Blogher Vs Gnomedex

While I was both jealous and full of envy regarding the BlogHer conference yesterday...I did enjoy the uploads, comments, chat, and live blogging that took place.

There was one thing I really wanted to comment on. Look at the pictures on Flickr tagged Gnomedex vs those tagged for Blogher. These are totally different sorts of pictures. Pictures of PowerPoint projections at Gnomedex. Pictures of women, their FACES at BlogHer. (as opposed to the backs of heads at Gnomedex.) It speaks to what women value.

One could look at these pictures at BlogHer and be squeamish about purses, jewelry, shoes and the like. First thought "Do they have to be such girls?" Look beyond that though...it is about the participants personality...who she is...not about what she owns. It is about the face behind the voice. Voices are only as good as the person behind them. Women in particular are said to learn from seeing expressions, faces...that which is oft missing from online interaction. BlogHer brought faces, expression and personality behind blogging.

Blogging lost visuals yesterday though...it lost the visual that showed white men wearing all relatively the same uniform are bloggers. It also lost the visual that the important conference information is held by few, conveyed by a presentation, on a screen. I am not sorry to see those crumble. It was a joy even from afar to see women, many different sorts of women. Women I agree with, women I don't agree with and women I had not heard of before yesterday all were PART of Blogher. Not just audience. I have to say I am loving every moment of the giddiness, excitement, action and most important the changes INTERACTION made yesterday and for probably years to come. Thank you BlogHer...for the visual reminder of the joys of women in community.

blogher

Skater Babe....err Mom

I took the girls skating yesterday. Gearing up for it was not fun. I felt a bit under the weather, a storm was on its way, we had done other fun mommy vacation stuff so the promised skating didn't seem to hold appeal...for me...but fantasy mom kicked in and off to the rink we went. Besides that I like skating, don't I? Isn't that why I started taking the children?

2 Buses from the Y in the parking lot. Thoughts of a quiet-ish skating rink were dashed.

I rented my skates. Sat putting them on thinking why wasn't I one of the other moms who sat and read a book or did computer stuff while supervising skating children. But I was there and skates were on. Start skating...1/4 of the way through the first time around with children zipping by and my desk jockey legs screaming, I was still wondering even as my wee one waited grinning. Soon enough I was skating.

Those of you new to wee hours or who haven't paid attention...I am incredibly clumsy. On my FEET (also sitting, in bed, etc). I am also clumsy skating. I never learned the crossover thing that is apparently a must for turning and I don't know how to brake. But, I really love skating. Let me tell you why...

I think better in motion. Let me drive a car...fast highway driving...or ride a bike...or skate and I can THINK. One of the things I thought as I pondered the fact that I think better skating is that if I was a child today, I would probably be on some sort of medication. Instead I had a mother who was always telling me to stop diddling (one of her wide range of terms for fidgeting) tapping, getting up, kicking, tapping, fidgeting. Go play outside. One of my children also is this way but she has the same ability as I had to just appear to be still even when in motion at school. Of course this takes the form of daydreaming and reading. (reading is a physical activity for the two of us...don't ask, we won't be able to tell)

Skating is a different sort of motion. It requires me to: a. trust that I am not going to fall and geez the ground is way far away. b. Count. Some of you may know I can't count but I do count in skating. lift foot 1...2. Lift foot 1...2. The focus that this requires keeps my brain moving in one direction instead of the 5000 directions it goes in at once. (like it is now while I try to figure out how to explain skating magic)

No, I am not graceful. Yes, I sometimes fall...though not yesterday...but all in all...skating is a good thing. The best thing about skating as a grown up is that my girls are with me, having fun.

Life Lessons

Average Jane: Average Jane's Life Lessons

I completely agree on the typing thing though I never could type 88 wpm. I am forever telling the story of my father and the typing thing.

The high thread count sheets, yes, definitely. I tend to prefer Overstock.com or Bed, Bath and Beyond. (the plus is that you can go fondle the sheets before you buy or when you are just wandering the store.)

Salon shampoos though...well...if it was just the shampoo then no. But what Salon shampoo is in this house is a memory, an experience, a scent and a gift meant to woo. The smell of Rosemary Mint Aveda on wet hair is the scent of love, romance and very very special. The scent that lingers in the dry hair is the scent of bedtime, of naked skin and long hair in my face.

My bizarre ricochet from salon shampoo to suave to head and shoulders to whatever is cheap back to salon shampoo is of course insane and no, probably not worth the salon shampoo but a woodsy scent, scientific looking hair care or whatever grabs me during one of the few times I spend money on myself.

Things I have learned:
Trust that the only person who will never in a million years do that to you doesn't exist.

Things everybody knows may be things only you know.

Women don't need to carry purses to be prepared for every contingency.

alembic: free fall

alembic: free fall
I need to add this to the library list. Sounds like just the thing to tame the books bouncing in my head...

Charleston and Me...

Lee has put Charleston on my mind. Lee dislikes it but Charleston doesn't necessarily hit me the same way. You see, long before I visited Charleston as an adult...I felt like I had been there, had lived there. Because of my indiscriminate reading habits I had read more than my fair share of books with Charleston. My mind was filled with the rattle of carriages, women as proper as they were wicked, snippets of Gullah, the rhythm of words, the taste of the food.

Aside from the books, there was my love. Especially during the early getting to know you portion of our lives together, long conversations were begun about her Charleston upbringing. Through her words I filled in a more modern Charleston. The carriages gave way to cars, the rambler that braved the Grace Bridge, and the disputed car from grandma. Malls, schools, skating rings (never rinks but rings) joined the slave market and milliner. Bars no longer were the home of gentlemen and scallywags but of a young woman learning of beach volleyball and choices.

My Christmas gift a couple years back was a childfree trip to her hometown. We did the tourist thing - carriage ride, ghost tour, wandering the streets of the historic district. We also roamed to see her childhood neighborhood and haunts of a more modern sort than the ones on the ghost tour.

Charleston isn't perfect, it isn't even honest about its imperfections. The subtext of the carriage tours and what the docents say is clear to those who have spent many a year in the thrall of docents and historians. It is a southern city, with a people who are bittersweet about its past. Charleston is The Holy City that tries to buy its indulgences (of the type bought in the 1500s) but not really changing. The slums are near the mansions. The color lines are drawn. Life in Charleston goes on as it has for hundreds of years. It is a town where "everybody knows" but no one says. It is a town where they know there is a lot to be proud of and a town where they work to make new things that even their grandchildren can be proud of without the whitewash. It is a southern city reinventing while trying to retain its heritage.

I suppose that is why even before I went to Charleston as an adult, it felt like home. I am glad it felt like home even when I arrived. I like to think that like Charleston, I have some of my past to be proud of, some that I whitewash, some that I turn into something good, some of my past still shows and probably always will, but like Charleston it doesn't keep me from going forward, building something my children and grandchildren look on with pride.

Take Your Daughter to Work Day

I suppose I should do this right. I know how to post, really. Just fell out of love with it and fell out of the habit. But the time has come. So onward...

Take your daughter to work day...silly holiday really. But it is currently my children's summer holiday break and for the first time in my life, I have an office of my own. We loaded up the car this morning, three kids still struggling with jet lag, two women struggling with the under-suggested diagnosis at Webmd of "crud complicated by galloping whatever" on the way to drop off Mommy at work. First stop: Starbucks. Morning ritual + 3 drinks. Next stop: Krispy Kreme for promised on Monday donuts(not a usual morning ritual). Then to drop Mommy off, about a block from work, RJ is informed she is going with Mommy. Pre-planned but unknown to the children. YAY!

At the drop-off point we exited the car and went up to my office. Unlocked the doors, sat the backpack down, coffee down, took the cokes to the fridge. Then back to the office. RJ commented on the nice office, then sat down with her book. I went to work...figuring out what went wrong with the website during my two days off.

Soon...my replacement, G, from the position I had prior to this one came in. She was in a flurry. Everyone wants G to find stuff and she doesn't know where and her supervisors keep saying "But TW knows", "Go ask TW", "TW was so smart, why can't you be like TW?" Sigh. RJ sat quietly and got an earful. I explained part of it to G; told her the other part wasn't my department at all and she would have to talk to the IT guy to get the program she needed on her computer. Mostly I explained and G took notes.

Then other co-workers paraded in asking for assistance. (not unusual). By lunch time RJ had read 2 books. She was so quiet reading that I was wishing that when I shared a cubicle it had been with her. We got up every hour or so to stretch. If we ran into someone in the hall she greeted them politely. Then back to work... We had lunch at the Union. RJ was amused at my tour of the food court, though she thanked me for it. She chose the steamed noodle bowl with beef and Chinese veggies. I chose the three side plate next door, where I purchased the medium sodas which came in a HUGE cup. This was so noteworthy she saved the cup to show her brother. Back to work, she went back to reading and playing with the Da Vinci flip cube. Then onto her summer "fun" Step into Fourth grade workbook. We, late in the day, went down the hall to visit the best candy in the department. She chatted amiably about her recent trip to Vancouver, the Four Seasons, Ziptrekking with the department head. Then chatted about our pets with the head secretary. All in all a nice day.

Of course that all is the set up. The important part is about me. No, of course it isn't but it is...taking my daughter to work taught me a lot. RJ pointed out things I don't notice. She pointed out that my co-workers think I am really smart and nice. She pointed out that people don't come into my office, send me emails desperate to know why they can't make something work, because they are too lazy to figure it out or to dumb...but because they know I can help them and will help them, even if it throws off my day. She didn't say that (because of course I do not growl when people come in or send email) but this is what she was getting at when she was rambling about how smart people thought I was and how nice I was to help them. She pointed out how many friends I have, (even though I normally will say I don't have work friends) etc. My social child noticed everything. "Did you notice how happy she was you showed her what to do?" No baby, I didn't. It is a job; a job I do because it is what I convinced enough people I knew how to do, even though many days I am not sure I really can do my job. It pays the bills, sort of. It isn't perfect but no job is...but no, I hadn't noticed. I don't tell her that though. I just smile and say, she is a nice woman, isn't she. I think, but you my middle child are both really smart, really nice and I hope you stay that way.

PC Turnoff Week

PCTurnoff Organization

Don't most parents set limits for computer use? Isn't it overstating things to state that children's computer use leads to stress filled family life?

It all seems a bit alarmist to me. No, children shouldn't spend all day at the computer but I don't think they should spend all day doing anything.

2 story Starbucks

Mmm Starbucks on Flickr - Photo Sharing!

This two story Starbucks appears to be in Tokyo. Wonder if we will ever have 2-story Starbucks somewhere we drink coffee? How long do you think it takes to get coffee? Do you think they remember regular customers' drink orders?