We are going to see The Nutcracker!

Last year, she played a lamb. The year before that, a flower princess. This year, she isn't dancing in the Nutcracker. But she is seeing it. Maple Youth Ballet presents The Nutcracker, December 18th through the 23rd. And finally, my youngest, JBean, will get to see it. She has been wanting to see it most of her life.

She did see a Nutcracker, of sorts, last year. The dancing was wonderful, as was the staging. But it was a special performance for schools and included awful narration, referencing how much more exciting it was then the Power Rangers! My daughter was disgusted. Who narrates a ballet, she wanted to know.

This time around, we are seeing the real Nutcracker, at Irvine and Newport Beach's premier conservatory of dance, Maple Conservatory. We cannot wait. I hope this is the start of a holiday tradition.

You can attend, too. There are still seats available! Why not take a break from your holiday preparations to enjoy some family time? Tickets range from $20-$28 dollars, which is reasonable for a full-fledged production. I can't wait, and I know my daughter is filled with joy at the prospect!

T, who always wanted to be able to dance

full disclosure: I was not paid for this post, but I was given tickets to the performance. Opinions stated are always, always my own.

Christmas Comes But Once a Year (thank GOD!)

I am not a fan of the holidays. I know, hard to believe, right? My mother is a huge lover of the Christmas season. She would bake for days, shop, and stay up all night to wrap presents on Christmas Eve. Her packages were works of art. The magical mornings of peeking at the tree while it was still dark to find that Santa had been there and artfully arranged the presents are some of the best memories of my childhood. And I want my children to have that, I do. And I try to do all of the things my mother did, but I just...can't. And so. I pretty much hate Christmas.

Every year I tell myself it will be different. I will start earlier. I will have a better attitude. But by mid-December I am usually stressed out, ready to curl up in a fetal position, and wait for it all to be over. Instead, I pull myself up, give myself a good talking-to, and finish the preparations at the last minute amidst much self-loathing. It isn't fun.

And this year? Is going to be even less fun. My eldest, JBug, goes in for spinal surgery on the 15th of December, which means I have to have everything done TEN days earlier than usual. She will be in the hospital for at least five days, but should be home for Christmas. So I will have little time to scour the shops, maul the mall, or gilt the gift. I have to just get it over with quickly.

So on that note, I am trying to get into the spirit faster than usual, which is why I found this little video of Newfoundland dogs dressed up for Christmas and carrying things in carts. I hope it brings you joy.

T.

When words fail, speak puppy

Sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) autism can really be difficult. JBean is 9 now, and much of the time acts closer to 5. Lately she has had a really hard time with self-regulation. She gets upset and words just fail her. She is very verbal, just like any other kid, but when she is angry, she resorts to growling and grunting. It is hard to take, but I have to continually remind myself that it is the short-circuit of autism that causes this behavior; she is not a brat.

Until recently, there wasn't much I could do when she fell into this behavior. She just had to be allowed to cool off until she could talk. But we found an even better solution. Our own unofficial therapy pup.

Poppy, we love you. And what did we ever do without you?

T.

I am now officially a dog person

Today was Poppy's first experience with meeting other Newfs. JNerd and I loaded her into the car and headed out to the Fall 2010 Draft Test. We made sure to keep a wide berth between Poppy and the entrants of the trial. We didn't want her distracting them. We were just there to watch, and to meet new people. She is not ready for competition at this point. Overall, she did really well. There was a bit of feistiness at first...after all, she had never been at Huntington Central Park before, and it is a bit different from most of the parks she has been to. It has more of a wilderness feel, I think. But for the most part, she settled quickly.

I was able to meet another Newf.net member, Rebekah, which is another reason to be thankful for the Interwebs. Newf.net is a bulletin board I belong to, where I chat with other newfie owners from all over the world. This particular person was from the L.A. area and I was really excited to meet another newfoundland owner. It was nice to put a face to the name, and meet her pup Artie, as well.

Poppy played and sniffed a couple of other Newfoundlands, which was quite funny. Watching her see another newf for the first time: her eyes widened and she whined, and just seemed overjoyed to find dogs like her. Maybe I am anthropomorphizing too much, but it really seemed like she wanted to know them! She was able to play a bit with a couple of the dogs, and of course, next to me, she loves other dogs best.

She also met other people, and some kids. Except for a small bit of jumping at first contact, she was very obedient. We are still working on the initial approach. She has never had a problem with jumping up, but recently she has just started greeting people in this way. After the first small lunge, she settles and sits nicely for me. I just need to stop her from jumping up at all!

After we were there, she settled down, and actually listened. She watched me when bikes and joggers and other dogs came by, which is a huge thing for her. She sat and lie down when I told her to stay. She shook hands and high-fived, and I was just really proud of her.

She is now sacked out, absolutely dog-tired after her little adventure. It is a lot of fun having a Newf, and it was inspiring to see the well-trained beautiful dogs of the club members. I can see now what I have to work towards. She'll get there. Too bad kids aren't as easily trained as dogs!

T, who seems to be a dog person now

It's up to us: what will we do about bullying?

Today's post was written by my 16 year old daughter. Please read it, I think she has something important to say. xoxo T.

Tyler Clementi.

Asher Brown.

Seth Walsh.

Justin Aaberg.

Raymond Chase.

William (Billy) Lucas.

You might not have heard these names. These are all boys who committed suicide in the last few months after being bullied due to their sexual orientation. Who knows what they felt? Alone, ostracized? Like life wasn't worth living. Like they didn't matter? Their acts of desperation could have gone unnoticed. Thing is, we saw. The internet saw. First one, then another, then hundreds, then thousands of people took a stand. In their own way, everyone said that these boys…and so many like them…matter.

Then, the internet spoke. (Well, it didn't really. It's inanimate. Go with me here, I'm making a point.)

It started with an idea.

Social media spread the idea to quite literally thousands of people.

The idea was simple: wear purple (the color of spirit on the LGBTQ flag) on October 20, 2010 in memory of those boys, and for all the other kids out there who may feel the same way.

So today, I wore purple. To my surprise, there were other kids in my (conservative Christian) class who wore purple. Not to mention the thousands of people all around the world. Teachers, parents, talk show hosts. We took a stand against bullying, against the idea that what happened to these boys was okay.

Bullying is common now. Before, insults were thrown in front of a class, maybe twenty people. Now, cyber bullying is the norm. Hateful anonymous comments, bringing down the person in front of everyone on the internet...whole schools. But kids will be kids, right? They need to suck it up. Learn to ignore it. A common answer to the problem, and not a solution.

But you know what?

I think it's going to be my generation that changes it. We know social media. Some of us communicate mostly through email, facebook and texting. We get how to make a difference. And we do. My generation will be the one that steps up and says it isn't okay.

It isn't okay to make fun of someone. To discriminate based on age, or race, or sexual orientation or disability or intelligence or anything else.

It isn't okay to have an Us vs. Them mentality.

It isn't okay to talk about how loving God is and then hate anyone who is different.

It isn't okay.

And when that happens, when we step up…it will change.

In 1983, D.A.R.E (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) was founded. It has changed lives. Imagine what it could be like if there was a similar approach to bullying. In one generation, D.A.R.E made drugs uncool. Nearly every school age kid knows what the red ribbon means. If something similar could be accomplished for bullying...imagine what could happen.

Hate is learned and we need to lead by example. The things we learn in kindergarten can affect the rest of our lives. If we start from the bottom and work up, we can change hearts. If we could show from the beginning that bullying isn't okay...just imagine it.

If we change the mindset behind bullying, imagine how drastically different our world might be.

It's going to start with us.

Now, don't just imagine it. Let's make it a reality.

Nobody here but us mad scientists

Not a lot going on around here. Mostly just raising the next generation of world-changers. Don't believe me?


the fine print says .. "Maybe... but do you really want to find out?" and "Now go away so I can finish and plot to take over the world in peace."


at least she uses goggles...safety first!


and here is what most pictures look like these days... teenage incognito. When she is accepting the Nobel Prize I will remember this. Or maybe when she is outted for being some superhero's nemesis.... either way. T. who figures homeschooling is working

My dog is a slut

Surprise: Poppy, my sweet almost-9 month old puppy, went into heat last week. After being told constantly that we were looking at a late heat because giant breed dogs come into season later, usually between 12-18 months. And ten days shy of 9 months, we were faced with a 100 lb. dog who had all the signs of being a flamboyant slut. When a dog goes into season, they menstruate. They mostly keep themselves clean, but there is a stray drip here and there. To combat that, some people use diapers. Only I cannot find diapers to fit Poppy! They just don't carry them anywhere that are big enough. The manufacturer makes an XXL, but as far as I can tell NO ONE anywhere carries them. (I also would NOT suggest searching for "XL diapers on line. Just trust me. Ok? Really. Just. Don't.) So, as a stop-gap measure, we put her in mens' underwear, just to put her in something. All I can say is thank god we have wood floors! The first few days, she had to go out a lot more, and peed all over the lawn. I cannot walk her, because she is sending "come hither" scents to the male dogs and we don't want any following her home. Leaving little "bread crumbs" for them to follow, we don't want any of the boys serenading our Juilet outside the bedroom window at four in the morning.


When I do take her out, She sashays around and waves her tail to let the boys know she is available. So far, there haven't been any dogs to answer her call, which is good. Her tail shake brings all the boys to the yard... so we are vigilant. In addition to not being able to walk the block, she also cannot go to the dog park. She is feeling a bit cooped up, as am I. We head to the dog park at least three times a week. Once this passes, I will be sure to make that spay appointment. Because trust me when I tell you that dealing with a large dog in heat, with the pacing, the leaking, the constant need to pee and the skittishness is NOT FUN. Still, it is better to spay a giant breed dog after her first heat, due to lower risk of bone cancer. So I will cheerfully deal with all of the annoyances if the result is a healthier pup who will be with us longer.


Makes it all worth it. As long as I can have a drink after the kids go to bed, that is. Tina, who figures life is a joke

September is over, why didn't anyone wake me up?

I pretty much hibernated for the last month after I came home from New York. With the migraines, school starting and the planning associated with that little venture, we had some other unexpected events to deal with as well. Which, of course, I will blog as I get back into the swing of things. And I? Just bugged out. I needed to take a break, to recuperate from life, and come back to blogging renewed. So, if you will still have me, I am back. So buy me a drink, pass me the mike, cause Radio Tee is back on the air. Ok, not really. I am just blogging again. But you can still buy me a drink. I missed you. You look great in that. Have you lost weight? What? Do I want to go somewhere? Let's take it slow, have some conversation, and then see where that leads. Tina

Help my life has been stolen and replaced with an Edith Wharton novel

I think I've lost my mojo. No, really. I am not joking; it's not funny. I have never been one to complain, and I know how to avoid/block/ignore pain. The longest I have ever been down with anything was 3 days, and that was the Kill-An-Elephant-and-Leave-It-There-To-Rot flu. It got JNerd, too. We were both very, very sick. I think that was February, before last. So...2009? But lately? I am just...sick.

I wrote about it before...how after I came home from blogher, I was dealing with migraines, on a daily basis. They had me down, for a month. No joke. They started 8/5, and I saw the doctor on 9/2. All the time I was waiting? Languishing in a darkened room like some demented character out of a gothic novel. Talk about the drama! I spent so many days flat on my back I could have paid for my mortgage had I been doing anything more remotely interesting. Instead?Ice pack at the base of my skull, cold, weighted eye mask over my face. I did a lot of listening to tv...it was all I could do.

And now, thanks to a god-send of a doctor, who saw me in the grips of a terrible migraine attack and immediately fixed it with a shot of Imitrex and then a prescription, my head is better, or at least on its way to becoming better. But. There were...complications. I won't go into my bathroom habits, cause that shit lives forever on the internet, but let's just say they're non-


existent. at this point. And not from ...lack of trying. And then, there are complications to that.

And while all that sucks, what's worse is that my cycle is all screwed up. I have had not ONE, not TWO, but THREE periods in the last TWO months. Yep, that's right. Three. The only good news is that proves I am not pregnant. But I am sick of my period, sick of feeling sick and ready to get off my freaking bed. And I just..can't. I am achy, tired, bleeding. Despite this all, I am trying to find the funny, you know, fkeep up my spirits.

I am failing miserably. I have spent the last month begging off of most things I am supposed to be doing. I have missed karate, eye appointments and countless other things I am supposed to attend. I missed a good friend's birthday party, blog events, and just, everything. My house is a disaster, my dog is a monster (She needs my attention and training, no one can handle her the way I do) and my kids are being raised by wolves. ENOUGH. I have an MRI sometime in the next week or so. To make sure I am not dying of a brain tumor (I'm not.) I called the doctor's office and was told that all of my labs: thyroid, hormones, were normal.. Well, that's just awesome, possum!

Then tell me why I don't feel normal?? I am OVER this. I have never been down this long, and I am having a hard time seeing around it to the light at the end of the tunnel. Which is probably a bus, anyway.

ANd that is why I have lost my mojo.

posted from my iPad

The fear that I am facing

Let's just get this over with. I have been agonizing over it, panicking and just generally freaking the hell out to even admit this, but here I go. She can't read. There, I said it. Call Social Services now. She is 9 years old, on the autism spectrum, home schooled and she can't read.

Ok, she can read a little bit. Like C-V-C words. Three letters, four. Not difficult combinations. So what the heck do I do all day, right? Since my kid can't read? And I am responsible? And I sit on the Internet all day? Whoah. Let's back the truck up, Jack. I have been homeschooling my children for 6 years now, and I am good at it. My eldest daughter is amazing, and gifted. My son has great spatial relations and comes up with some of the most interesting questions. And then? There is my youngest daughter.

If you have been reading very long, you know she is a complex enigma. She is smart. There is no getting around that. When she sits to do school work, I have to pry her away from it. She works really hard. She also has amazing imaginary skills. I would say she often lives in her imaginary world. Most of the time it works. We don't forbid her from doing what she likes, like playing with Playmobil and small figures.

But, she can't read. I used to think it was me...I was doing something wrong. I teach her the same way I taught my son. And teaching him was a challenge, because not only is he on the autism spectrum, he is also dyslexic. I had to learn a completely different way to teach. But it has paid off, for the most part. I was doing computer programs with my youngest, sitting together to read, doing a multi-sensory tile-based phonics program, and she still was not progressing. And that's when she told me.

"Mama, when I read, the words and letters move all over the page." Aha! I had long suspected dyslexia, now I had some idea that was part of the problem. I took her to her speech teacher (What? you didn't know she took speech?) and told her the problem. I told her I was thinking of eye therapy, and that we were headed in for an evaluation. She agreed that was a good idea.

The eye evaluation simply confirmed what I already knew. Her eyes have a difficult time tracking together, and her depth perception is off. Luckily, this can be corrected. It isn't that she cannot read because she can't...she can't read because her eyes aren't working together.

She sees her eye therapist every week. She sees her speech teacher every week. And with luck, and a A LOT of hard work (we have 20 minutes of eye exercises every day) her eyes will improve. When that happens, she will be able to read. I hope. Of course, there is a nagging fear that she will never know what it is like to pick up a book with ease and while away the afternoon. That maybe, though we are all good readers in this house, she will continually struggle and never really take off. That fear makes me want to curl into a fetal position and never move. But you know that's just not the way I roll. I will make this latest hurdle my bitch, the way I always do. And you'd best believe that I (along with her speech/reading teacher) will make sure she catches up. You will be one of the first to know when that happens.

posted from my iPad

I have a blogcrush on you

I took time out from my migraine regularly scheduled to attend the OC Blogger Ball. This year, it is at the Embassy Suites near Disneyland, and they have pulled out all the stops. The food: prime rib, cold vegetables and sauce... Canapes and mousse. Such a great time hanging out with my friends from OC Blog Crush. Nice to know there is strength in numbers. Thanks to everyone..and thanks to my lack of headache! posted from my iPad

The pitfalls of social media: an apology, of sorts

I found the dark side of being plugged in, and really it's my own fault. Let me explain. I spend a lot of time online, with people I consider my friends. Many I know in real life (in fact, I don't even differentiate anymore...if you are my friend, you are my friend...period).

To that end, I spent five days in New York City around some of the smartest, sexiest and most cuttingly-funny women around. (and a couple of men, too). Is it any wonder that I let my guard down a bit and let out some inner snark? I have finally accepted something. I? Am funny. People will tell me so, and I never owned it. Now I do. I can be quick-witted and I am all about the entertainment. I see twitter as both a place to have relationships and a place to make people laugh. Last night, those clashed, much to my chagrin.

Like I said, I spent a week at Blogher, with women who were quick on their feet, able to define their humor in 140 characters and the snarky comeback was expected. and valued. Normally, I detox from that and become the person who can enter polite society again, but since I have had a horrendous headache off and on all week long, I haven't spent much time circulating in polite society. And I gaffed.

Last night, a friend threw a party. I had other events I was supposed to attend, but begged off so I could rest up and make it to the party. She is a single mom and doesn't get a chance to let loose that often. I wanted to at least honor her by making an appearance. We did so. The get-together was low-key, with good friends and some soft music. I guess I had NYC on the brain, and wanted the music and the good time I had there. Luau music wasn't doing it for me. So I tweeted that the music wasn't good. I was chatting with friends and wasn't really thinking about it. The obligatory replies came in, about the fat guy with the ukulele and the Wizard of Oz song. Cue laughter. Fun.

If the party had been thrown by one of thousands of my friends on twitter, they would have gotten it. We snark on twitter, someone else replies with a smart ass remark, we all laugh, The End. Well, I forgot that my friend isn't a blogger, and isn't a social networking addict like the rest of us. So the attempt at humor was foreign to her...and I hurt her feelings. Shit.

She called me out on my bad manners, and I tried to explain, but I am not sure she


understood. I went back and deleted anything that could have been misconstrued. (A comment about watching fireworks and I hash tagged it "is the party over") But last I heard, she is still pissed. The really frustrating thing is that in the past she has said some really awful and judgmental things to me and I have completely just dismissed them. I never even said anything to her about it, because, well, that's what's you do. I don't mention it for any other reason but that I think friendship goes both ways... you forgive. And you forget.

So. Lesson learned. Which is? Don't tweet anything that might hurt someone else? Or that all of your friends need to be bloggers. I am not sure which is right, but I am certain it is one of those.

I am too old for drama, people. Carry on with your bad selves. And I'll tweet you later.

posted from my iPad

BlogHer in pictures

If a picture is worth a thousand words...


posted


from my iPad

Help, My Son Won't tell the TRUTH! (and yes, I CAN handle it)

Tuesdays are flashback days around here...which is really just an excuse for recycling a post you might not have seen. This week's post is about my son and the stage he went through with lying. Thankfully, it was short-lived, but at the time? I thought I would lose my mind.

Lately my son has been experimenting with creative truth-telling. Yes, it's a nice way to say he is lying his butt off. And it isn't like the things are that important. These exchanges are taking place with increasing frequency:

Me: Did you clean the cat box?

JBear: Yes, I cleaned the cat box, both the office and the bathroom. [earnest look on his face, not meeting my eyes, but then, with autism, he rarely meets my eyes]

[I check the box, it has not been cleaned]. Son, why did you tell me that you cleaned the litterbox when clearly you had not?

JBear: But I did. I cleaned it!

Me: JBear, I need the truth.

JBear: [scowling defiantly] I didn't clean it. I don't want to.

And then he goes and does whatever he was told to do in the first place. This can be anything from putting his clothes away, brushing his teeth, reading a book vs. playing Nintendo...

Now I know as a mother of a child with autism, I could be pleased by this latest development. Some idiots experts will tell you that a child with autism cannot lie. I present, exhibit #1: my son. And besides, being lied to is damned annoying. I want it to stop.

So I had a Come To Jesus talk with him today, and laid out some ground rules for him.

* You must try not to lie. A man/woman/person is only as good as his word, his honor is all he has. If he cannot be trusted, he will not have friends. (yes, some people hang out with other people who lie to them, but how do you ever know if they are telling you the truth?)

* Honor, meaning whether someone sees you as a person who is good and has integrity (can be trustworthy) will follow you the rest of your life.

* Character is who you are when no one is looking...do you take that cookie? Do you return that wallet?

* Your actions become your habits. If you continue to lie, it will become second-nature and you may not be able to stop.

There are such things as "social lies," and these can be complicated. But some situations are:

* If someone asks you if you like their haircut, I don't care if you think they look worse than a dog with it's butt shaved walking backwards. You do not get to say that to the person. It hurts feelings.

* You are not allowed to call your mother,"Old Lady," even if you do think 42 is old. There is a certain amount of respect that someone gets just for being older than you. Just because you think it doesn't mean you need to say it out loud. Engage your mouth filter.

* There are times you do not have to tell the whole truth to everyone, always. A bit is sufficient. People who call on the phone do not need to know your mother is in the bathroom, pooping.

* Sometimes it is kinder not to share the entire truth. You do not have the right to rub your intellect into others' faces, or make them feel small. Even if you really do know more about medieval weaponry than they do. /

* If you think someone is an idiot, keep it to yourself. Fighting words can get you into a fight. Yes, there are many idiots out there, but believe it or not, few actually know they are idiots. That's why they are idiots. Do not believe you are doing anyone a favor by removing the blinders from their eyes. They won't believe you anyway.

* There are times it is easier to go along with what someone says, rather than argue them into the ground. Exceptions to this are when your values are compromised, laws are broken or you feel uncomfortable in any way. (refer back to when people are idiots)

We have a long way to go in the area of truth-telling, but I believe we have a start now. Now comes the repetition. Did I forget any social lies that he needs to know?

What's the craziest white lie you know of...either your own, or someone else's?

So I think I am dying

Why is it I just can't party like it's 1999? I mean, when I do, I get SICK. It's so unfair. Last year, after BlogHer? Sick. Fly to New Zealand, come home? Sick. And now? NYC... and came home.. sick. The difference is, I am pretty sure this was my daughter's doing. She came home from Kenya and she was sick.

I just can't party and bullshit the way I used to. My body doesn't bounce back the way it did back when I was...well, when I was 21. I am exhausted. And of course, the kids don't help. Why is it when momma is under the weather, the kids act out and don't sleep? As I write this, my son is still awake. It is going on midnight. I simply don't have the energy to fight with him. He is 11 and thinks he doesn't have to listen over little things like bedtime. And I guess, to me, that is kind of true. I am a night owl, JNerd is a night owl, doesn't it make sense that we would give birth to other nocturnal-living humans?

So my cap off to an exciting weekend was hot tea with lemon and honey and True Blood. Sadly. Next comes canasta? Retirement home in South Florida? Party and bullshit, people. I am not ready to quit, yet.

posted from my iPad

yes, I am a....

posted from my iPad

I would write about it, but I can't remember it! (What happened at BlogHer?)

It is impossible to tell you everything that happened at BlogHer and not have you

1. be confused
2. laugh a lot
3. lose complete respect for me

Besides I have no idea how to explain it all, much of it was a blur of jam-packed days, late nights, mornings that came way too early (as in, a couple of hours) and then get up to start all over again. Just know that BlogHer is about staying out late, and when you are in the City That Never Sleeps? Well...you never sleep. (See what I did there?)

When you are hanging with the greatest people on earth (I am not biased) that you only see maybe twice a year (if lucky), who wants to waste time sleeping? I mean, really. So I did very little of that which is really nothing new for me anyway. You all know I am half-vampire.

So, how do I explain BlogHer?

• It's headed to your room completely exhausted, then getting a phone call and finding the energy to go out for just one drink. Until 5 a.m.
• It's fighting tears as you listen to some of the strongest women who have dealt with adversity, and then laughing through them as @looneytunes says that "People aren't assholes." and then @anissamayhew responds, "Yes, they are." (guess you had to be there)
  
  
  
  
• It's always having somewhere to be: lunch, seat saved during session, an after party somewhere else, so grab the caffeine and keep going, friends are waiting and they aren't getting any younger!
• It's sponsor parties, and pedi-cabs and taxi cabs...halfway across the city for a pink-iced cupcake and the chance to say you were at that party.
• It's food on the run, and tiny appetizers for dinner, $20 deli sandwiches and more booze than you (yes, even you!) can drink.
• It's bloggers in various states of undress, and pictures being hidden from the public stream.(it wasn't me, I swear)
• It's unplanned meetings and late-night breakfasts of omelets and bagels and lox
• It's Sparklecorny, as you dance your ass off on the last night, knowing that in a few hours it will all be over. Bittersweet to say the least
• It's eating McDonald's cheeseburgHers that in other circumstances you wouldn't touch. And? They taste good.




• It's pictures and more pictures and overheard: If we are going to all be in bed together, I should at least know who you are."
• it's having dinner and seeing a show, a carriage ride around Times Square and a couple of cougar catchers who cop a feel while taking a group picture. (again, not me)




• It's running into New Yorkers who want to take us to where the party is, and they know all the best
• it's discovering street meat..which is not nearly as dirty as it sounds

So that's what Blogher is. But the thing that trumps it all? Spending time with your friends. People who are near and dear, and that you love. THAT is what makes Blogher, I think. Yes, there are other conferences, and parties and get-togethers. But the people are what make BlogHer. I miss them all, already.

posted from my iPad