something serious, funny or risque, and OBVIOUSLY I picked risque. ;-)   Oh, and put down your Diet Coke before you get to the end, your laptop won’t appreciate the spit-take!

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Dudes.  I am SO excited to be here, guest posting for my chick Mommy Geekology.  I love me some geeks…my hubby is an electrical engineer, and actually has said, out loud, “You can’t spell Geek without EE!”  He is so lucky he makes a lot of money, seriously.

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I was a late bloomer.  That may be surprising to those who know me, considering what a slut I am how sexually open I am.  But I didn’t start messing around with boys until my junior/senior year of high school, and didn’t lose my virginity until I was 19.

The first guy I was with was my first everything…you name the base, he was the first to round it with me.  And since I wasn’t much of a porn fan, I had a VERY limited knowledge of the male anatomy.  I knew what it did, and how to make it do what it did, but that was about it.

Because of this limited knowledge, I was unaware of what was considered small, and what was considered large.  I did know, however, that my boyfriend liked to receive oral and that I was basically a head goddess.  I could deep throat that thing until the cows came home.  I just figured I was born with a natural talent.  Some people are singers, some people are athletes, some people are exceptional at giving head.  Whatevs.  Whenever we’d be getting really into it, he would always say, “take it all, baby, take it all!”  And I would be thinking, “oh yes I will because I am AWESOME!”

Fast forward a few years.  We broke up, I was ready to sow some wild oats and basically get my slut on see what else was out there.  I went to a bar one night, picked out a dude who was to my liking, let him get me drunk, then took him home.  Rawr.  We get in the bedroom, clothes start coming off, I unzip his pants and my chin drops to the floor.  ”Holy shit, that thing is huge!” I exclaimed.  Looking back, it was probably only a bit above average, but compared to what I had been broken in on…wow.  Not only did I give him an ego boost he still probably carries around to this day, I gave myself a jaw ache for the ages.

After confiding in some girlfriends, and whoring around some more doing some research with cute boys, I finally had enough data to come up with a baseline.  Boyfriend had been tiny.  Pitifully tiny.  Three inches tiny.  Oh man.
Of course when I met Husband, I told him this story.  Because nothing makes your current man more secure than telling him how pathetic your previous men had been.  He laughed, said he wasn’t surprised, and me and his python effed for hours.  Fabulous.  And it turns out I am a head goddess even with normal sized men.  Yay!

So Husband and I get married, and we came back to my hometown for a visit after the ceremony.  We end up at a bar with a bunch of my old friends, including Boyfriend.  I think Boyfriend was still a little butthurt over me marrying someone else, and has always been the type to show off.  So he comes over and buys the whole table a round of shots, and asks Husband to make the toast.   Husband raises his shot glass and says, “Take it all, baby.  Take! It! All!”

Thank god he said that before the shot was in my mouth, or there would have been duck fart sprayed all over everyone at my table.  And yes, not only does he have a big dick, he’s got the sense of humor to match.

6 Comments

Speaking of no consquences… {Link to Tutorial}

Categories: featured | Tags: , , , ,

This morning I stumbled on Marlen James Photography – boudoir diary.  I want this woman’s job. She takes photographs of naked (or near naked) people. Seriously. That is her job and dammit I want it. Her most recent post is a tutorial of sorts – how to take a decent “boudoir pic” (<— Yes, that means NAKED or at least in some fine underthings) of yourself without Photoshopping. If it doesn’t come out well, she’s offering her services to Photoshop the pic yourself (if you’re brave enough to send it to her!) for $10 each, which could be the cheapest gift that you give to your lovah this year, and the most appreciated. If you’re in Canada, you might be able to get this chick to do the shoot for free.

Since this is a lot cheaper than a surround sound system, you can bet what I’ve got planned for my husband this year. For every gift-giving occasion. Father’s Day? Naked pictures of your wife. Easter? Naked pictures of your wife. 4th of July? Naked pictures of your wife. Winter Solstice? Naked pictures of your wife.

You get the idea.

Anyway, head on over and read her quick & easy tutorial. It’s simple, but she offers a few tips and, most importantly, shares some damn sexy photos of herself. So you’ve got two poses to emulate, too! Unfortunately what she doesn’t explain is how to set the timer and get yourself over to the bed to pose while practicing self-bondage… anyone got a tutorial for that?

I won’t Photoshop your pictures, but feel free to send them to me, too. Or better yet? Submit that shit anonymously or otherwise to Boob Emancipation. OMG. Please. Yes. Now. Why is your shirt still on?!

6 Comments

Delurker Day {because I love you}

Categories: featured | Tags: ,

So, we’re mostly all bloggers here. Not all of you blog, I’m sure, but a good deal of you do, in fact, bloggity blog blog your little heart away. And that means you’ve probably played that game where you look at your Feedburner stats, and your various page rankings, and your visitor tally from your stats, and the number of average comments on each post, and grabbed a calculator and a calendar and your old grammar school math textbooks in a desperate attempt to figure out JUST HOW MANY PEOPLE are reading. Because it matters, even if it’s only a little. We want to know. We’re putting ourselves out here, we want to know!

So.

I’m totally joining in on Rude Cactus’ Delurking Day 2010 today and asking – if you read here, regularly or sporadically, just say Hi in the comments. :) If you want to say more, cool. If you are a person of few words, that’s fine too. And if you have a blog that is public? PuhLEASE tell me about it, mkay?

delurker2010

27 Comments

{From the Vault}

Categories: featured | Tags: , , ,

I’d like to extend a warm welcome to Elizabeth of Boy Crazy [finding clarity in the chaos]. She had a heartbreak tale to tell for Girl Talk Thursday, but posting on her own blog wasn’t idea, so I’ve pulled up an extra virtual chair and let her be an author in this space for a day. Please keep all comments about this post right here, but make sure you visit her blog to see what else she has going on!

When Elizabeth wrote this, she was scribbling into a (possibly) tear-stained journal at 19 years old. She’s typed it up and published it here for our literary enjoyment. I’m so impressed with how eloquent she is!

Don’t forget to visit Girl Talk Thursday and check out the rest of the participants’ stories too!

~ xoxo MommyGeek

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(From the Vault)
July 13, 1997

We sat on the bench at the end of the dock. It was around 1:30 in the morning, but we were wide-awake. We chatted for a while about the movie, using small talk to avoid the  conversation that was lingering in the early morning air. I’m not sure if he sensed the urgency, but I felt so strongly that we needed to talk that a thick, heavy pressure squeezed my chest.

I asked him a question to lead us down the road we needed to go, but he sidestepped. Before he could take his tangent farther, I stepped in. The irritation and haste in my voice was more obvious than I intended, but I needed to make my point. He had succeeded at masking his recognition of our problem, but once I started talking he couldn’t hold back. He was on his feet in a matter of seconds; his face and body betraying his frustration before he even spoke.

I looked up at him, his features blurred through my tears. I wiped my eyes and nose with my sleeve, his borrowed shirt. I listened to him and watched his body against the midnight sky. The stars were sharp and bright behind his head, a backdrop for our act.

We argued back and forth, my captive tears finally set free. Two bodies, but one mind; we wrestled with the same fears and doubts. While I was relieved to know we felt the same, it stung to hear his doubts vocalized.

He sat down next to me, but too far away. I felt like we were actors in a play, that everything was over-dramatized. The waves washed over the pier, soaking my sandals. The water was much higher this year. I looked up. Thick clouds were creeping in and swallowing big swaths of the starry sky.

I moved closer to him, linking my arm through his and resting my head on his shoulder. I could feel his tension.

It isn’t supposed to be like this, he said. We should be returning from a movie, happy and in love, sitting on the dock seeing the same shooting stars. Everything should be picture perfect.

In awe of the irony, I sat silent, listening to the distant thunder rumbling its warning of the brewing storm. We sat for a few minutes, needing to speak but having nothing to say. Finally, he went inside, leaving our conflict unresolved.

I walked back towards the cottage, but I sat at the picnic table outside the door. In the dark, I cried with my head down on my folded arms on the tabletop. I cried for the confusion and for the understanding. I cried for the past I wanted back and for the future I feared. I cried for the present, upon which everything depended.

I don’t know how long I sat at that table. My eyes were heavy with sadness and sleep. Standing up, I looked at the sky, searching for at least one survivor star.

But they had all disappeared.

As I headed up the stone steps, I heard another rumble of thunder, but this time louder and closer. It was only beginning, and this could be one hell of a storm.

3 Comments

They Say it's Your Birthday

Categories: General, making memories | Tags: , ,

So, Renee – Happy Birthday to you from all of us!

Note: The below video is embarrassing. It’s me singing. Yes. Me. Singing. Please note that I’ve been quite sick and I have crap in my throat. Also? It’s late. And I worked my f*cking ass off today because my inlaws are coming and please god don’t make fun of me k?

Love you babe. Have a wonderful, amazing 40th. And for the record? You’re hawt. Don’t ever, ever forget it.

Yeah, I just posted that video. I love ya that much. MUAH.

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