This weekend was a damn fine weekend to live in St Louis. Chris had his fake football draft all day Saturday. I was going to work in the garden because it is a hot mess that I have a lot of shame over, but then I succumbed to peer pressure, as I so often do, and headed to LouFest.
LouFest is an unfortunately-named first-year music festival held in St Louis’s crown jewel, Forest Park, where Chris and I got married. The lineup was impressive (She&Him, Broken Social Scene, Lucero, Built to Spill, Jeff Tweedy), but not packed with bands we actively follow and love. Normally, we would have totally been down for going both days, but we ultimately decided not to spend the money on two-day passes for both of us. It seemed like my entire Twitter feed was going, though, and Friday I just decided to go for it and told my boy Mike D. that I was going to join him on Saturday. → continue reading
Thank you to everyone who commented on my questioning Catholicism post. For the most part, things stayed respectful and I appreciate everyone who shared their personal stories. You guys rock. For the sake of fairness, the Christians are next, because I just watched Waiting for Armageddon and that noise will stop you dead in your tracks. My friend Christine e-mailed me and said, “You know who I feel bad for in the whole Catholic scam…Jesus. That dude has a lot of fucked up shit happening in his name and he’s not even around to be like, “Hey. Don’t do that. Thanks, bro.” And that’s how I feel about Waiting for Armageddon, but with the Christians. It’s on Netflix Watch Instantly if you want to prepare yourself for my eventual rant. I was raised Lutheran, which is totally Catholic-lite and not really into fear-based end-times chatter, but I’ve read some of the Left Behind books (shut it, I was in high school/early college) and so I have opinions, and they involve Kirk Cameron. → continue reading
So my friend is getting married in the Catholic church, and, as part of the activities you have to complete in order to do so, she had to go to a natural family planning class. If you don’t live in the Catholic Capitol of the US, like I do, you might not know that NFP is like the Catholic version of birth control. You can google it if you want more details.
ANYWAY, apparently the class at this particular parish is led by a nice married couple who asked the class what were the three ways a couple could avoid conception. According to the people teaching the class on the sexin’, those methods are: → continue reading
My trip to New York was a whirlwind of awesome. That pretty much sums it up.
There are fewer things better for the mind and soul than having high hopes that people you admire will like you back should you meet them and those hopes coming true. I think many of us still hold on to feelings of rejection from middle school or high school, and those can resurface at events like BlogHer. And when people aren’t snobs, and instead embrace you willingly, with arms oustretched, and shower you with positive thoughts, well, it’s nice. It’s better than nice. It’s fan-fucking-tastic. I finally met so many awesome, amazing people I’ve been sharing my life with online, and they were smarter, and funnier, and more intelligent and fun than I thought possible. And when I met these people, they gave me giant, genuine, real hugs. The level of positivity and emotional generosity is unlike anything I’ve experienced.
We just spent a few days up at Clear Lake in northern Iowa with my family.We rented a house on the lake, just like we did in Blackduck, Minnesota two years ago, and cruised around on a pontoon while drinking beer and making pathetic attempts at catching fish (except for my dad; he caught fish). We didn’t get to town until almost midnight on Friday, as Chris had a workshop all day and we got caught in some crazy rainstorms that send many a less-fearless driver to the shoulder. Of course, we pull up, and Big Ed is waiting in the street to direct us in, despite the fact that I had received no less than three texts from my sister-in-law about Ed falling asleep in his camp chair. Midnight is really past Big Ed’s bedtime, for reals, but his love for directing parking is limitless. → continue reading
Begin staining process. Convince husband that he really has to do the staining himself because you would mess it up.
Start to believe it yourself.
Realize this process is taking four times as long as you had planned.
Feign normalcy by inviting friend and three-year old daughter over to lunch in the basement. Reassure three-year old, upon urinating on the floor, that she wasn’t the first to pee on the floor that day.
Resume role filling scratches and holes with wood putty because you are an equal partner in this project.
Go ladycamping while husband stays behind to stain. Decorate your own coozie and drink vodka-spiked Capri Suns. Talk about periods.
Realize giant pimp tent is less claustrophobic than basement, smells better.
Return to beautiful, untouchable floors.
Clean up basement dog pee, vomit, poop, and shredded personal items.
Repeat #9.
Repeat #10
Referee countless rounds of Basement Dog Thunderdome.
Thank Baby Jesus for awesome husband as he seals the floors.
Agree to do all tangential helper-type activities until floors are finished.
Do that shit with a smile.
Relax in clean, fresh, carpet-free bedroom. Breathe.
Please to ignore our bare bedroom. We’ve only moved essentials thus far. More pics on Flickr.
**If you are not going to BlogHer, or do not care about BlogHer, or think us ladybloggers are nutso, this is probably not the post for you. Go look at this instead.***
Dear Baby Jesus, the interwebs blew up this week with BlogHer hubbub. It was like the announcement of the Voices of the Year was some kind of signal for everyone to start freaking out about the conference all at once.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m stoked. I’m pumped. I can’t wait.
Great things happen at BlogHer. At its heart, the BlogHer conference is about celebrating the writing of women and the community that surrounds those women. And that’s why I go. I have always been a writer and I will always be a writer; it’s something I do for myself because I love it. The internet allows women writers from all over the world to engage with and support each other. It’s a little like college: no matter who you were in high school, you can find your niche. You just have to look hard enough. And I’ve been fortunate enough to make several real life friends across many niches from my experiences blogging. → continue reading
I was totally humbled and thrilled to be named a finalist in the Life category for this year’s BlogHer Voices of the Year contest. I may have peed a little. For those non-BlogHers, members submit posts in one of five categories that they feel were the best posts they’ve read over the past year. Each category is narrowed down to 20 or so finalists, then three are chosen to read at the Community Keynote at the annual BlogHer conference. → continue reading
Sunday I turned 30. Truth be told, I have relatively little anxiety about it. I was too damn stressed last Thursday and Friday, what with the complete failure of my hard drive on Thursday and (delayed) travel to school on Friday. I have a lot of friends who are older than me, which must be because I’m so mature I pronounce it matoor, so it just wasn’t that big of a deal. I’m lucky to have the life that I have; it’s a damn good one. And, I lost 15 pounds in the last three months.→ continue reading
This weekend was a damn fine weekend to live in St Louis. Chris had his fake football draft all day Saturday. I was going to work in the garden because it is a hot mess that I have a lot of shame over, but then I succumbed to peer pressure, as I so often do, and headed to LouFest.
