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The Bush is Back and Pubic Hair is Everywhere
Ladies, have you heard? The BUSH is back! I don’t mean of the George W. or George Herbert or any other kind of political bush. I am talking about full-on 1970’s au natural pubic region BUSH! I write that in all caps because I was born in 1972, hit puberty in the 80’s and I don’t think I have ever grown in more than a landing strip. Bush is a big deal. It’s a game changer. Going back to bush is like a giant “Eff You!” to sexist mainstream society. It’s bra burning for 2014.
If you want proof that pubic hair is back in vogue, just watch last night’s episode of Girls in which Gaby Hoffman was rocking a way over grown, gratuitous bush. I was a little shocked to see a bush on the television because you just don’t see that. Then there was the American Apparel mannequins and recent interviews in which Cameron Diaz proclaimed that she is going back to her au natural state as did Gwyneth Paltrow. Looks like the over 40 set has decided to forgo the Brazilian and just see what happens.
Oh.MY.GOD.Becky, Look at that BUSH!
That is exactly what would have been heard round the locker rooms in the 80’s had anyone thought to go rogue and grow a full on 1970’s porn bush. I would have been laughed out of high school. It was bad enough my dad wouldn’t let me shave my legs and I had to rock tube socks to hide that fact. There was no way I was growing out a pubic area afro. I didn’t care how bad it itched when it grew back in or hurt when you got an ingrown hair, I didn’t even mind the lip slip of 1989. That was a close one, I almost lost a labia. But I survived with no bush and became stronger because of it.
Look if you were born in the 80’s, I am pretty sure that you have never seen a true full on bush unless you walked in on your grandma in the shower. Well, maybe if you are Amish, I am assuming that since you aren’t allowed to use zippers, razors are forbodden, as well. In which case, you know the bush and the tube socks, all to well.
I’ve been landscaping my nether regions since they began to grow in.I had no choice. It was what was expected. My pubic region has looked prepubescent for so many years that I’m not even sure if I could grow a full on bush. I mean, it kind of explains why my boobs took so long to grow in. If they were waiting for the pubic hair to come in fully as a sign to grow, I can see where the confusion came in.I suppose there are some benefits to a bush if you are over 50, to hide the wrinkles but then you would have gray hairs, right? That’s got to age you.
To be honest, with this new fad of full bush coming back, I am a little afraid that I will be completely out of style because it’s been so long since I have had any pubic hair, I may be in for quite the surprise like those men who purposely shave themselves bald in their 20’s as a fashion statement only to find in their 30’s that their hair will not grow back in and they are, in fact, now unintentionally bald. I’m afraid I may have landscaped myself right out of style in 2014.
Oh well, let’s be honest. I am not really too keen on the whole idea of bush anyways. I personally don’t relish the thought of looking like I have a midget with an afro in a headlock between my legs and not to be TMI,(though I just wrote an entire post on pubic hair) but some of us are just hairier than others. The thought of catching pubic hair on the sticky side of a panty liner sounds excruciating. I’m not even sure that I have panties equipped to handle a full bush. That sounds like a job for a younger girl with bigger panties and don’t even think about going commando with a bush because I am pretty sure that getting that thing caught in a zipper would be like pulling nose hairs.
But all joking aside, a woman’s beauty should never be wrapped up in what is between her legs and certainly not in its packaging. Hair grows on our bodies for a reason ( well, everything except for the upper lip hair I’m sure that’s just a cruel joke) and why would we want our women’s bodies to look like little girls? Hair is a personal thing, some of us like it long and some of us like it short and some like none at all. I say, do whatever makes YOU feel beautiful and whether that means being bald or wearing a thick, full afro between your legs, go on with your bad self!
So if you want to be in vogue in 2014, burn your bras, back away from the wax and razors and don your natural bush because baby, the bush is back.
What do you think of the new fashion of women growing in their body hair? Will you love the bush or leave it?
2014/01/20
How to Easily Make the Perfect Halloween Dia De Los Muertos Costume
Halloween and Dia de Los Muertos are only a few days away.
Last weekend was our city’s annual Fright Night and Zombie walk. My daughters have been wanting to participate for the past 3 years but we’ve felt they were too young to be immersed in the middle of all of those “zombies” so we’ve been watching from the sidelines. This year, we decided would be the year that we all walked “amongst the dead”. They were zombies and I was la Calavera Catrina, recognized as a sugar skull.
My husband and girls dressed as authentic walking dead zombies. My husband was a typical zombie ironically wearing a blood smeared “Be Kind to the Earth” t-shirt with a vintage plaid flannel. I guess he was going for hipster zombie look.
My 9-year-old was a prom queen zombie. Luckily her ballet rehearsal was done in just enough time to get home, change into her “prom” dress and dead face. My littlest one was the cutest dead school girl ever.
My little brother and I chose to go in a different direction. I love the Walking Dead but I just can’t make myself drag my legs and growl at people so my brother dressed as a sugar skull and I dressed as the Grand Dame of Dia De Los Muertos, la Calavera Catrina. The best part? Everything I needed was in my closet.
Here is how to apply the Dia de Los Muertos make-up and pull together a costume that will make heads turn.
I think it turned out awesome!
1. 1. Begin with an even layer of the Ben Nye Clown White make-up all over the entire face, except the eye sockets, with a sponge, and set with powder. You can buy setting powder at the Halloween shop but, honestly, baby powder works just as well. It is important to set the color with the powder, because the black lines and color on top may get smudged unless you place a barrier in between. Seriously, your face will look like it is melting off if you don’t and who wants to go through all that time painstakingly applying make-up only to have it slide right off your face?
    Next, I sculpted the perimeter of my eye socket with a black liquid eyeliner, it’s much easier to use than regular black face make-up and it lets you be more precise with your lines. Then intensify the area by blending a matte black shadow in the same hue over the top of the entire eyelid and filling in the drawn socket.
    For the detailing, pick up a black liquid liner with a precise tip, and draw an upside-down heart on the nose, the two rows of scalloping, connected by a circular motion, that surrounds the eyes and the two small circles on either side of my cheek bones. Mark out seven lines in a V-shape on your forehead. I made a jewel in the middle of mine, you can too or not, whatever you choose. Connect the lines with curved shapes to create a spider web.
    Use the same liquid liner to draw the two lines on your cheeks and draw a rose on your chin.
    Use a color wheel of your choice to fill in the scalloping around your eyes, your jewel and any other designs on your face that need color. I set the color with more translucent powder, not too much, just enough to keep the color from running.
    Moving on to the lips, I wanted red lips so I used my Red Chanel lipstick to draw in my lips. Then with the black liquid eyeliner, I drew in the intersecting lines across my lips. I let all lines dry well and then went over with liquid eyeliner again.
    With the liquid liner, add a few dotted details over the face, and a flower on your chin. Touch up individual areas with the color palette of your choice as needed, and after a few coats of mascara, I used fake-eyelashes to give my eyes a little extra umph.
For the hair, I simply washed my hair and dried it curly. Teased it. Pulled it to a curly, side pony tail and then added two oversized red roses behind my ears, which I held in with bobby pins. You could also opt for a headband with flowers on it.
To finish the look, I shopped my closet. Sometimes being a Latina with a dad who retires to Mexico 8 months a year has its advantages. I wore a long black skirt, a white peasant blouse with red, yellow and green roses from Mexico as my blouse, an ornate, traditional Kelly green velvet apron with gold scalloping and bright gold shawl. It came together perfectly but, honestly, the make-up makes the costume.
What are you dressing up as for Halloween?
Do you celebrate Dia de Los Muertos?
2014/10/27
In Honor of the 2014 Sochi Olympics
The Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics started last night and I couldn’t think of a better way to commemorate the event than by sharing this amazing video of 1000’s of Kentucky State High School Choir singers singing the American Anthem on the Balcony of the Hyatt Louisville. I only wish I could have seen it in person. As it is, my heart swelled with patriotism and for a few short minutes I forgot about all the bad in the world this week. This is super cool.
In case you missed it earlier this week, I tackled the #SpeakAmerican debacle. If you are in the mood for something less controversial, I gave you the low down on how to make some mommy friends ( because Lord knows, we all need them) and if you want a giggle ( because we all do) I wrote about Old Wives Tales of Pregnancy like wearing red panties during an eclipse to protect your unborn baby or if you are in the mood for a good cry, I wrote this about loss on HuffPo.
2014/02/07
Forgot My Phone & Remembered How to Live
Forgot my phone and realized that I am too dependent on it. I felt naked and awkward. I felt lost and unsure; insecure. I hide behind my phone. My phone has become a crutch, especially in my line of work. It has replaced my eyes, my ears, my brain, my voice, my memory and my attention. I have become so dependent on capturing everything that happens in my life for posterity that I am missing it in real-time. I have become so accustomed to instant gratification that there are no more great surprises and the real, genuine moments are few and far between. If they do happen, they are often missed only to be seen in retrospective playback.
Our phones have become a barrier between us and living in the moment. We’ve all developed such intense cases of FOMO that we are, in fact, missing out on the really important things like honest conversations, human connections, true love, trust and firsts.
I don’t want to miss another minute of my life or view it through a screen. I want to look directly into the eyes of my child as she says something, anything, to me. I want to hear her when she speaks not when I play it back. I don’t want to miss the moments for one more moment. This video by Charlene deGuzman reminded me of that.
I am committing to walking away and turning off the social media, computers and phones when I am with my family. When I am with them, those few hours every day after school until their bedtime, I will be 100% present. I owe them that. I owe me that.
I want to experience my life not document it for someone else to relive in some far off future.
I want my children to say my mother was present, she listened and she cared about it all. She loved me and I know it because she was there for all of it; paying attention and giving advice.
I want my husband to know that he is the most important person in the room with me and that when we are alone together talking, imagining our future, planning our life, it is just the two of us and not the entire Internet and there is nowhere else in the world that I would rather be.
I want my friends to know that I care about what they are saying and when I say that I am “here for them” I am really there for them, wherever that might be 100%. No more 1/2 listening with one eye on the Internet because nothing happening “out there” is more important than what is happening right here, next to me; a joke, a story, a laugh, a cry, a human experience.
Technology is a wonderful thing but it is no replacement for the human condition.I want my humanity in tact because without it, what are we?

2013/09/03
Mentally Ill Teen, Keith Vidal, Shot & Killed because Officer Had No Time for That
The family of 18-year-old, Keith Vidal, called their local police for help when their son was behaving erratically during a schizophrenic episode last Sunday night. The 18-year-old from Boiling Spring Lake, North Carolina, was first tasered by two police officers and on the ground when shot and killed by a third officer, Bryon Vassey, from the neighboring town of Southport.
According to this emotional video by Keith Vidal’s stepbrother, Mark Ryan Wilsey, Keith was recently diagnosed with Schizophrenia and was coping while dosing was being figured out.
Vidal’s father, Mark Wilsey, called the police Sunday night because his son was armed with an electric, six-inch screwdriver and was threatening his mother. According to the family the two officers had the situation under control, with the 100-pound Keith Vidal on the ground tasered, when Officer Vassey entered the premises and within 60 seconds said, “We don’t have time for this.” Then he shot Keith Vidal in the chest, killing him. I can’t get the disturbing image out of my head of someone putting down a lame dog.
Officer Vassey first said he was ‘defending himself,” only to later say through his lawyer he was defending another officer. How could deadly force be the only option when there are 3 officers and a Taser involved to subdue one skinny teenager?
My heart breaks for this family. Any person who has ever dealt with, loved with or been mentally ill knows that getting the right meds dosage is critical. Sometimes it takes months or even years to find the right dosage. Meds can alter your state of mind sometimes even worse than the mental illness itself.
This kid was 18-years-old and recently diagnosed. Can you imagine what a pill it is to swallow to be told that you have a mental illness and will be medicated for the rest of your life just to be “normal”? I can. When I was first diagnosed with Bipolar 1, I was at a point in my life where I had been ill for years with no help. No diagnosis. I felt irreparably broken. I felt alone and severed from everyone around me. I can’t even describe to you what it feels like to feel so broken. The closest I can compare it to would be like living in quick sand and you are being swallowed whole by the disease but the more you struggle to resist, to survive the deeper you sink and the more likely you are to lose yourself. It is terrifying because you don’t know why this is happening to you. Was it something you did or didn’t do?
When I finally got a diagnosis, I was terrified but relieved. Relieved that there was help to be had and to find that I wasn’t so broken as much as really bent. It was a struggle to get back to “normal”; whatever that is. I’m not sure I really know. Normal is relative, I suppose.
It took months of highs and lows. I was originally misdiagnosed as depressed and given enough anti-depressants to kill a horse, which made me ever increasingly manic. In the end, I was at the brink of psychosis. I saw madness. I felt it. Touched it. Lived it. It was the biggest part of me.
Eventually, anti-depressants were taken down to next to nothing; stabilizers and Ambien entered the picture. Where mania once ran rampant, now zombie like living: walking into walls and all-consuming lethargy had become part of who I was. After a few months, I was finally regulated and began to feel “normal” for the first time in years; maybe ever.
It all seems so cut and dry when you write it out but it’s not. The part I haven’t told you that before my medication dosage was right, I was highly erratic. I was like a ticking time bomb. What was going on inside my head was so distracting that it left me annoyed and irrationally angry with myself and everyone around me. Later, through therapy, I realized that the irritability was directly proportional to my mania. My body and mind were pissed off because no one ever turned the lights off. My body and mind were exhausted and there was no off switch to be had.
I did irrational things just to feel alive because I ALWAYS needed to feel alive; I drove fast, lived fast and never considered consequences. I teetered between feeling invincible and wanting to die. I drank a lot. I know now that I subconsciously did that to shut things off. It’s actually pretty common. I alienated family and friends because I overreacted to everything. Sometime between high school and college graduation, I had spun completely out of control. The insomnia was just fuel to the fire.
I fully accept responsibility for my behavior in those days though, honestly, I had no real control over a lot of it. I never wielded a weapon at my parents but I did throw a friend’s belongings off my balcony and came pretty damn close to tossing her as well during a particularly manic episode. I used to be quite good at pushing people away. I think I was afraid they’d see the real me and know something was “off ”. Even before I knew what it was, I knew something wasn’t right. I hoped and prayed that there was a reason for the behavior.
My whole point for this very long and drawn out story is that if you met me today, you’d know that I’m not the same person I was at 18, 21 or even 25. I am the mother of two, a wife, and even a room mother. I am just like you but maybe I wouldn’t be if someone decided that they had no time for me to get help; to learn to live with my diagnosis. Perhaps, this is the problem with the world, we resign ourselves to believe that those who are mentally ill are dangerous, less than or even worthless. We forget that they are people, just like you and I.Well, more like me than you, I suppose:) My point is that just because someone is mentally ill doesn’t mean they can’t be valuable members of society or good human beings. It only means that they might have a more difficult journey than the rest of us.
Officer Vassey might have been scared and felt threatened because sometimes in the midst of an episode, the person suffering looks scary. The fact remains that if two officers had Keith Vidal tasered on the ground, what possible reason could there have been to shoot him? Unlike me, Keith Vidal is dead and now, will never have the chance to learn to live with his disease; to grow up, to have a family, to be a dad or a husband.
What are your thoughts on this tragic story? What would you do if you were Keith Vidal parents?

2014/01/10
Is Your Religion Making You Stupid?
I’ve been doing a lot of praying over the past week and I have asked for your prayers and positive thoughts. Those prayers meant everything to me because I have a faith in God and I believe in the power of prayer. It gives me hope when otherwise, I would have none. It sustains me when otherwise I would give up. That means everything to me. So this morning while I was perusing Facebook and I came across an article shared by one of my friends titled Atheists ‘have higher IQs’: Their intelligence ‘makes them more likely to dismiss religion as irrational and unscientific’ it bothered me. I read the article and it argues …
“Atheists tend to be more intelligent than religious people, according to a US study. Researchers found that those with high IQs had greater self-control and were able to do more for themselves – so did not need the benefits that religion provides.
They also have better self-esteem and built more supportive relationships, the study authors said.
The conclusions were the result of a review of 63 scientific studies about religion and intelligence dating between 1928 and last year. In 53 of these there was a ‘reliable negative relation between intelligence and religiosity’. In just 10 was that relationship positive.
They defined intelligence as the ‘ability to reason, plan, solve problems, think abstractly, comprehend complex ideas, learn quickly, and learn from experience’.
In their conclusions, they said: ‘Most extant explanations (of a negative relation) share one central theme – the premise that religious beliefs are irrational, not anchored in science, not testable and, therefore, unappealing to intelligent people who ‘know better’.
‘Intelligent people typically spend more time in school – a form of self-regulation that may yield long-term benefits.
‘More intelligent people getting higher level jobs and better employment and higher salary may lead to higher self-esteem, and encourage personal control beliefs.’
Okay, so all of that being said, I am calling bullshit. I am religious and I am also intelligent. I don’t think that the two are mutually exclusive. And yes, I have proof that I am intelligent. I have graduate degrees and credible IQ scores. I have even taken theology courses on various religions but still, I believe in a God and my faith remains. This is why there is no conflict for me. At the core of my belief is that God created the universe and from there evolution happened. Time passed; people, the world and the universe have changed.
My faith was instilled when I was a small child. Yes, blind faith. I absorbed it all in and took it to my heart and gave myself over to it. I needed to believe there was something more. I’ve experienced hardships and I needed to believe in a savior if not, what was the point? Above all else, I believe that there is a God and through God, all things are possible. I see miracles every single day of my life and maybe they are all explainable by science but they are miracles to me nonetheless. Science and medicine are miracles to me. A baby being born is a miracle. Honest, raw, enduring, authentic, unconditional love is a damn miracle. The kindness of strangers is a miracle. All that being said, I know that man is only a man and I am cautiously skeptical of just about everyone.
Do I dismiss scientific facts? Not, at all. Do I dislike or judge atheists or people who are not of my own religion? No, because I also believe in choice and tolerance and everyone has their own choice to make. We live with our own choices so why should anyone else judge us? I judge people on how they behave and move through the world not by their labels. Many of my dearest friends and favorite people are Jewish, Hindi, Buddhists and every other religion and some of my friend’s don’t believe in God at all. Are they more or less intelligent than me? The answer is yes and yes because I don’t think your religious preference makes you intelligent or ignorant, your brain and nurturing do. How you act and behave with those beliefs is what determines that. Do I try to push my beliefs on anyone else? Never, because it’s a very personal. decision. Do I believe they will be damned or cast out of some afterlife utopia? No. I believe that God is tolerant and loving and I’m not dead so I have no proof about what happens after we die. Maybe we do just all go to the ground. Maybe we recycle and keep coming back until we get it right. Either way, I want to be kind to people. I want to live like every day is my last and I want them all to count, here on earth.
My faith in God is what gives me my faith in me. Through God all things are possible and through hard work and determination all things are possible for me. My faith is anchored in the belief that good people deserve good things. I know that life is not fair. I have experienced it first hand and I have questioned my faith. Believe me! But in the end, my faith is nourishment for my starving soul. My faith grants me serenity in this chaotic world of unpredictability.
My faith is based in my belief that doing the right thing is always right even if the other person chooses to reciprocate by doing the wrong thing to me, that is on them. I am only responsible for my actions and only accountable to my own conscience which maybe, that is what God really is, my moral compass. But when my fears and burdens are too great, faith allows me to hand them off to a higher place; to leave them on a shelf because worrying helps nothing. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t work to fix my issues first myself. I believe in modern medicine, working hard and doing good in the world. I believe in people. I trust in humanity. God helps those who help themselves.
I don’t expect to sit on my ass and hope for something/ someone to magically take care of me. For me, faith is hope. It is being able to have faith that good can come of even the worst of humanity. Having hope that when life looks dim and worthless, it can turn around. It helps me to see the good in people. How can that be bad or make me unintelligent? Naïve, maybe but I can’t believe that putting my faith in the good in people or the world is wrong.
Isn’t an atheist judging me to be ignorant because of my faith equally as offensive as a Christian judging an atheist to be the same for his lack there of?
2013/10/09
Mommy, I Want Another Baby
As I lay here cramping, a cruel reminder, stifling my tears as my 5-year-old brings up an old topic; one that we try not to discuss but has been lingering around my heart lately; the miscarriage we had last year.
It was this time last year that we conceived our third child. I know that. I’ve thought about it every day since Fat Tuesday but tonight, my 5-year-old asked me a simple question as she lay on my stomach and I read her a bedtime story, ” Mommy is there another baby in your tummy?” (more…)
2013/02/25
Horrifying Boston Marathon Bombing Kills Two,including an 8-year-old Boy
This Patriot’s Day the 117th Boston Marathon was bombed near the finish line. Today at 2:50 pm EST, 2 explosions went off 5- 15 seconds apart on the crowded streets in front or in the Marathon Sports Running center near the intersection of Boylston and Exeter Street leaving 23 injured and 2 dead, one an 8-year-old child, so far. The explosions happened 100- 150 yards apart. Most injured appear to be spectators. There were some 500,000 happy unsuspecting spectators waiting to cheer on their loved ones at the finish line. The 26,000 runners were running in honor of the Newton victims with a flag with 26 stars at the finish line. According to authorities, there was a third explosion at the JFK library. They are calling this an ongoing event and advising all Bostonians to stay at home and not to congregate in large crowds. I am shocked and horrified. (more…)
2013/04/15
#BlogHer13 was All about One Hug
As you might remember, for about a month and especially the week prior to my first ever BlogHer, I was quite the hot mess mentally. I was overthinking everything. I wasn’t necessarily nervous about going to the conference and being a newbie because I am not a newbie. I have been blogging for over 4 years and I was mostly having some anxiety about whether or not I would live up to what people were expecting. I know it sounds so high schoolish when I say it out loud. It is. High school is exactly what the anticipation of my first BlogHer felt like. Luckily, it was nothing like that.
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This is me, the first night of BlogHer13!
I am lucky because I have the good fortune of knowing a lot of people online and even more fortunate that they extended invitations to me to hang out in person. I will always be forever grateful for Tracy Beckerman for inviting me to a dinner on Wednesday night with a wonderful group of men and women that are not only funny, they are some of the most wickedly down-to-earth, awesomely humble rock stars I have ever met.
I was afraid that even though we’ve “known” one another “forever” online, they were going to take one good look at me and ask “Who the fuck are you?” Surprisingly, they did not. Each one grabbed my neck and hugged my genuinely and pulled back with a knowing smile and instead of feeling like an overwhelmed newbie, I felt like I was at a reunion, returning to my blogging home. I mean these people GET.ME! They.Really.Get.Me and let’s be honest, they know more about me than most people who I see everyday. I don’t give people I know the url to my diary. It doesn’t happen. That set the tone for my entire experience. It only took one hug.
Then my roomie showed up; the phenomenon that is Jenni Chiu; Vlogger Extraordinaire and wickedly awesome wordsmith. She got in late Wednesday night. I was asleep but promptly woke up when she walked in. The first thing I saw was her smiling face (now that I think of it, she was probably laughing because I was most likely snoring like a boss). She hugged me like a long lost sister and we talked into the wee hours of the night. We were instant best friends and it only took one hug.
Sure, there were parties, events, dinners and meetings but it all boiled down to one thing for me; being myself and leaving myself open to getting to know a whole lot of amazing women. Putting faces to voices, seeing the knowing in their eyes, people who know all your secrets and still read you and want to meet you is a beautiful thing.

There were a lot of awesome people and amazing things. I won’t name them all because honestly, I don’t want you to be jealous of all the fucking amazing women I got to spend 5 days in Chicago with. My experience is not your experience and yours is not mine and I am sure you had your own amazing women you spent your 5 days with.
But I did learn a few things:
Don’t over pack! Dear Lord, did I ever. Seriously, you don’t need to take 15 outfits for 5 days. And don’t pack more than 3 pairs of shoes but pack loads of undies because these are some funny people.
Unless you are photography blogger, leave your ginormous DSLR at home.
You do not need your laptop. I am a pen and paper kind of gal.
Bring lots of water.Lots.Of.Water!!!
Take more photos! I got so wrapped up in meeting people that I completely forgot to capture the moment in photos, which is good because they had my full attention but bad because now, I have no photos of their gorgeous faces.
Do not attend everything you are invited to. Honestly, I was triple booked every day all day long. I had to miss a lot. Pick what is a good fit for you and your blog and then focus on a few more intimate gatherings. Believe me the conversations that I had with women in the middle of the night in hallways and lobbies were awesome.
Swag is nice but it is NOT the reason to attend a conference. I prefer hugs and smiles, long conversations with new old friends over anything else.
Don’t drink too much. There were a lot of people trying to summons their liquid courage; it ended with dancing like Elaine from Seinfeld, slurring to complete strangers that you love them and crying in the bathroom. I don’t recommend it. I hear the morning after hangovers were epic.
Go to VOTY! It is the most important part of BlogHer. It is what we are all about; the writing. I hope.
Wear comfortable shoes!!! 5-inch heels have no place on the expo floor. Well, unless you are one of those awesome broads who has no feeling in her feet and can do that sort of thing. I, myself, have a tendency for my feet to mutiny and hyper-extend. Even in wedges, I wake up with punishing Charlie Horses in the middle of the night.
Give feedback! Don’t be a complainer, give BlogHer constructive feedback. For instance, I feel there should be an even more advanced track for bloggers who have been doing this for a long time. I also feel that a couple of my sessions that I really looked forward to, fell flat and were disappointing because the speaker didn’t focus on her topic. That was frustrating after a paid all that money to learn something particular and the speaker failed to share her knowledge in a helpful way.
Don’t be afraid to join the conversation. Say hi! None of us bite. I think by nature most of us are a little bit introverted (we work online from home, we are not the most outgoing people) but I swear, I will hug the shit out of you if you come up to me and tell me it’s nice to meet me, you read me or you follow me. Just ask Nicole.
Embrace the fan girl. We all have one and we all are one, on some level. We write online. For me, I write completely openly and honestly because, in my mind, I am alone on my computer but that actually creates a connection with my readers (your readers) as I found out this past weekend. So when a fan of your work comes up to you and squeals and squees about how great you are…grab that girl and hug her out do.not.give.her.the.blank.stare. If you do, you are the asshole in this scenario, not her.
Take time to make people connections, it is NOT all about the swag, or how many “famous” bloggers you can meet and cross off your list (even though FULL DISCLOSURE, I did go completely FAN.GIRL. on Ree Drummond. It’s embarrassing but I may or may not have completely body checked her when we were going into VOTY. Sorry Ree!)
Be yourself!!! OMG, the best thing said to me at the entire conference was a blogger who told me that I was completely the same person online as I am offline. I hope that was a compliment. Either way, I am taking it as one. Of course, she may think I am a complete asshole online:)
Bottom line is BlogHer is for connecting; faces and voices with blogs was the connection I wanted to make and I did. I tried to see everyone I promised to hug and if I missed you, I am sorry. I honestly, loved meeting each and every one of you, even the woman who said hello, threw a card at us and ran away. Come back! I don’t bite. I might hug you hard and kiss your cheeks but I do not bite.
Thank all of you who I met for making BlogHer an unbelievably amazing experience. I feel renewed in my blogging. I don’t feel like I am alone in a room anymore because I know there are people out there, connecting with me and to my story and they care. All this started from one hug.
What was your greatest take away from BlogHer13 or any blogging conference you have attended?[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]
2013/07/30
Letter to Parents of Autistic Teen, Max Begley: “You have a Retarded Kid, deal with it!” Not a Hate Crime

WTF is wrong with people? I have seen some pretty crazy shit in my lifetime but nothing compares to the disturbing letter written by an anonymous Newcastle, Ontario neighbor calling herself, “One Pissed Off Mother” urging the parents of a 13-year-old autistic teen, Max Begley, to “…take whatever non-retarded body parts he possesses and donate it to science…” Going so far as to write the words,
Do the right thing and move or euthanize him!!!
If you read the above letter and your jaw did not hit the ground, I’m not sure that we can be friends. When I read this letter for the first time, first I was in shock, then my heart was broken that someone would say something like this about another human being, never mind a special needs child and lastly, I was pissed off and that is where I am this morning.Hey, anonymous asshole, you are not the only pissed off mother today. I’m pissed off too. Pissed off that animals like you are not kept in cages. Let’s be clear, Max Begley has a disability that he was born with. He has no control over it. YOU.CHOSE.TO.BE.AN.ASSHOLE!!!!!!
The even crazier part is that police won’t be able to pursue hate crime charges for the anonymous letter.
“Despite the hateful language used … the content of the letter falls below the threshold for a hate crime,” police said in a statement Tuesday.

Police are asking anyone with information regarding the case should call Crime Stoppers at 1-800-222-8477 (TIPS and they are still moving ahead with a criminal investigation. This cannot be swept under the rug. These actions were too heinous and reprehensible.
If that is not dripping with hatred, I don’t know what is. This letter is the epitome of hatred.The one good thing to come out of this whole awful ordeal is that the community is rallying around Max and supporting his family. Tolerance and kindness are filling the space where hatred once was.
We all have bad days. Maybe this one pissed off cretin was having a bad day. Maybe her “normal” kids were being monsters and she was trying to get everything around for back-to-school, maybe her husband’s a drunk who beats her, maybe her daddy didn’t love her, maybe she can’t find a job, maybe she’s not slept in 9 years and she’s about to lose her house and maybe she took all her frustration with the world and her life and put it into this letter, viciously attacking and wishing death on a child. Maybe she needs mental help? Even taking all of these conditions into consideration, that is NO excuse to call a child names and tell his parents to do the world a favor and euthanize their son.
As a mother, I am appalled that any other mother would not only lack the compassion it takes to write such a disgusting letter but be so callous in her disregard for this child’s life and for the struggles of his parents. Let me be clear, this “one pissed off mother” is a C You Next Thursday in the worst way and I kinda hope her identity is revealed and the neighbors ostracize her ass right out of the neighborhood. This woman should have her children taken away and her uterus removed because she does not deserve to have children, be around children or humans; big or small.

I am still in shock that any “mother” would ever think such things, never mind, write them down and send them to someone.Why would she think that these parents of Max Begley should take their child and move to a trailer in the woods? Just because he was born with a disability, does that make him less deserving of medical attention and love and life? He has done nothing to deserve this hatred from her other than being vocal in his neighborhood.
This is everything that is wrong with this world. So called “normal” people wanting to lock those of us who are different away in a tower, an institution, a trailer in the woods or a deserted island hidden from the world like some kind of monsters. Just because you don’t see us doesn’t mean that we don’t exist. Just because you ignore us doesn’t mean that we don’t feel and your cruelty cuts deep. You, one pissed of mother, you are the monster!
Anyone who can write the below line has their own set of problems beyond a autistic teen being a vocal “nuisance.”
I HATE people like you who believe, just because you have a special needs kid, you are entitled to special treatment!!!
They do not want special treatment. That is the entire point. They want to be treated like any other family. They want to live in a neighborhood and be a family. It is monsters like one pissed off mother who make this impossible by being cruel, unkind and lacking of human compassion and understanding.
What do you think of this One Pissed Off Mother? What would you do if you were Max Begley’s parents?
2013/08/20